Wood and strings

Bassist Christian McBride is hitting all the right notes

by Jim Macnie

"Hey, are you kidding? I put myself in this position to get my butt kicked." Singer-pianist Diana Krall is talking about the rigors of keeping up with extraordinary instrumentalists. Though she's an adept improviser herself, she knows jazz is a music of risks, and that you learn more when you play with those a notch or two above you. "I look around and see someone like Christian McBride throwing bass lines at me and I know it's sink or swim," she quips. "He's one of the greats."

Krall's right about that. The 26-year-old bassist is a virtuoso. His intonation is exquisite, his sense of rhythm buoyant. When he reaches for a musical idea, regardless of complexity, he squeezes it hard. Right before Christmas I caught him playing with Joshua Redman and the great young drummer Brian Blade. As their extrapolations began to head toward the wild blue yonder, it was McBride's deep sense of construction that held the action together. The lines of each were discrete, but the overall rapport was what ultimately distinguished the date.

McBride is also known for his sumptuous tone. The more intimate the setting, the easier it is to grasp just how rich his instrument's timbres can be. His bass is the first sound you hear on Krall's Love Scenes, guiding listeners into the cozy recital with a stately and sporty welcome. Fingerpainting (Verve) finds him examining the music of Herbie Hancock, flanked by guitarist Mark Whitfield and trumpeter Nicholas Payton. Whitfield is absent on "Dolphin Dance," and the pas de deux by McBride and Payton becomes a pageant of sensual tones. The textural richness of the bassist's wood and strings can be just as provocative as the lines he plays. A combination of these talents has made the Philly native one of the era's most ubiquitous modern jazz musicians. He has toured with Chick Corea, Freddie Hubbard and several other vets, and his work schedule over the last few years has been intense enough to warrant his designation as a seasoned pro.

McBride has just cut his third disc for Verve as a leader. This time around, he took his longstanding unit of pianist Charles Craig, saxophonist Tim Warfield and drummer Gregory Hutchinson to the studio. None of them are marquee names, but each, especially Hutchinson, is a killer on his instrument. These players will take the stage at the Greenwich Odeum on Saturday.

Q: You take on special projects with high visibility players all the time. But this quartet has been your working band for awhile now. What's the advantage of a steady lineup?

A: One of the yardsticks by which bandleaders are measured is selecting personnel. Now that I have some experience as a boss, I realize it's too easy to choose players who just try to get through the gig. The guys in my quartet push me more than I ever suspected they would -- they actually wipe me out some nights. When that happens I realize I've gotta come back stronger the next time. It makes for really inspiring music. We're real tight, but to be honest, even though I've had the same band for awhile, there have been breaks, like you say. Summers are spent with other projects like Chick Corea's tribute to Bud Powell. Ultimately, that puts our own development on hold. But I find the superstar thing gets old rather quickly. Artists often go for the name value, but audiences don't always know names anyway; they go for the music. "What's it sound like? Is it really happening?"

There's a need for working bands these days. Remember, the albums we all claim to be the most influential were made by bands. Kind of Blue -- that was Miles' band doing that. A Love Supreme -- it was Coltrane's band; they played every night. This session we just cut is coming out in August, and it's the most organic, cohesive record I've made so far. That's because we're a band.

Q: Does interpreting the music of artists like Powell and Hancock help you better understand the mechanics of their art? Or is a tune just a tune -- you take it where you want once you get going?

A: With that Bud Powell tribute band, a tune was never a tune. We didn't want to stick to any routines, so we never played any song the same way twice. I don't think we were necessarily into the thing of examining Bud's brain. We knew where he was coming from at the start. Although I'll say that I never actually played those particular Bud pieces growing up. "Bud's Bounce," maybe, which is a standard. But we were doing "Tempest Fugit" and those kind of things, and playing them did make me think, "Wow, this cat was way ahead." As for Herbie's stuff, Nicholas Payton, Mark Whitfield and I couldn't stay too close to the originals even if we wanted to, because our instrumentation was so different. We moved away from it by default.

Q: Do Bud and Herbie seem like they speak two separate vernaculars to you?

A: For me, Herbie and Bud are on the same tree. Herbie is an extension of Bud; he championed harmony and deep musicianship. But listen to Bud's "Glass Enclosure." If that had been recorded in the '60s it would have been considered fresh. We think of modern jazz in terms of Herbie, Wayne Shorter, McCoy Tyner. But "Glass Enclosure" ranks up there with anything modern. For me, Bud and Herbie are tight.

