Mike Mainieri: Man Behind Bars

Bendik, being Bendik Hofseth, a Norwegian saxophonist who was part of the same scene that included up-and-comers Nils Petter Molvær and Eivind Aarset, and established ECM artists like Arild Andersen. "It was the weirdest thing," Mainieri explains. "Maureen Thompson called me to write some jazz TV commercials. She was going out with a Norwegian drummer, and had produced Bendik's demo. They gave it to me, because of the studio I now had. I had this demo and it was this guy singing, and I thought, I really liked the tunes. But I said, 'Who's playing saxophone?' and they said, 'Everything, that's him.'

"I was amazed because everything sounded real," Mainieri continues. "The technology was amazing. I swore the drums sounded real, the only other person that played on it was Eivind Aarset—I love him, he's a genius. I was about to make a Steps album, so I flew him in from Norway after hearing the demo. Bendik sounded kind of like Jan Garbarek; he flew in and did the album [N.Y.C. (Intuition, 1989)], and we signed and managed him as an artist and got him a record deal with Sony. The first album he did was called IX (Sony, 1991); it was all those songs from the demo. We did the album, Sony signed Bendik, and it was a shame because he only made one record with them. Someone happened to walk past the office while he was playing the disc, and said, 'Lets make him the next Sting.'

"And the next thing you know, they're playing him at big A&R meetings, and they're saying, 'This is the greatest thing.' They put a guitar in his hands, made a video with girls dancing...and Norwegians are humble cats, all he wanted was to bring his band over. They wouldn't bring his band over [to the United Stats] but they took him to strip bars and had like thousands of dollars worth of wine. They hooked him up to play 'The Star Spangled Banner' at an NBA game. Here's this guy from Norway, he doesn't know it, so he goes in, and there's like 25,000 people, the place is packed, he says, 'I'm surrounded by these black guys who are seven feet tall.' He forgot how the song went, so he just started playing it over again, and some guy walked over to him, patted him on the head and he was booed out of there. He went back to New York with his tail between his legs. It was too bad. But we did go on tour with that band in Europe, with Jeff Andrews or Victor Bailey, and Steve Smith, Rachel Z and Jimi Tunnell, a guitarist.

The new incarnation of Steps Ahead and N.Y.C. did well for Mainieri and the group. "The first record was for Intuition Records, a German label, and was kind of a hit there. There was one tune that was played on the radio incessantly, they played it like crazy. It sold about sixty or seventy thousand, and Steps typically never sold more than 20. That band toured Europe and the States for about five years. We played the hell out of Europe. They loved that band. Tunnell was singing, Bendik sang some too, until we hit Rome, where they almost rioted because they expected Brecker to be there.

"It was very Italian," Mainieri continues, "they were expecting a jazz band! We come out and we start playing this rock tune. We're in this huge tent, and I start hearing whistles, which over there means, 'This really sucks!' Then our bassist steps up and starts singing a love song, and they went crazy, throwing stuff at us. We escaped with our lives, as they were rocking the bus back and forth; Bendik said, 'Tonight I lost my virginity!' But we made it through that and played all over Europe. I met all the European cats, and they were all young guys; I went up to Eivind [Aarset] and said, How do you do that; what are those knobs?'"

The Norwegian Posse and Northern Lights

Mainieri would ultimately recruit Aarset and the "Norwegian Posse" for Northern Lights (NYC Records, 2006), an album that mixed Mainieri originals, a couple of standards and some open-ended improv into a compelling disc that demonstrates, perhaps more than many, just how open-minded Mainieri continues to be, even as he was approaching his seventies. His admiration for Aarset goes even further. "He's an amazing musician, a very deep player. I had a very weird arrangement of [John Coltrane's] 'Giant Steps' that I was gonna record, but I never got to it. I said to Eivind, 'I'm gonna do this one Coltrane piece, you don't have to play on it.' Which was very presumptuous of me—that he couldn't blow on it. He started playing it, like 'You mean this?' I was thinking, 'Look at this motherfucker!' His language is so deep. And Bugge [Wesseltoft] is unbelievable. He's got it all. They just choose not to do it, it's not their tradition.

"[Recording] 'Nature Boy' wasn't even my idea. [Live Sampler] Jan [Bang] got into a nice groove with it, and we start playing the tune, and then Nils Petter started singing it. It went on for 20 minutes; Nils Petter sang the whole thing and then played trumpet, and he said, 'Don't put that on there!' [laughs] That's how that tune wound up on the record."

