By Jason West
Wayne HorvitzÃÂs diminutive Seattle studio is packed with electronics. A rack of keyboards lines the outside wall of a shower-sized isolation booth. A stack of tape decks and recording equipment rises above eye level adjacent to a small mixing board spouting cords and cables. Knobs and dials are everywhere, and I soon discover, chairs are few. Yet, in the middle of all this electronica rests a baby grand piano like a black elephant, its 88 ivory tusks, strings and hammers almost an anachronism.
This studio snapshot belies the critical rap on Horvitz: His music doesnÃÂt belong to any one easily identifiable, easily marketable category. His current bands, Zony Mash and the 4+1 ensemble are practically opposites. While the electrified Zony Mash plays groove-heavy material well-fitted to bars and dance halls, the 4+1 ensemble presents acoustic and electric instruments in a concert setting.
Which brings one to American Bandstand (Songlines, 2000), HorvitzÃÂs latest release under his own name and first true acoustic piano record in over a decade. Combining the personnel of Zony Mash and the acoustic sound of 4+1, Horvitz offers 11 ÃÂlittle piano piecesÃÂ full of emotional range ÃÂ delightful, moody, essentially honest.
Despite the problem Horvitz presents critics and marketers who struggle in vain to pigeonhole his work, Wayne continues to make music he likes. In speaking with him, one detects a note of urgency and defiance in his voice, but also a sense of humor and satisfaction. Perhaps the latter is the artistÃÂs triumph at spending long hours adrift in a musical ocean, and loving every minute.
Jason West: Talk about your new CD, American Bandstand.
Wayne Horvitz: American Bandstand is basically Zony Mash unplugged. Keith [Lowe] plays acoustic bass and I play piano. ItÃÂs really not that related to Zony Mash, except itÃÂs the same four people. What happened was, I wanted to try this idea, this Zony Mash thing, an acoustic version of the band. When Fred Chalenor, [the original bass player in Zony Mash] left the band and I got Keith Lowe, well Keith plays string bass as well as electric, and I just decided, now that I had a string bass player, to try this other project. So the Baltic Room [a Seattle nightclub] was where we tried it out; and I was really happy with it. We must have played there at least 8 or 10 times.
JW: And you decided to make a recording out of it.
WH: Yeah, but I wanted it to be really separate [from the electric music]. I mean on gigs we mixed it up, but basically I sort of had promised Tony Reif, whoÃÂs the guy who runs Songlines, an acoustic piano record for a couple of years and I never quite found something I was happy with. And then this is great. IÃÂm actually really pretty thrilled about this record.
JW: What is it that gets you?
WH: IÃÂm just real happy with how everyone played, you know. And, for all the years that IÃÂve been playing piano, IÃÂve actually put out, I donÃÂt know, I must have put out now 12, 14 CDs under my own name; and I havenÃÂt put out a single record since the early ÃÂ80s of my music where I played piano. I mean IÃÂll play some piano on a record, or maybe piano on one or two pieces but I havenÃÂt made a piano record. And then like the Sonny Clark record (ÃÂVoodoo: The Music of Sonny ClarkÃÂ Black Saint, 1985) which I did with [John] Zorn years ago which is, you know, sort of a bebop thing, that was the last time I was on a record where I just played piano. So itÃÂs kind of crazy.
JW: And Reif was egging you to do another piano record?
WH: Yeah. We had even done a bit of recording with different players, and it, well it didnÃÂt come together for me. And I think, having not made a piano record in so long, I was sort of developing a small neurosis about it, you know. (laughs) So, you know, it actually went really easily and I was really happy with it.
JW: You mentioned the first tune [on American Bandstand] which you wrote for a theatre production of Death of a Salesman. When you wrote the other pieces, were they for other projects or where they for this project?
WH: Some of them ÃÂ it really depends. You know, I write piano music all the time. I mean I must write a piece for the piano, that just, I donÃÂt know what IÃÂm going to do with it. I probably write two or three a month, you know, sometimes more. TheyÃÂre just piano pieces, 8 bars, 14 bars, 20 bars, and like I brought a couple in yesterday and today for the 4 + 1 ensemble, but it wasnÃÂt like a tune where I go, ÃÂYeah, sax here and bass here,ÃÂ you know, theyÃÂre just piano pieces. So I had a lot of those lying around. Some of those wouldnÃÂt make sense with this group; some of them make sense for something more like the 4 + 1 ensemble because theyÃÂre more open pieces. ÃÂBenÃÂs MusicÃÂ came from the music for Death of a Salesman. Two of these tunes were things I had done for little film scores. One of them we do with both bands, with regular Zony Mash and also the acoustic Zony Mash. Some of them are four or five years old. But unlike Zony Mash, where I write tunes specifically for that band ÃÂ itÃÂs rare that I write a tune and go, ÃÂOh this would be good for Zony Mash,ÃÂ you know, I usually have something in mind because itÃÂs such a specific thing: organ, the electric guitar. Whereas lots of times IÃÂll write a piece for the piano and I donÃÂt decide for six months or a year who or what IÃÂm going to use it for. To be honest, IÃÂve got so many of these lying around, my next piano project may just be a record of little piano pieces. I donÃÂt even know if IÃÂll improvise, I mean it might be 25 piano pieces that IÃÂve written. IÃÂve got to get rid of them somehow. (laughs)
JW: Talk about the title, American Bandstand.
WH: ItÃÂs just the title of one of the songs; but I canÃÂt explain it any further than that. I mean IÃÂve written over, I donÃÂt know, IÃÂve probably written over 1000 pieces of music at this point, so after a while, you hear something you like and you grab it, you know (laughs). Just, phrases come into my mind, you know.
