If there's one defining quality to Monty Alexander
's music, it's joy. An unmistakable undercurrent of happiness has been constant across several decades, dozens of recordings and countless performances all over the world. He could be honoring classic jazz balladeers, exploring the danceable "riddims" of his native Jamaica or anything in between, and you can always hear the spirit of celebration in there somewhere.
Alexander turns out to be just as delightful and effusive in conversation as he is on the piano bench. Befitting someone with such an extensive career, he's also a charming raconteur who can keep telling stories for hours and make it all fly by in a blink. Hitting his 75th birthday in June 2019 apparently still gave him no reason to start slowing down. He marked the occasion with an overseas trio tour in advance of a new recording, Wareika HillRasta-Monk Vibrations
(MACD Records), a collection of Thelonious Monk
songs adapted to his distinct reggae-fied style.
Labor Day will also see the tenth installment of the annual Monty Alexander Jazz Festival
, which presents a weekend full of fascinating acts old and new each summer in Easton, Maryland. Fresh off the plane home from Europe, he sounds endlessly excited about all these endeavors and always ready to share the love. All About Jazz:
Good afternoon, and thanks so much for taking the time to talk. Is it too late to wish you a happy belated birthday? Monty Alexander:
[laugh] Never too late! No. If it is too late, then I can apply it to next year. AAJ:
That's good. This was a big one of course, so it's something worth celebrating. MA:
I appreciate that. It's significant. Yes, indeed. 75. I'm a young boy. AAJ:
It certainly seems like the music and the people you play with help keep you young. It makes so much of a difference when you enjoy what you're doing, doesn't it? MA:
Yes. I wish this on every human being, that they could end up doing something that they enjoy. You have a few pitfalls along the way, but it's a wonderful thing. I really just fell into something by mistake. Playing music and getting paid for it? I couldn't believe it. AAJ:
Playing behind Frank Sinatra
was certainly a fortunate break. Was that your first truly big gig? MA:
All the way back in my hometown, Kingston, Jamaica, all the older musicians made me feel welcome. The next thing, I'm playing along with guys ten, twenty years older than me. That started from my early teens. Then I came to America and it was the same kind of thing. They put me into some club and the guy wanted to book me, and I started getting jobs around Miami
. Then one night Sinatra walked into the club with some friends, and I must have been hitting it pretty good. Rockin' the joint, as they say. So I met Sinatra, and he put a nice word in and said "we gotta get you to New York City
and play at my friend's club, Jilly's." And I met Jilly [Rizzo] and his wife and friends, and one thing led to another. There I am playing in this hot spot called Jilly's in 1963. That's how I got to America. I didn't come here for music school. I never went to music school. I'm one of those guys where everything was good fortune. Or as some of us like to say, blessings. AAJ:
It's funny. You don't know what's going to come from seemingly little things... MA:
You're right. Meeting Frank Sinatra was more than a little thing. I was 18 when I met him. I was on my way up after that. AAJ:
And you've tended to do the same kind of thing yourselfyou like to play with new and young musicians too. MA:
That's kind of what happened. Somebody I admire and respected a lot talked to me almost like I was an older brother, and it was none other than Ray Brown
, who invited me to join him and Milt Jackson
on a job in 1969 at Shelly's Manne-Hole. He saw that I was playing here and playing there. I'd already made about eight albums. "You know, you should try playing with some younger guys," he said to me. So I would play with these different guys, all the great bass players, 'cause I was already in that world and I knew what to do. I was leading the troops, if you know what I mean. I always had my own combo. I wasn't playing in somebody else's band or anything. I would get a gig and hire whoever it would be. In New York I had engaged all these greatest bass players and drummers. So many of themRon Carter
came to play with me, Roy Haynes
came to play with me, Tony Williams
. Just name it. A crew of different musicians. They were older than me, guys ten years older, and they didn't tell me what to do. They were following me
So Ray said, "you should play with some younger guys," and I said "OK." That was when he introduced me to one of these up-and-coming younger bass players named John Clayton
. John was just going to school and he told me about this friend from school, Jeff Hamilton
. And they'd never played with people who hadn't gone to school. I came up with guys playing at functions with their friends, you know. We called it the university of the street corner. Most of our heroes of jazz were salt-of-the-earth guys who picked it up from one another. So, years went by and John stayed in touch with me. He came out of college, and he called at the exact time I was looking for a bassist. That all started with him and from that point on, I realized "hey, I'm playing with these whippersnappers." Since then, I like musicians who are younger. AAJ:
And the beauty of these things is that everyone brings something to the table. The older players can learn from the younger ones just as much as vice versa, if everyone's got open ears... MA:
Amen. It's a bunch of thingsguys with open ears, and also somebody that you can find goodwill with. People who have a certain giving nature with one another, so you want to hang with them and tell stories and jokes and all that. That all goes onto the bandstand. If someone's a weird personality, you can get something weird from him or her. But I was always fortunate to have good guys, wonderful people, people of goodwill. If I run into kind of a grumpy person, I say "man, I gotta run away from this." Since I was a kid, I've always wanted to keep that positive energy.
I never really responded well to the stern kind of people who are serious. Being serious about the music is one thing, but I mean people who are serious about themselves
. You should have a lightheartedness going about it. I was always like that. I was always told from the very beginning that I brought a sense of upliftment to people. That's just my nature. When I found music at an early age, there were the old-time guys in Jamaica playing the folk music, colorful music with some raunchy colored folk lyrics that tourists would love to hear when they came. I always just loved it. That was just my way of doing things.
To cap it off, I saw the number one in the world who did that, Louis Armstrong
. He came to Jamaica and I saw the concert. There was all that sense of joy. When I hit a note on the piano, I'm putting a smile on that note and that note smiles back at me. Next thing, it becomes a symphony of enjoyment. That's what happens most nights when I play these days, certainly. I'm serious about it, but I connect to what makes me and other people feel good. Nat "King" Cole
when he played the piano, and Erroll Garner
. That was pure sunshine. Those guys were my heroes, you know? And I still go for that. I can't define it so much, but it's some kind of beauty, like painting a beautiful picturewhen I play, I'm trying to paint a picture. I see the mountain and the river and the, you know, the landscape. A beautiful lady standing there, whatever it iskind of making a dream come to life in a song.