Contrary to purists who look at someone like Pål "DJ Strangefruit" Nyhus with a certain amount of derision, Mainieri is open enough to realize that he's not just an incredibly musical turntablist, but one whose knowledge of the music goes far and wide. "This guy has like ears like an elephant," Mainieri enthuses, and continues to heap praise on Jan Bang. "Jan was there with us, he programmed a little of the stuff and was building this treasure chest of sounds from a festival we'd done, with the finale in a church, with Jan using everything we had played and performed."

As well-conceived as Northern Lights sounds and feels, it was largely built from the ground up in the studio. "I brought one tune that was fully orchestrated, called 'Vertigo,' and everything else was done in the studio. I wanted to do a Björk tune; I had the melody and changes. Everything else on the disc we jammed, which was a really good way for me to work with the band. I was going to do another Northern Lights record, because we're touring in February [2010], but I wasn't feeling well. Still, [keyboardist] Bugge [Wesseltoft] likes to construct a lot of things on the spot, have a sketch and then start building, so I'm looking forward to the next gig, which is gonna be with Bugge, Bendik, and either [drummer] Paolo [Vinaccia] or Auden [Kleive]. The Norwegians are very family-oriented, which is a great thing. To have Bugge commit to the tour is a big deal."

That artists like Wesseltoft draw huge crowds in Europe and farther abroad but can barely draw flies here, seems a poor reflection on a somewhat xenophobic American scene. "Bugge came here last year [2008]," says Mainieri. "And he said, 'Where can I play?' He wound up playing a little joint in the East Village, and there were like eight people there. I brought friends and they loved it but there was no one there. There were a few Norwegians there at the bar. Pretty soon, it'll be like, 'Come, listen and I'll pay you $85. There are so many European bands: some great straight-ahead players in Italy; Germany is a totally different scene with DJs and other interesting music, different camps. And here, there are so many kids coming out of conservatory, and where do they go? A lot wind up becoming teachers, and still there are more students coming up. I've tried to hip others to what's happening in Norway, and they go, 'What the fuck is that? It's noise, man!' I think there's something more organic going on there; either you get it or you don't."

American Diaries and Behind Bars

Mainieri's discography as a leader, outside Steps Ahead, is relatively small but in every way consistent in its significance. It's also vastly overlooked. Two particularly intriguing discs are An American Diary (NYC, 1995) and An American Diary: The Dreaming (NYC, 1997). The first, with a core group of saxophonist Joe Lovano, Eddie Gomez and Peter Erskine, explores music by a cross-section of American composers including Leonard Bernstein, Aaron Copland, Frank Zappa and Samuel Barber, as well as a handful of originals by Mainieri and Erskine. It reflects Maineiri's upbringing in a house where classical music was as influential as jazz, and Mainieri's arrangements are stunning, especially a waltz-time version of West Side Story's "Somewhere" that goes to completely unexpected places. The Dreaming, with George Garzone replacing Lovano and a variety of guests including percussionist Arto Tuncboyaciyan, wife Dee Carstensen on harp, cellist Erik Friedlander and slide guitarist David Tronzo, took a different turn; an even more personal album, it incorporates a wealth of musical and philosophical traditions that have resonated throughout Mainieri's life, ranging from Australian Aboriginals and the Sephardic tradition to Philippine folk songs, American folk music and the religious prayers of the Peyote Indians. Together, they paint an even broader picture of Mainieri and his appreciation of all things musical, but filtered through a distinct jazz prism.

"The Copland piece ["Piano Sonata (Vivace)"] was the seed for An American Diary," says Mainieri. "I had been listening to Copland; I loved his scores and following his pieces. I heard that piano sonata on PBS and I thought, 'Wow, that doesn't really sound like Copland.' There was this fast, vivace section that I thought it sounded kinda Monkish. Then I started thinking about exploring some other classical pieces. I went through everything—operas, Bernstein pieces, Zappa and Charles Ives' unfinished symphony. It came together slowly."