JW: How about the graphics? YouÃÂve had old pictures on your CD covers in the past, and here, too.
WH: Except these are new pictures of the band. They just look old. Actually, the back of this is a rip off or an homage to the Grateful Dead record, WorkingmanÃÂs Dead (Warner Bros, 1970). Do you know that record?
JW: WorkingmanÃÂs Dead?
WH: YouÃÂre obviously not a Grateful Dead fan.
JW: No IÃÂm not.
WH: Well I am, and one of there first records, well actually it was about there fourth record, it had pictures almost exactly like this. The idea for the front cover came from that record, too, but it got pretty transformed because, you know, you get into it and we started to go a different direction with it. But yeah, youÃÂre right, I do love old pictures and this sort of split the difference somehow.
JW: Wayne, youÃÂre so diverse in all the things that you do, the different styles of music you like. Is there anything that you really love above everything else?
WH: Well, I donÃÂt ÃÂ you know, IÃÂve had this problem my entire career, which is people saying youÃÂre so diverse and eclectic. And to me, IÃÂve been pretty much writing the same song my entire life; I mean, I donÃÂt look at it that way. I have a pretty wide range of approaches but I think that if you hear one of my pieces, just harmonically and melodically ÃÂ not like what are the instruments or whatÃÂs the setting ÃÂ but I think my writing ÃÂ I always feel like IÃÂm extremely limited.
JW: Really?
WH: I consider having the same idea for a song, forever. (laughs) I write lots of things in three. All my things seem to be too slow, you know; theyÃÂre all the same sort of mood. (laughs) When you say is there anything I like above all, do you mean a type of music?
JW: Just listening to your past work with Pigpen and Zony Mash -- youÃÂve got James Brown high energy stuff; with the electronics youÃÂve got chainsaw, synthesized sounds; youÃÂre inside and outside with different tempos and rhythms.
WH: I think, you know, I donÃÂt know. I been accused in a review recently of being sort of clever, and it really depressed me, because the one thing I like above all in music is soulfulness, you know, expressiveness, honesty. I never liked irony in music; and sometimes people think I do and IÃÂm just puzzled by it. It doesnÃÂt make any sense to me, you know. I think sometimes people listen to music I make and think IÃÂm making comment on something. Unlike John Zorn who I worked with for years and who is very interested in sort of problem solving in music ÃÂ you know, each piece he does kind of takes on another musical problem ÃÂ IÃÂve never ever been inspired to do that. IÃÂve always just wanted to make music that I would like to hear, that has emotional resonance for me. In that way IÃÂm very old fashioned, you know. IÃÂm not post-modern at all. I have no interest in unique combinations. I have no interest in juxtapositions. I have no interest in reinventing the past. You know, itÃÂs all just, when I listen to records that reach me: I hope I can do the same thing. If someone comes to me and says, ÃÂThat music is really beautiful.ÃÂ ThatÃÂs all that I want to hear. I mean I would play with Pigpen and we would make these, you know, I guess we would have these really loud, noisy sessions, and to me it was like emotional. And people would come up and say, ÃÂWow, thatÃÂs so cool the way itÃÂs like sort of anti-music,ÃÂ and I would say, ÃÂIt is? It doesnÃÂt sound that way to me.ÃÂ I think of it as just the same way I think of it when IÃÂm listening to a Brahms piano piece. Not to compare myself to Coltrane, but I like that story of critics thinking that Coltrane was expressing anger and hate, when it just sounded beautiful to him; and they were all excited that he was expressing this anger, and it was a bunch of crap. I feel the same way. You know, I guess at times I do think that IÃÂm pretty noisy and maybe pretty loud and maybe pretty earthshattering, but itÃÂs always because, for better or for worse, I like it.
JW: No, no. I think thatÃÂs interesting. You know, I just started listening to some classic Chicago blues albums with Otis Spann on piano. Do you dig that stuff?
WH: ThatÃÂs great music. Otis Spann -- ItÃÂs true -- thatÃÂs why I started playing the piano. IÃÂd played piano just a tiny bit when I was a kid, you know, the usual sort of year and a half taking lessons, then I quit. Then my mother asked me when I was 13 if I wanted to take music lessons again, and I said okay, IÃÂll take guitar lessons. But I got a classical guitar teacher and it wasnÃÂt what I wanted to do. I mean, I didnÃÂt even know it wasnÃÂt what I wanted to do ÃÂ I thought thatÃÂs what you had to do to get to play guitar. So I sort of didnÃÂt last very long, and on my fourteenth birthday she asked me again. And I said, yeah, IÃÂd like to study blues piano, because IÃÂd really gotten into Otis Spann. So I got to this piano teacher who was in one of these piano studios, you know, pop music, pop piano style, and I said that IÃÂd like to play blues. And he gave me a written thing, you know, a two-page arrangement of St. Louis Blues where with your left hand you go [sings bass line] da da-da da-da da-da. So I took like three lessons; I couldnÃÂt stand it, and I realized that I could, you know, goof around on my right hand while I kept my left hand doing the thing that was written. And I thought, oh that kind of sounds like what these guys are doing. Then I quit, and just taught myself from then on. I didnÃÂt take another lesson for six or seven years, which is why I was such a slow learner. But yes, absolutely, Otis Spann! ThatÃÂs about as soulful music as you can find, in all ways. ItÃÂs very understated too. ItÃÂs not soulful in a big way; itÃÂs in a real quiet, personal way. The solo piano stuff ÃÂ itÃÂs sweet ÃÂ itÃÂs just beautiful.
For music and further information on Wayne Horvitz please visit his website: www.songlines.com.