Q: Is jazz the music of introverts or extroverts?

A: Oh . . . a little of both really, and that's what makes it beautiful. Your average Joe walking down the street can get into jazz, and the person who analyzes it note for note can too.

Q: Which one are you?

A: Both. I'm a Gemini. I have moments where I'm completely introverted, checking things out for myself, calculating. And then there are times when I go for it.

Q: Sometimes your bass lines are so quick it's like you're playing a ukulele. Have you always had virtuosic facility?

A: I know this may sound like a cheesy answer, but I really don't think that I'm at a level where I'm really happening like I could. I'm still striving toward a place where I can play anything I want to play. Like a Joe Henderson, say. He's the ultimate at technical command on the instrument. But to give you some insight, starting on the electric bass may have helped. I began that at eight years old. So by the time I took lessons on the acoustic bass at 11, I was too young to realize what I was getting myself into, so to speak. So I didn't let the size of the instrument psyche me out. Acoustic bass is just an oversized electric -- that was my approach. If I was to start playing acoustic bass now after dealing with the electric for 16 years, I'd be more intimidated. My naiveté helped me in a way.

Q: You've just been out for a couple of months with Brian Blade and Josh Redman in a trio. What are the risks of playing without a piano? Do audiences realize the novelty of the situation?

A: I've come to the realization that no one should underestimate the general audience. Some musicians take an audience for granted. They think, "Well, they're not into such and such, so if we do this, they won't notice." That may be true to a certain extent, but I find the general audience is fairly tuned in. So if you're not doing something on stage, they may not pinpoint what's missing, but they know something is. If an average guy sees a pianoless trio, and the band isn't strong enough, the weakness is obvious. Especially if the bass player is weak, because all the harmonic movement and responsibility falls on the bass player in that situation. It would be real noticeable. It took me a moment to get used to my role in that trio because I'm usually playing with pianos. I'm used to working with their moves and sound and, versatile or not, I had to rethink some things about that trio role. We weren't just playing easy blues pieces; we had some wild compositions, with time changes and stuff. It was a really good workout for me.

Q: When you hit the scene a few years ago, you were one of the few young bass players acting as a bandleader. Was that an uphill battle?

A: Not really. I didn't experience that too much. Maybe because I held off from being a leader for awhile. I got my first offer to make a record in 1992, and waited a bit. I wanted to establish myself as a player. Not as a commercial move, but musical. Ultimately it helped commercially as well. Because when my first album came out, there was some speculation about when I was going to do a record. People were interested. But bass-wise, I look at someone like Ray Brown or especially Charlie Haden, who's very successful as a bandleader. That bass thing isn't much of a factor. Although it does depend on who the bass player is, I guess.

Q: There's a stock notion of the young jazz musicians of toeing the line esthetically: all acoustic, swing-oriented. But you like to strap on an electric bass and work some grooves as well. You've done Stevie Wonder's "You've Got It Bad, Girl." Why is that important to you? Have any of your associates ever taken you to task about it?

A: Of course. But for me, electric bass is my first instrument. So it's no big deal. Most guys my age play both. Maybe not in public, but they play both. I did an interview one time, and it came out saying, "Christian McBride is an acoustic purist." And that's not right by any means. So now that I have my own band and calling my own shots, I work in the electric a bit. I don't necessarily want to be like Stanley Clarke, where his main axe is electric. My feelings for the acoustic are strong -- I don't want to ever put mama down. I've worked too hard to get where I am on the thing.

Q: You're known as a player more than composer. How do you work on your writing skills? Any certain regimen to it?

A: There's no real formula. But one great revelation for me was getting to work with Wayne Shorter over the Christmas holiday. Composing-wise, most jazz musicians hold him in the highest regard. And for me to actually have a chance to watch him write was mind-blowing. Me? Most of the time I sit on the piano and noodle around, sketch down a bit of a theme. And when I saw Wayne do something quite similar I remember thinking, "Well, we're not too far off." He'd be at the piano, playing a chord, and say, "Hmmm, that's not right." Then another chord, "Yeah, maybe." So even he goes through that process. But I have no particular formula. Ideas come from all over.

Christian McBride will perform at the Greenwich Odeum on Saturday at 8 p.m. Call 885-9119.