Good
Groove Hunting
By Brendan Doherty
When Charlie Hunter
searches for new sounds, it's not terribly difficult.
Hunter uses a guitar with two extra strings--eight
strings total. Unlike Stanley Jordan's ultra
weird, unhip musical onanism, a two handed playing
style that removed the need for other band members,
Hunter takes on just two: bass and guitar. More
than some ultra-talented technician trying to
downsize the number of guys he would have to
pay on a given night, Hunter is a legitimate
musical force with the right kind of fire to
revive his chosen field of jazz.
"I try to fill up the sounds," Hunter says from
his new home in Brooklyn. "I get a lot of flack
about it--why don't you play guitar or bass.
I'm like, you know how many people play those?
It's just like having a bass and a guitar, and
as far as it being a gimmick, everything is a
gimmick and being a human is a gimmick."
The jazzy artist with a soft spot for uptempo
funk beat and go-go is one of the young lions
of jazz, a new breed of jazz guys (under 35,
and often the sons of premier hard bop players
from the late '60s). Hunter attended the same
Berkeley high school whose music program produced
saxophonist Joshua Redman and pianist Benny Green,
but Hunter wasn't a part of the program.
"I didn't go to class much, and I was from a
low-income family and was tracked into the lowest
level of academic courses," Hunter says. Shortly
after that, someone tried to turn him on to Weather
Report, Wes Montgomery and finally Charlie Parker,
Charlie Christian and John Coltrane. "I was into
everything at that point--blues, rockabilly,
soul, but boom! After that, I was instantly turned
on. Their total sound and the reality of their
playing just cut through everything. I suddenly
wanted to play like that."
Hunter took lessons from the then-infamous Bay
Area teacher, Joe Satriani, like a lot of other
kids. With regular gigs in the Bay Area, Hunter
sharpened his acumen. He did a short stint playing
for the Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy. By the
middle '90s, he had formed his Berkeley-based
trio and was recording with them. They filled
several Blue Note releases, Bing, Bing, Bing!
and Ready ... Set ... Shango with Hunter's 8-string,
sax and drums. They're different, all right.
They even covered a Kurt Cobain song on their
first Blue Note record.
"I think our music is an alternative to the
suit-and-tie club that says you have to be well-to-do
and super-intellectual to understand jazz music," Hunter
says. "We don't have that attitude. We play at
places where people aren't interested in pigeonholing
instrumental music. I wanted to jump in a van
and cover the U.S. I don't think a lot of jazz
guys are willing to do that. You have to be willing
to lose a lot of money."
For his latest tour, he's bringing Willard Dyson
on drums and Monty Croft on vibes. His most recent
record for Blue Note, The Return of the Candyman,
reads with shorter songs, hip-hop structure and
ebullient, melodic guitar work. He's left the
Trio behind and opened up a whole world of musical
possibilities.
"With each record, I set out a concept and hope
to execute it as (best) I can," Hunter says. "I'm
pretty happy with this. When you have the horns
up front, you have the big singing sound and
the ability to connect, but you lose some of
the ability to have some subtle things going
on. Every line-up has its strengths and weaknesses.
The trio had been playing together for a long
time. We made a lot of music, but there always
comes a time to move on."
In doing
so, he brought the cheesy Steve Miller tune "Fly Like an Eagle" a deeper partner--John
Coltrane's "Giant Steps." It's a prime example
of how Hunter is seeking out, bagging and field-dressing
musical riffs, and doing things in an entirely
new way. Because of this quality, his wild and
diverse musical past, and his potential to have
rock kids crossing over into the jazz audience,
Hunter has been called by some hyperbolic pundits
as the future of jazz.
"You wanna know who the future of jazz is?" Hunter
asks. "Everyone is. I am no more than everyone
else. I'm just traveling down that same road
that other musicians are, trying to evolve and
get better at what I do. I don't think most of
what I do is revolutionary at all."