Kenny Garrett Speaks Through The Soul of His Jazz

Mental bungee-jumping may not be their sport of choice, but a cerebral ledge exists that sooner or later every jazz musician must leap off. One day, ready or not, tuning up or shaking down their instrument, they will glance in a mirror, hug a pregnant mother-to-be, second-line a funeral, walk in the deepest, dark woods, chance a liaison, wake in the night with a heart beating like Brian Blade hitting a snare, receive a message from another dimension, get lost in Miles Davis or Charlie Parker or lost in space and wind up thinking about their immortal soul.

Or, the other soul. You know what I mean—their music's soul. And it is impossible to find either one with a MRI or CT scan.

Popular culture points to Hitsville, U.S.A. / Motown / Detroit City as the birthplace of soul, and renowned saxophonist Kenny Garrett has a love affair with the Michigan metropolis. He wants nothing more than to represent his birthplace by embracing its rich jazz, r & b and gospel heritage, i.e., the soul of the city.

"Sounds From The Ancestors reflects Detroit," Garrett stated. "I wanted to go back to my roots. Growing up and listening to the Motown Sound gave me a great feeling when I was a kid. I wanted to capture that feeling while tapping into various sources. I wanted my teachers like Marcus Belgrave and Bill Wiggins to be happy and proud of me. I wanted people to know I was representing Detroit, even if I didn't say that because it's a certain level of musicianship that we have, when you come from Detroit."

Garrett's soul is not some pale vapor wafting off a bucket of metaphysical dry ice. Suffering, low-down and funky, seasons soul—truth—but bliss is the yeast that makes it rise. Yet, because soul is linked to music (as opposed to the soul, which is linked to spirit), it steadfastly demands those who hear it to move and groove.

Garrett was given the gift of soul like a prize in a box of Crackerjacks. He did not have to scuffle to find it, just pick up his saxophone and blow. And for nearly four decades, he has built a career that has seen him become recognized as one of the most versatile artists with his ability to incorporate post-bop jazz into electronica as in his mind-blowing duo record Who Killed AI? (Mack Avenue, 2024) with Svoy (Mikhail Tarasov).

He moves so easily and naturally from, say, a John Coltrane vibe to a post-bebop feel, from an Afrobeat rhythm to an electronica groove. He has always done this. The music keeps changing shape as he continues to push the envelope, not only displaying an innate ability to move stealthily through the changes but to welcome the journey. And he would not have it any other way. His ability, yes, his soul is God-given.

"I learned from Art Blakey that the music comes from the Creator, and we try to be the conduit and let it pass through us to the audience. I just try to come with that kind of mindset and take people on a journey."

If you need to visualize soul, think of it as a cross between a wolf howl, a photon, and a dribble of dark molasses. But what it really is, as near as I can tell, is an interface with the mystery that allows a musician to put a smile on listeners' faces and a skip in their step. Kenny Garrett's music does all that and more. His music brings many things: laughter, risk, imagination, meditation, wild nature, passion, compassion, beauty, iconoclasm and driving around in the rain with the top down. Listen intently to any one of his 18 albums as a leader, and it feels like his soulful music is soaking into your core like wine spilled into high thread-count bed linens on a sultry Saturday night. It is a stain that w ill not wash out, and why on Earth would you want it to? Long-term listening may result in irreversible transformation into some final eschatological whoop-dee-do. It does not get much better than that.

Let's try something a little different and see what happens.

All About Jazz: Good morning. I have read that you like to walk at 7 a.m. Are you just getting back?

Kenny Garrett: I walk pretty much every day for about an hour, but today I'm doing yard work so I'll walk later.

AAJ: Congratulations on winning the Downbeat alto sax poll. Quite an honor and recognition of your commitment to making wonderful music. Does that make it fourteen times in a row? They should just name the category after you and let someone else win.

KG: I'm not even sure. I don't really count them. When it shows up, someone tells me. It is a fact that I'm grateful people are still thinking about me. I've been doing this for a long time, so I'm glad that people recognize that I'm contributing to the music.

AAJ: Your last couple of records have been exploring less-traveled territory. Do you think there is a resistance among regular jazz folks or critics to making departures from say, post-bop style music? Like on a spacewalk, the tether gets stretched to the limit.