The Dreaming's genesis was a little different. "I was on the road with Steps, and [singer] Noa opened for me in Israel," Mainieri continues. "She sang and knocked me out, and we became good friends, and so I asked her to sing on the album." As for Mainieri's writing for the album, it was as deep as it was listenable. "'R' is for Riddle" was almost like a riddle," he explains, "which we have in every culture. The song is built on tone rows; the vibraphone is playing 12-tone rows, four notes that change, while the sax is playing a different row. In the bridge there's this rhythm. So, when you put the little 'R' between every rest it spells abracadabra. It was architectural to me."

While the timing is still up in the air, Mainieri was so happy with the results of the two American Diary albums that a third is underway. "I'm about halfway through; I talked to Erskine recently, and he said, 'When are we gonna do it?' I said, 'I'm not there yet, I'm still building it.' I hope to have it complete by the end of next summer [2010]."

Both albums took considerable time to put together, but a third album released around the same time, that took far less, was Mainieri's Man Behind Bars (NYC, 1995). A true solo effort, with Mainieri playing all instruments—vibes, marimbas, chimes, xylophone, percussion, midi vibes, piano and drums—he literally recorded and mixed it over a weekend. With a series of spontaneous compositions, and a couple of well-chosen covers including a definitive reading of Wayne Shorter's Miles Davis-era "ESP," it's an album that sounds as though it was more preconceived, despite the truth of the matter. Drum machines drive the groove-centric homage to Jeremy & the Satyrs, "Satyr Dance," while hand percussion drives a Latin-esque version of John Coltrane's enduring "Equinox."

Still, the vibraphonist's feelings about the album were mixed, at least at the time. "I had a licensing deal with the German Intuition label, which put out NYC," Mainieri explains. "They were going bankrupt and I owed them one more album. They couldn't pay me and they said, 'You owe us one more album.' It was a Thursday, so I said, 'You'll have it Monday.' I went into my studio with my percussion instruments and a set of drums and, over the weekend, made the album. I thought, 'Wow, I should do this more often.' I get so distracted with things. I am still looking for the sketches of those scores. They were just little sketches, just ideas. I did the album in two or three days and sent it to Intuition, and said, 'Our deal is up.' I really didn't think much of that record. I didn't release it here, because I had a bad taste in my mouth. Other musicians have said, however, 'Hey, I like that album,' so I did finally release it, but I never sent it for review or promoted it in any way."

It's a shame, and with the passing of time, Mainieri looks fondly back at that time. "The three albums do connect. It was a good period for me; I was in a nice creative place around then, I had the studio and I hadn't had my daughter yet, or she was very young. I had a lot of time to write. I did go out on the road a little bit for those albums."

Mainieri has also worked producing his wife, Dee Carstensen—a vocalist, songwriter and harpist. "She came to New York from Rochester, and knew Tony Levin and Gadd. When she came to New York, they said, 'Find Mike Mainieri, he might produce your record.' She had a video of her singing and playing the harp, and so I signed her. She actually also sang on Bendik's IX."

The first album on which the two collaborated was Beloved One (NYC, 1993). "That wasn't her at all," Mainieri says. "I totally forgot she played the harp. So when we decided to make the record, we said, 'well let's make a pop record,' but she was really a folkie, and so her last album, Patch of Blue (NYC, 2005) was much more like her, with the harp more upfront. That was before she got sick."

Dee Carstensen and Marnix Busstra

The last couple years have been rough for Mainieri and Carstensen, as she was diagnosed with liver cancer, and Mainieri devoted much of his time to seeing her through surgery and treatment. In fact, with Carstensen becoming ill around the time of Northern Lights' release, Mainieri didn't have the time to promote it the way he'd have liked, and is considering reissuing it—which would be a great idea. The best news is that Carstensen's health has improved significantly, and Mainieri has begun refocusing his energies back on music. In addition to working on the new American Diary project, he's released an album with Dutch guitarist Marnix Busstra and his trio, Twelve Pieces. Mainieri first met Busstra in the guitarist's more electric, fusion-centric band. "I overdubbed some tracks with this fusion band, and we did some gigs in the Netherlands," Mainieri says. "My agreement [for business reasons] with him was that I wouldn't play outside the Netherlands."

