Music constantly surprises me with its paradoxes and contradictions. I have spent my life pursuing it—and conversely—trying to get out of its way. I take a human voice approach to the bass, and my playing is a constant attempt to produce the voice I hear in my head.
I used to think it was about the note choices, but it's really about the intervals, the spacing between the notes. You’re always playing the same notes. It’s the spaces between the notes—both rhythmically, across time; and harmonically, across distance—that determine the music.
As a bassist, my job is to inspire, to lay a foundation that encourages the soloists to freely explore. As a composer, I strive to write music that gives a soloist a springboard for his/her own voice. As a producer, my goal is to provide the musicians with an environment conducive to their best performance.
It helps to have a certain degree of detachment, as if I'm behind the camera and also in the scene I'm photographing. The more detached I am, the more information I take in. I'm not thinking of what notes or patterns I'm going to play; instead, I'm comprehending the whole ensemble. It's like reading the score before it gets written.
You have to think in the language of music. If you have to translate, it takes too much time.
I spend my whole life trying to get out of the way of the music. It's not about me; it's about the music. I want the listener to fill in the blanks.
I want to speak from my heart rather than my ego, because the bottom line is, music is from the heart. Everything else is an attempt to explain that, so everything else falls short.