KG: Well, I see it totally different. I don't really see it as a departure. I think sometimes as you are learning to play this music called jazz, it's a challenge and takes a very long time to figure out where you want to be in the music. What I mean by that exactly is that I've been doing music for a long time, but no one really knows all of my history. I mean, I've played with Miles, I've played with Sting, I've played with Peter Gabriel, played with Guru (Jazzmatazz). I've done so many different genres of music and those experiences actually helped me. So, when I played with Chick Corea and John McLaughlin, I ended up recording Seeds from Underground, which was influenced by Latin music.

AAJ: All those things have influenced the way that you hear music?

KG: It's all part of it. I don't think of it as being this one way; I think it of just actually intertwining all of 'em. I've always done that. If you go back and listen to my music, I've had records that had go-go beats just because I love music and all music, not just one style of music. But I'll tell you a story that is pretty interesting. I was recently doing an Asian tour, and this kind of helped me to understand what happens to people. I had been in Japan probably about six times, and I speak a little Japanese. Now, I'm used to things happening a certain way, like usually I have problems sleeping on the plane. I didn't have any problems this time. I slept on the plane. That's how I learned Japanese because I couldn't sleep because of the pressure.

Anyway, it's like a 13-hour flight. So, I would study in business class, and then they'll get tired of me. Then I'd go to the economy, and they'll get tired of me. Then I'd go to upper deck. By the time I get to Japan, I've learned a lot of Japanese. Well, this time I wasn't jet-lagged. I got off the plane and we were riding to the hotel, and I noticed that I was seeing everything and Japan seemed different to me. It had been six years. It's like, wow, there's not a lot of traffic, but it's Saturday. After checking in to the hotel, I'm going to see my repairman, who usually fixes my soprano saxophone. And then I jump on the train.

The reason I'm saying all this is that sometimes when things move from the norm that we know, it becomes an issue because we're used to it being a certain way. So, my fans or some of my fans are used to it being a certain style of music that I play. In order to grow as a musician, you have to continue to be open to music, just like when you started playing music. That's why I never think about me making a departure. I just think of me reaching for the music that I've been influenced by, or the relationship I've had with some musicians that I'm playing with. I'm just reaching for that.

AAJ: When you put it that way, it becomes more of an arrival, picking up things wherever you go.

KG: Yeah, pretty much. Definitely, it's similar to that for sure. But what I like to do as a composer and as a musician, I like to find out. I like to show up to play. And if the artist says to me, well, I'm looking for Kenny Garrett as opposed to someone else, that's what they get because usually when I show up, I just want to interpret the music. Whatever that music requires, that's what I want to do with that music.

I'll give you a case. I'll give you another story. I was sitting and listening to John Coltrane when the producer of Sting's record called me and said can you be in the studio in an hour? I'm thinking to myself, I've been listening to Coltrane and there's a lot of harmony will be coming to this record date. I get there and he says, just play. So, I play, but now my ears are wide open, harmonically. I started thinking, well, I know he doesn't want to hear that, but that's what I'm hearing now. As I started to play, I tried different styles and eventually he got what he wanted. I think he wanted me to just walk in and, bam, this is it. But because I was listening to some other music that was influencing my sound, the way I hear it to sound, I'm going to a Sting record and it doesn't require that.

But at the same time, it's good for me because I'm just practicing. I said, well, is it this style? Is it this style? He said, no. He just wanted me to play because a lot of times people have in mind what they want you to play. And I guess eventually after playing for a while, I got to that point and I played what he heard, and that was that. I still liked it. When I go to play with people, I try to interpret the music first and foremost. I don't want to just go in and say, because I'm here, I should play this way. No. What style is this? What is required for this music? What are you hearing as a composer? That's what I want to know because I want people to reciprocate when they come and hear my music. What are you hearing? What is your interpretation of this? And I think that keeps the music open.

AAJ: Do you look at all the albums you have made like chapters in a book, a progression as you would a biography?

KG: For sure. I did a photo session and I remember they were playing all of my music just randomly, not CD by CD. I said, wow, that's a lot of music. And I started thinking, well, it is part of the story. There are some things that happened during that story because I don't believe that you can close a chapter until you finish that story. I basically feel like all these chapters, all the albums or CDs are part of my history of where I am at. It's a documentary. I'm documenting where I was at this time in my life. I documented Sounds from the Ancestors because I was looking to present this music that I heard as a kid. When I was a kid. I used to hide my albums around Thanksgiving, all the albums would fill me up. And then after when Christmas would come, I would take them all out and listen to them all day, all the music. I wanted that experience, put that on CD, just the influence of all that music I had heard. I was trying to capture that spirit and that vibe that I was looking for at that time. And that's why we have Sounds from the Ancestors.

