Trying
to classify guitarist James Blood Ulmer just doesn’t work. The best term I’ve
seen to describe his music had to be invented: avant-gutbucket.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Ulmer came into prominence in the
avant-garde jazz scene of the 1970s when he was closely associated with
saxophonist-composer Ornette Coleman. But Ulmer’s brand of free jazz had
generous portions of blues, funk, and rock mixed in. Since then he has built a
cult following through a range of albums, all of which have an experimental
edge.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Ulmer has kept a foot in the
avant-garde as a mainstay in the Music Revelation Ensemble, creating albums and
performing with players like saxophonist David Murray. But his two most recent
CDs, Memphis Blood: The Sun Sessions and No Escape From the Blues: The Electric Lady
Sessions, are among the most accessible of his career. Both are
masterpieces of raw, unbridled blues, way over the top from the word go. Tunes
like Willie Dixon’s “Spoonful” and “Back Door Man” are taken right back to
where they came from.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The CDs were both recorded at
legendary studios: Sun in Memphis and Electric Lady in New York. And both were
produced by Vernon Reid, a guitarist known for his work with Living Colour.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “It was his idea,” Ulmer says. “He
thought it would be good for me to try doing cover songs. I never did cover
songs before. I always did my music, which I thought was blues in the beginning
anyway, so I kind of just dived right in.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The music on these albums may have
been recorded in the 21st century, but Ulmer’s gut-wrenching vocals and fiery
guitar makes it sound like something Alan Lomax might have stumbled upon decades
ago in a long-lost southern juke joint.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “Blues has drifted away from what
the original concept was,” Ulmer says. “That’s my take on it.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Ulmer and Reid are doing their part
to bring it back to its roots. All of the arrangements and backing musicians on
his recent albums contribute to the authenticity. There is even a tap-dance
break by Maya Smullyan Jenkins on No
Escape‘s “Bright Lights, Big City.” And his raucous renditions of tunes
like “Little Red Rooster” on Memphis
Blood should have everyone throwing away their sanitized blues albums.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “I used to sing ‘Little Red Rooster’
in a band as a teenager,” Ulmer says. “It’s a song that the real blues guitar
players, they used to make the guitar sound like what they were singing about.
If they were singing about a hound dog, they’d try to make it sound like a
hound dog. If they were singing about a chicken, the guitar starts acting like
a chicken. It’s like they were playing a talking guitar, and the guitar would
describe what they were singing about. So it’s changed in that respect.
Anything close to the original sound would be much better for me.”
Ulmer’s own
roots reside more in the realm of gospel. As a boy he was in a gospel group with his
father; later he was in the Southern Sons. And he doesn’t believe that chapter
of his musical life is closed.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “I never made a gospel album; I
would like to,” he says. “In fact, I would like to find the old Southern Sons
and make a gospel record. I’ve been trying to do that but I haven’t been
successful yet. I’m still hoping I can get them together.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The Blood Brothers, another group
Ulmer was involved with before he arrived on the national scene, was an organ
trio along the lines of Jimmy Smith’s or Jack McDuff’s. His guitar playing in
that 1960s group was more in the traditional rhythm style of Freddy Green.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “It was the very first time guitar
players really got a chance to play,” he says. “Before that, guitar players
were playing background music.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Ulmer’s career changed direction in
1972, when Coleman’s drummer, Billy Higgins, introduced him to the avant-garde
saxophonist.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “We got together and started
playing,” Ulmer says. “He was trying to incorporate the guitar into his music
at that point.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Coleman and Ulmer turned out to be
kindred spirits. Ulmer fit right into some of the experimental music Coleman
was working on, including his concept of harmolodics, which emphasized the
creation of harmonies through simultaneous melodies played on different
instruments.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “I was a natural harmolodic player,”
says Ulmer, who had his own unconventional ideas, including tuning all of the
strings of his guitar to one note. “It was based on a natural guitar. The
guitar was basically a one-string instrument. When you tune all the strings to
one note it’s like playing a one-string instrument. That’s my concept of
playing the guitar in its original form.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Ulmer’s latest album was done in the
studio made famous by Jimi Hendrix, who, in his own way, was as experimental as
Coleman.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “I didn’t think about him when he
was alive,” Ulmer says. “I was more drawn to saxophone because when I was
coming up guitar didn’t have an outlet. They would play him on acid-rock
stations at four or five in the morning. I didn’t focus on guitar, I focused on
the horns because they were the most vibrant players in music. The only guitar
player who was well known up until I was almost 30 years old was Wes
Montgomery. Nobody talked about Jimi Hendrix at that point. What he did that
helped me out was he made it possible to take a guitar, bass, and drums and go
out and make some money. He brought the guitar to another state, as far as
taking it out of the background.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย If he didn’t listen to much Hendrix,
what was he listening to?
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “I don’t listen to music, man. I
play music,” Ulmer says. “You can’t listen to music, not if you’re going to try
to create music. You hear music all the time. But I’ve been listening to my own
music for so long and trying to develop it more and more and the only way you
can develop it is you’ve got to listen to it. I’ve played with some really
great musicians, and listening to my own music and listening to the players on
it has fascinated me.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Ulmer is so insulated from the music
of others that he is totally unaware of the influence his music had on groups
like Tortoise and Ui in the mid-’90s.
Ulmer’s latest
incarnation as a blues singer is likely to win him even more of a following. Singing was
nothing new for him, but it’s suddenly front and center on his last two albums.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “I sing half the time and I don’t
sing half the time,” he says. “Before I made the blues records, I’d put a song
or two on my records but they were mostly instrumentals. I feel like I was
getting much better-known for playing the guitar.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Reid has plans to record Ulmer’s
next album at another legendary studio, Abby Road. There’s no shortage of irony
in that, considering that the Beatles were first drawn to rock ‘n’ roll through
American blues and r&b. Could Ulmer see himself doing any Beatles songs?
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “I hope not,” Ulmer laughs. “I don’t
know what their songs are. The only thing about me doing a song is what the
song is about. I’m really interested to know what the song is about, and that
way I can feel whether I can deliver it or not.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย I couldn’t let Ulmer go without
asking him how he earned his name.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “I never would tell nobody my name,”
says Ulmer, who will perform solo at the Rochester International Jazz Festival.
“They’d say, ‘Hey, Blood! What’s up, Blood?’ It probably came from Youngblood.
You get older, they just call you Blood.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย I tell him the name conjures the
raw, cut-to-the-bone quality of his music.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “That ain’t the name,” Ulmer says,
“that’s me!”
James Blood
Ulmer plays Milestones, 170 East Avenue, on Wednesday, June 9, at 6:30 and 10 p.m.,
as part of the Rochester International Jazz Festival. Free with Club Pass. $15
tickets available at the venue, space permitting. www.rochesterjazz.com
This article appears in Jun 2-8, 2004.