While the fusion project wasn't a particularly happy fit for Mainieri, it did lead to something else. "I hadn't played in a quartet with a guitarist in years," Mainieri explains, "and Marnix fell in love with the American Diary record. He wanted me to do another tour with the group [after touring with the fusion group]. But I didn't want to; I wasn't having too much fun with that band musically. So he said, 'I'm gonna write some stuff like American Diary.' We did a couple tunes and it was fun. And when I appeared on the album, it was first released in Europe as Marnix Busstra Trio Featuring Mike Mainieri. He said, 'Do you think you could get any gigs in the US?' I said, 'No, honestly.' So he asked 'Do you think we could tour Europe?' I said I couldn't, because I'd piss off my European agent, but I said I'd put the record out here for him to get more exposure, but it'd be better to put our names together for him to get the exposure."

And so, the NYC Records edition of Twelve Pieces is credited to the Mike Mainieri/Marnix Busstra Quartet. The pairing of guitar and vibraphone has rarely sounded this good. As to whether or not the relationship will continue? "There are lots of excellent vibraphonists over there," Mainieri says. "So we'll see what happens. But Marnix is a really good guy. Twelve Pieces is a nice record and I was happy playing with him. I think there's a double live CD that he wants to get out. The label he was on wanted to record Twelve Pieces with one overhead mike, a stereo record—like an audiophile label—and we couldn't hear each other. The studio was huge, built for chamber orchestra, and it was a like playing in a basketball court. But when we went on tour, we recorded it and I think he's going to release that plus some other pieces that were really happening."

L'Image 2.0 and The Future

2009 also saw the release of 2.0, the decades-overdue debut from L'Image. The group has since done some touring, and there's a live CD and DVD coming up in 2010, from the group's first tour in 2008. "It was fun playing with these guys again, and it was a pretty successful tour," Mainieri enthuses. "The first gig was a festival, which was kind of a disaster because they spread us out on a big stage and we couldn't hear each other—it was televised and, of course, probably put up on YouTube. But all the clubs we played at, it was fine, it was happening. It turned out to be a successful tour and we're playing the Iridium this week [fall, 2009], so that should be a blast."

2.0 features a number of tunes played by L'Image back in the day, including the title track to Love Play. It's a treat to hear Spinozza featured—both as a player and with three compositional contributions—as he's guitarist who's remained busy as a session player in the ensuing years, but has never received the credit he's due. It's also great to hear Gadd's finessed groove on tracks like Warren Bernhardt's opening, gospel-tinged "Praise," a tune that could easily have fit into the repertoire of Stuff, Gadd's groove-driven collective from the 1970s. Finally, it's a rare opportunity to hear Tony Levin—who, in the last couple decades, has been more associated with progressive and art rock artists like King Crimson and Peter Gabriel—return to a jazz context. Once again, it's not about ability, it's about choice, as Levin easily winds his way through Maineri's more sophisticated changes on "Reunion" and the knotty but swinging "Gadd-Ddagit!"

Mainieri has also been talking about a Steps box set, a possibly six-disc set of live performances, which would be welcome as well, since the last Steps release was 2002's Holding Together (NYC), featuring an acoustic incarnation of the group with saxophonist Bob Berg (who died tragically in a car accident in December of that year), Eliane Elias, Marc Johnson and Peter Erskine. He also has a set of duets in the can with saxophonist Charlie Mariano, who sadly passed away in 2009. "That'll be my next release, along with a solo vibes recording," Mainieri says. "Charlie and I did a duo performance at an art gallery, maybe six years ago. I was on my way home and working my way through Cologne and Nice, and someone calls me and says, 'You've never played with Charlie!' And so there was this opportunity to play two or three concerts, and we had so much fun; it was pretty amazing. When I went back to record I really wanted to record with him as a duet. But when I got there, there was a drummer and bassist, and I said, 'OK that's fine.'"

But the session didn't go off without a snag. "On my way to Cologne I was carrying my bars with me and I crushed my hand in a subway door on the way to the recording session," Mainieri says. So it was kind of a drag. I had to use a different grip when I did the album, and the album was a lot of Coltrane stuff—mostly his ballads and standards. It's not your typical 'Trane album. Charlie'd been ill for quite a while, he was just about 80 or 81, and he was battling prostate cancer. But I went in, we did it in a day and it was all one or two takes. And there were some really nice moments. I I thought I should put the record out, and that's gonna be released. Charlie was a lovely man and a great player."

So, nearing 72, Mainieri not only has a lot on the go, but he's continuing to expand his musical horizons and work in a wide range of musical contexts, ranging from the straight-ahead to the electro-centric. "I have a lot of stuff in the can and I have to do it while I'm still vertical," says Mainieri. Here's hoping he stays that way for a long time to come.

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