AAJ: On Who Killed AI? was that coming from the same place, just experimenting with music?

KG: What I really like about that CD is really the canvas that I had to paint. It wasn't what I thought. It was just a canvas and we were experimenting with music and what I was playing. It was relatively easy. I was in my living room just playing this music my friend and I created together. Basically, he would show up with a track and I would kind of play along with the track. I mean, I would just make up a melody. It was fun. I never thought about it. It seemed like it was the easiest record I've ever made. I never had to go into the studio. I'm in my own studio in my living room and I'm just playing. And that was the best because it was free. It was nothing about you're in the studio and there is just a certain amount of time you got to finish. It was none of that. I just felt that it was really free.

AAJ: SVOY, or Misha Tarasov, was a young pianist from Vladivostok when you met him. When did the idea come to do an entire album with him?

KG: Well, the idea came actually from him. We were at a Me'Shell Ndegéocello concert, and this happens a lot, I meet musicians and they always say we should do a project together, but it never comes to fruition. But it just happened that he was living two minutes away from me, so there's no reason for it not to happen. He came by with a computer and played a track. He said, what do you hear? So, I just played what I heard. I played a melody on the spot, and that was that. Then I would say, well, why don't you write a tune like this? And he'll come back with something and I say, yeah, I like that, or no, let's do something different. It was just really just bouncing off each other.

AAJ: Amazing how he's able to make it sound like a band with electronics.

KG: That's what he does. That's his thing. He has records, but a lot of time it's just him and his computer, and that's kind of how a lot of people do in music these days.

AAJ: There seems to be more soprano saxophone on that album. Would you still consider alto saxophone to be your primary instrument?

KG: Alto sax is my main instrument. I also play soprano and I also play piano, which I like. I played piano on a lot of records, sometimes as just a part and sometimes as a solo.

AAJ: How and when did you come to learn the piano?

KG: That's a funny story. Well, I was actually kind of forced to learn the piano. I was roommates with Mulgrew Miller and Donald Brown. And when I would play or ask questions, they would say, well, you already playing this information on your saxophone. And I would say, well, what is that? So, they really didn't show me anything. I had to go to the piano and figure out what it was that I was doing that they said I was doing. And that's how I started sitting the piano. I can remember one day I was at Rutgers University, and I was hearing something. Instead of going into my horn, I just played it on the piano.

AAJ: Did anyone ever try to convince you to make a piano record?

KG: Sure, a lot of piano players have really been encouraging me to record a piano record. I remember Chick Corea encouraged me. We were doing a sort of piano festival. And Makoto Ozone had a big band. We were playing with the five-piece band at that point. We went on first and they had about 15 to 30 pianos at a big barn. Everybody in the band could sit at the piano and play, but I never played because Chick was there. So, one day when the concert was over and nobody was around, I went in the barn and I was playing. Chick ran up to me, he said, Kenny, Kenny. Kenny. He said five times. He said, you a pianist? And I'm looking at Chick, thinking you're a pianist. I don't say this, but I'm looking at him. So, he says, well, come to my house out in Florida. I'm going to go swimming, and you record, and I'm going to give you the tape when you go out. He said, every time you play a concert, play one song on the piano. People started to encourage me, and Chucho Valdes did the same thing for me. He said, man, you ever think about recording a piano record? I don't think about it like that. I love to play the piano. I love to study from the piano. It's more than that. I can go on for days but I play for the fun of it.

AAJ: Do you do any composing on the piano?

KG: On both. Sometimes on the piano; sometimes it's on the saxophone. The melodies come. One of the songs I've written, like the song I wrote for Roy Hargrove called "Hargrove," that one. I wrote the chords on the piano, and then I started singing the melody.

AAJ: Composing on the piano, you have everything—melody, bass, rhythm, chords. Isn't it much easier than composing on a horn?

KG: Well, I mean, it's more of an arrangement with a piano. You can orchestrate the parts. And then once I play the piano part, then I go to the drums and I play. I start thinking about what do I want the drummer to play. It's always something that I think about, also the baseline. With the piano, I can do the baseline, but the drum part, I like to sit at the drum as I'm working on it and say, what am I hearing for a beat?

AAJ: You received on the job training with Duke Ellington And His Orchestra Orchestra and Miles Davis. That's about as good a prep school as anyone can attend. Would you tell our readers a little bit about your experience with each of those leaders?

