Victor Lewis: The Drummer's Spirit
In this interview, Lewis tells us about his coming up as an aspiring musician in the midwest, as well as the musicians and groups he's worked with over the years. To the mix of recollections and reflections, he adds some fascinating ideas about jazz rhythm and drums, emphasizing their roots in African tribal music, human life, and, above all, what he calls the "spirit," the source of all music and rhythm that exists beyond the ego, a source to which he listens and which provides his inspiration.
AAJ: Let's start out with the notorious desert island question. If you were going to that desert island, and only had access to a few recordings, which would you take with you?
VL: I'd definitely take Miles Davis' Four and More (Columbia, 1966). Another would be John Coltrane's A Love Supreme (Impulse, 1965). Miles Davis' Kind of Blue (Columbia, 1959). For some variety, I'd take Nat "King" Cole's The Magic of Christmas (Capitol, 1960), Dakota Staton's The Late Late Show (Capitol, 1957), and organist Larry Young's Unity (Blue Note, 1965). Larry is part of the "Newark contingent" that includes Wayne Shorter, Woody Shaw, Tyrone Washington, and Sarah Vaughan. He was a very fine organ player who passed away very young. The album Unity is a must. It's got Joe Henderson, Woody Shaw, and Elvin Jones on it.
AAJ: What is it that appeals to you about Miles' album Four and More?
VL: I'll tell you a story about that. Growing up in Nebraska, one of my best buddies was also a drummer. His father was a trumpet player who idolized Miles Davis, and he'd always get Miles' records as soon as they came out. So me and my buddy were about 12 or 13 years old, and we had already heard most of the big band drummers that had come through our home town of Omaha. We saw and heard Sonny Payne with the Count Basie band, Buddy Rich. and Sam Woodyard with Duke Ellington. So we'd been into the big band drummers. It was mid-winter, and I was looking out my parents' window, and I see my buddy runnin' down the street in the snow. I opened the door, and said "What's up, man?" And he said, "My father just got the new Miles Davis record, and there's this incredible drummer on there!" So I said, "How good is he, is he as good as Buddy Rich?" And he said, "Oh, no, man, it's different." So we went back to his house, and his father put it on for us. The drummer was Tony Williams, and the way he played on that record opened up my imagination in terms of the dialogue that could take place between the drummer and the band. So that was a monumental awareness for me.
AAJ: Since we're on the subject, I was going to ask you which drummers you especially prefer and/or who influenced you the most.
VL: When I was a kid, my teacher took me to see Count Basie several times, and the first time was with Sonny Payne on drums. It knocked my socks off, his dynamics and his showmanship. It made me aware of how visual the drummer is. All of that physical energy and movement!
So, Sonny Payne. Then, of course, Tony Williams. All of the masters: Buddy Rich, Elvin Jones, Grady Tate, Roy Haynes, Art Taylor, and Billy Hart. Billy was a big influence and mentor. Those are the bebop and post-bop drummers. Then there are there those other guys like Roberto Silva, the Brazilian drummer who worked with singer Milton Nascimento and was also on Wayne Shorter's Native Dancer (Columbia, 1974 recording with Nascimento. Brazilian music has had a big influence on me.
AAJ: I'm surprised that you didn't mention Billy Higgins or Kenny Clarke.
VL: What an oversight! Billy influenced me a lot in terms of touch, that a drummer's signature is not only what he plays but his touch, the texture, the way he hits everything, the sound. Kenny Clarke was for me one of the "point of departure" guys. Maybe the pivotal guy.
AAJ: Nor did you mention Max Roach.
VL: Max, of course. Max's playing was very intelligent and deliberate. He had a very strong musicality in terms of how he wanted to shape the tune. And he would put something into the music that was out of the ordinary. Then, of course, there are the funk drummers, like Clyde Stubblefield who worked with James Brown; Bernard Purdy, Harvey Mason, and Steve Gadd.
I should mention a few other important influences and experiences that affected my playing a lot. When Miles Davis came to play in Omaha in August of '69, his drummer at the time, Jack DeJohnette, had a very profound impact on me visually in terms of the movement of his execution on the drums. Seeing him play opened up a realm of possibilities for me that I could only imagine from recordings. I was still young, and DeJohnette confirmed and transcended what I thought the rules of expression entailed. Jack was a major influence.
Before Jazz became an art form with performance standards similar to classical musicwith the rhythm, tone, and so on somewhat standardized and teachable, each musician had no choice but to define his own style. During my first year in New York, to the best of my recollection it was Clifford Jordanwho came to me and said: "I can hear who you've been listening to, you need to cut them loose and find your own shit." Up until that time I used to have a ritual of listening to my favorites while getting ready for a gig. I stopped doing it for a while and showed up to the gig by myself but with the spirit of what I got from that ritual. When I look back that was the beginning of my own style. Wayne Shorter summed it up when he said that you have to study everything, the legacy of your instrument, rudiments, scales, harmony, other cultures, and then forget it.
I also absolutely must mention drummer Ed Blackwell in the list of influences. And very important too have been the hand drummers I rubbed shoulders with, such as Potato, Don Alias, Jerry Gonzales, Ray Mantilla, Neil Clarke, Abdou M'Boup, Jumma Santos, Sammy Figueroa, Manolo Badrena. I kid about myself as having an Omaha, Nebraska clave, which is an oxymoron, a contradiction in terms! As an Afro-American drummer, these hand drummers were my tether to Africa.
I also want to mention that many of the "underdogs" taught me a great deal. These are the special guys in New York and around the world who are insufficiently acknowledged in the press but who are playing their ass off. They keep me humble, and I'm forever learning from them.
Coming of Age in Omaha, Nebraska