KG: With the Duke Ellington Orchestra directed by Mercer Ellington, I was set under the wings of Harold Minerve, who was a protégé of Johnny Hodges. I learned so much from him on tones and how to interpret the music. There was also Cootie Williams, who was in the band and came out of retirement to play on a tour we did in Australia and Japan. Matter of fact, Cootie was the one who encouraged me to write my own compositions. I learned how to play with 18 musicians, and I took that on to play with Miles and Woody Shaw and Freddie Hubbard and all the other musicians that I played with.

It was one thing to sit in the band with Chuck Connors, who was one of the original members who played bass trombone with Duke Ellington, and to sit under David Young, who was playing guitar in the chair of Paul Gonzales. To hear those guys like Mulgrew Miller, who was playing the chair of Barrie Lee Hall Jr., it was something else because I was a young kid, like 17, 18 years old, right out of high school. That experience was great just to travel and to be able to play the music and to hear the stories, to learn from the elders.

AAJ: I read somewhere that Cootie Williams gave Barrie Lee Hall his last trumpet before he died.

KG: That's a fact. He played in the style of Cootie. When Mercer died, Barrie Lee Hall took over as conductor for a while.

AAJ: Something else I read was a comment about how Miles wore Sonny Stitt's dirty drawers. What's that all about?

KG: That was when I was auditioning for a movie and met this great tenor saxophonist by the name of Gary Thomas. He asked me if I was interested in playing with Miles. So, I actually called Miles, but he wasn't there. The valet was there, and he said Miles will call me back. So, Miles called me, and of course, what happens, I think it's somebody else. I thought it was Mulgrew Miller pretending to be Miles. Anyway, Miles asked me to send him a tape, some music I was working on. He said, "Hey, Kenny, you sound like you wearing Sonny Stitt's dirty drawers. Wow! Okay. So, that was how that expression showed up.

AAJ: In 1984, you recorded your first album as a leader. Introducing Kenny Garrett (Criss Cross Jazz, 1984) was made as a quintet with Tony Reedus, Nat Reeves, Mulgrew Miller and Woody Shaw. One of the songs was titled after your drummer, "Reedus' Dance."

KG: We all came together through Mulgrew Miller, James Williams to Donald Brown. That was the Memphis connection. We were roommates. When I first moved to New York, we all stayed with Mulgrew and Tony Reedus, and we would work out together, we would practice together. Actually, I've always been inspired to write by people around me. I've written a song for Tony Reedus; I've written a song for Mulgrew. I've written songs for everyone who's crossed paths with me: for Chick, for Chucho, for Miles. I envisioned the way Tony would play a samba beat, and wrote the song for him.

AAJ: It seems that in a good part of your career, you always have some of the elder statesmen of jazz playing on your records. For example, Joe Henderson was on Black Hope, Ron Carter on African Exchange Student and Bobby Hutcherson appeared on Happy People. That's no coincidence, is it?

KG: I always felt that I wanted to be around the elders. I mean, that's how I was going to learn the music, by playing the music. So, I always surrounded myself with the elders in some way on every record. I mean, they understood and I figured, well, if I'm going in the wrong direction, hopefully they'll tell me. One of the most important things is generational. If there was some advice that they could offer me, that would be the time.

AAJ: Could you talk about any one of them in particular who was helpful in a certain way?

KG: All of them were revelatory. By having Woody Shaw on my first record, that was a blessing. It wasn't on a big label. I gave all my money, but still I wanted him on my record. Having Ron Carter and Elvin Jones on African Exchange Student (Atlantic, 1990) was great because I had been listening to them on "Passion Dance," and I liked the way they had elasticity, if that's the correct word. I wanted to play with that rhythm section.

AAJ: You're talking about the song on the McCoy Tyner Blue Note album The Real McCoy.

KG: Exactly. That rhythm section was great, and then to have Joe Henderson on my record. Wow! When I think about that now, I really wanted to study with him. The first time I applied for a National Endowment for the Arts grant. I don't know if we got that or not. Actually, I was really trying to go to the San Francisco Conservatory to study with him, and that didn't work out. He never picked up the phone there at the university. Then I thought, well, the best way to get a lesson is to call him to be on my record. And that was the best lesson I could ever have had, just to have him there to hear how he was interpreting my music.

All these great players brought something to me. Having Bobby Hutchinson on my record was great because that was the music that I was hearing, and I wanted to stay in that sound. Bobby was playing on Happy People (Warner Brothers, 2002) and also playing on Beyond the Wall (Nonesuch, 2006). Then Pharoah Sanders. I mean, Pharoah was one of my mentors. To have these elders there, it was almost like they're you, that they were feeling what you were doing musically.

AAJ: You say Pharoah Sanders was one of your mentors. In what way? Could you explain?

AAJ: I look at Pharoah like John Coltrane. Pharoah stood on the bandstand with Coltrane. I stood on the bandstand with Pharoah. I got a chance to play with him in a lot of different situations. Matter of fact, when African Exchange Student came out, I was behind the curtains and heard Pharoah talking about it, We just had a relationship after that. I mean, every time he was in town, I would show up. I would have to bring my horn. Not that I wanted to bring my horn, I just had to bring my horn. He wanted me to play every time, and that was a beautiful experience. From that time on, he was my mentor. Like I said, I listened to him and when I had some gigs or some records, I would call him.

AAJ: The way you put it sounds like you had a special connection with him.

KG: I wanted him to be part of the music we shared, because I mean, he was a kindred spirit and that came out when we would play. Sometimes he would go to the same note I would go to, and then eventually he would go to the upper register and I'd stay down at the lower register. We were hearing the same way. So that's what I mean by "he's my mentor." But there's a lot of people who were mentors, directly or indirectly. I'd always think of the elders as mentors. I mean, they're the ones who were offering you information, and to stand on the bandstand with Freddie Hubbard was something. Freddie was firing every night. The only thing you can do at that point is to try to get to that level. So, I stayed in the woodshed.

AAJ: How long were you with Miles Davis?

KG: I was with Miles five-and-a-half years, hearing that language every day. That's beautiful. There's nothing you can do with that but pick up the language. Really the way with Miles is just like the African tradition. He would play a line. I would play a line back. No one told me to do that. Then he played something else. I played it back. I didn't know that was what he wanted. It's just the way it happened. And then from that, I'm learning his language.

AAJ: Black Hope was your first album with Warner Brothers (1980), and that was a quartet: Kenny Kirkland, Charnett Moffett and Brian Blade. You stuck with that label for over twenty years and seven albums. Some fine music came out of that period.

KG: I did other records with Charnett Moffett. I played on his record. He's played on a lot of my records. We did a project together called General Music Project (Evidence, 1997) with Charles Moffett and Geri Allen. The first time Brian played with me was on Black Hope. People thought he played with Josh (Joshua Redman) first, but he played with me first. I remember seeing him playing at the Village Vanguard with Harry Carney, and afterwards he came to the house for milk and cookies. He was actually still in college, and I didn't want to take him out. I told him once he graduated, I would take him and bring him out, and that's what I did. We went to Japan. There's a video that we did in Japan with Junko Onishi, Brian Blade and Chris Thomas. I'll send you the link. (This is a one-hour set from the Blue Note in Tokyo, 1991, with outstanding sound quality).

AAJ: It was the same with Kenny Kirkland. You played on some of his albums and he played on yours.

KG: I was playing all the time with Mulgrew Miller because he was my roommate. One day he said to me, "You need to go play with some other piano players." I ended up calling Kenny Kirkland. We had this thing, We both loved German chocolate cake. He liked BMWs. I liked BMWs. We just had this shared commonality. I played with Nat Reeves, Jeff Tain Watts and Kenny Kirkland as a band. They were actually out in California doing the "Tonight Show" with Branford Marsalis. We played a lot and recorded Songbook (Warner Brothers, 1997) during that time.

AAJ: Well, from your Black Hope band, Kirkland. Moffett and Henderson are gone now. "Van Gogh's Left Ear" was a great track on that record. But Henderson wasn't on that track, was he?

KG: No, Henderson played on "Bye Bye Blackbird," "Tacit Dance" and "Computer G." He only played on three tracks. He really wanted to play on a lot more, but at that point, I couldn't afford him. I said, well, you can play, but I can't pay you. I think that was a great record date for him because he was really inspired at the rehearsal. He wanted to play some more, which I was happy about because when the elders show up to play on your records, you want to really write something. that hopefully will inspire them.

AAJ: Were you listening to some r & b or soul music by chance when Black Hope was recorded? You can hear elements of that in the songs, or so it seems.

KG: I came from Motown, so some of the records, like Black Hope are actually reminiscent of Motown. I mean, I'm from Detroit, so that's there. I grew up listening to all the Motown and The Four Tops, The Temptations, The Spinners, The Dramatics, All of that music. I listened to gospel, listened to everything. So yes, there was a lot of r & b or soul in there. But there's a record before that called Prisoner of Love (Atlantic, 1989), which I think a lot of people really slept on that record. I think a lot of people slept on Black Hope, too, but that's part of my heritage, that music, and it stays with me.

AAJ: Another song you wrote for a drummer was on Happy People. You played some serious soul-searching sax on it. The last track was "Brother B. Harper."

KG: There was a lady in Detroit who was a Billy Harper fan. Her name was Mary, and she loved Billy Harper. I was like, who is this Billy Harper guy? When I moved to New York, I used to go down to Sweet Basil. He used to play down there, but the first time I saw him, it was in a place called Tacoma Station. He was wearing this black leather and all black. Say what? And I remember hearing his music was powerful, and the impression it had on me. I remember one day I was composing and I wrote a song for him because, I mean, he's contributed. It's like a lot of guys that we forget about, but he's contributed to the music. He's still contributing to the music.

AAJ: Chris Dave was your drummer on that record. He came from a hip hop background.

KG: Chris is known for, of course, playing with Mint Condition , which is kind of a r & b band. But those guys want to play like Chris Dave and Ronald Bruner. I mean, so many drummers. Marcus Baylor and Mark Whitfield, Jr. were on the Pushing the World Away (Mack Avenue, 2013) album. Oh man, there's a whole gang of guys came from Houston to play with me as far as drummers.

AAJ: Rudy Bird was another drummer you played on dates with back many years ago.

KG: Actually, we go back to the Ellington Orchestra days directed by Mercer, and we also played together with Miles. He played with Lauryn Hill and with Michael Jackson. We go way back, and when I needed percussion, I called him back up and said, Rudy, let's go play some music. We used to drive around and talk about our dreams, aspirations, and stuff like that. I've been knowing Rudy for a long time, and also Nat Reeves is another person I've been knowing for a long time. He's played bass in pretty much all my bands.

AAJ: You must be thinking about what your next project is going to be. Is there anything that has been on your mind, any direction you want to go towards? Has it hit you yet?

KG: Usually, it's a process. The music I write pulls me in the direction that I should go in, but of course, it's definitely around that time to start thinking about it. Sometimes I don't like to do it too quickly, but it's about time, for sure.

AAJ: In recent years, it seems like you have made the effort to include more of a rhythmic element into your music. Are you concerned at all that won't be as commercial or what people have come to expect from you?

KG: Well, rhythm is very important for any genre, so I don't really think about if it's going to be too much or too little. I just kind of present the music because, you know how we started the conversation, it's very important to continue to grow. I spent a lot of time in Guadalupe, which is in the French Caribbean, learning about the seven rhythms. Those people started saying, you remind me of Sonny Rollins. I said, well, of course Sonny Rollins is one of my heroes. But I listen to all styles of music: African music, Indian music, Middle Eastern, Eastern music. I never think about if it's too much, I just present the music. I feel if I present it on the highest level I can, then that's the best I can offer for it, and just keep it honest.

AAJ: Often you can hear a spiritual or gospel element to your music. It reminds me sometimes of the music you hear in a black church. Is that something you are cognizant of?

KG: Yeah, I'm definitely cognizant of that. I feel that's part of the music, and even when I'm playing Japanese music or Korean or Chinese or whatever, I'm still looking for that same thing, that same spirituality in the music. My father was a deacon, so I've heard the church music. It's prevalent in a black family. That's the sound that I put into my music. Some people recognize and some people don't. But that's definitely in my music.

AAJ: Still more drummers to mention. "For Art's Sake" was certainly a tribute to Art Blakey, but isn't it to Tony Allen as well?

KG: The interesting thing about that is how I came to the conclusion that I know Tony Allen was influenced by Art Blakey, and he wanted to be like Art Blakey. And then after playing with Fela Kuti, he ended up creating an a Afrobeat pop genre. I saw him actually right before the pandemic in Paris at la Violette, and I told him that I was writing a song for him and Art Blakey. He asked if we were going to play it tonight. I said, well, we're not going to play it tonight because we don't know it yet. But if you're going to play, we can probably figure it out. That was the last time I saw him. They both contributed to the music, and so I wanted to have my drummer, Ronald Bruner, find a way to create something between both of those schools that we would play.

I had been thinking about mainly a traditional kind of beat for Art Blakey, and I remember I was playing the song when he was in the booth. He started playing a beat, and I said, that's the beat. That's the beat that's going to work for this song. It's modern, and it's like the perfect beat. It fits what I needed for the track. But I kind of felt it was paying homage to both of 'em because Tony Allen was influenced by Art Blakey and found himself through that influence.

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