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If I’m not wrong, you got into music
by accident, is that right?
TB: Well, I was a music-collector but I
felt like I wanted to be involved rather than being sort of an observer
and some freak was selling a saxophone for a hundred bucks, so I bought
it just to see what happened. And it happened to be an alto. So it’s
kind of by accident. I used to sit in my room and I put some Paroah
Sanders record called Thembi. This was the one I put on and just
jam with (laughs).
That’s kind of how I started and then
gradually I ended up moving to New York and I started taking lessons. I
got pretty serious about it. I took a few lessons with Anthony Braxton
and then I started studying with Julius Hemphill. He was really helpful,
he was a really good model because he wrote a lot of music. We lived
together and we used to see each other a lot and I used to watch him
work. I thought that the way he worked was the way everyone worked. So I
used to write music, even though I didn’t know what I was doing, just
because I saw him do it.
I didn’t know you had been studying
with Braxton…
TB: Well, I took three lessons with
Braxton and I was a big fan of his but the influence of the lessons wasn’t
really much. The influence was more from his music and from his
attitude, his sort of adventurousness. I was attracted to the kind of
music I didn’t really understand. When I was a kid I listened to a lot
of R&B and normal stuff and gradually I got into this weird stuff
because I liked the fact that I couldn’t really follow it. It made me
listen to it over and over again so I could figure it out or start to
like it in a way.
Do you think it’s easier for a
musician than for a mere follower to understand it?
TB: Yes, except that I wasn’t trying
to understand it intellectualy. I was really just trying to like it, so
I thought: "Well, someone’s gonna make a record, so it’s gotta
be good" (laughs). So I played it until I liked it
basically. At a certain point I didn’t buy records that I’d heard
before, I only bought things I’d never heard, because I really liked
that experience of going home and putting it on for the first time and
be surprised.
This was before I was a musician and
then once I started playing, I stopped listening to the kind of music I
was trying to play. I feel when I’m trying to write or play I almost
don’t want too much information in terms of things that are kind of
similar. I start remembering and then it becomes harder to be yourself.
So it’s kind of a strange way I had to stop listening to the things I
liked (laughs). Now I really listen to almost anything that isn’t
really relevant to what I do directly, so I don’t feed myself up with
all this stuff. Guys like Henry Threadgill. I almost avoid listening to
them because they’re so interesting it starts seeping into my
consciousness too much.
I read an interview in which you
defined yourself as a "control freak"…
TB: I changed since that! (laughs)
No longer a control freak! (laughs)
Where I really wanted to go is Screwgun
and your motivations to start your own label…
TB: Well, in that aspect I am, because
I really like owning my music and I like having control over how it’s
presented. Over the years, I was kind of disappointed and most of the
labels I worked with, the way they follow through it just isn’t as
thorough as I would do it. To sell this kind of records you really have
to be passionate and I think it’s possible to sell this kind of stuff.
I always run into these people who don’t have the same kind of passion
I do about the music. To me, marketing is conveying your enthusiasm to
the consumer. I’ve run into these problems where is this sort of
pervasive pessimism and it’s usually from people who don’t like
music and don’t go to many concerts. I think if you came out on tour
with us you would see a completely different side of the so-called music
business. That’s a very positive side. There’s a lot of audience and
they’re quite enthusiastic about music. So better than just beating my
head against the wall, I decided to put out my own records. It’s
worked out really well. It takes up a lot of time, but I enjoy the whole
packaging and being able to own it myself.
But running your own label doesn’t
prevent you from focusing on playing or composing at some points?
TB: Sometimes it does, but in the other
hand, if I didn’t do that… You know that my whole JMT catalogue went
out of print. My Columbia records went out of print. So all my records
are invisible. The other side of this is you make all of these records
you’re proud of and then they just don’t exist, which is much worse
than having to spend a little time working on the label.
What happened exactly with JMT?
TB: They just gave up. Like everybody,
he got tired. In my opinion, he thought it was kind of distasteful to
market the music. He had a certain responsibility to try to sell the
records and that requires a lot of patience and a very positive
attitude. You can’t be complaining all the time about the record
business. And also I think he wanted to be an auteur, a little bit more
involved in the ideas and the concepts. What was disappointing to me was
I never had a chance to get the music back. He sold it to this Japanese
company and they don’t give a shit. So that was what’s very
disappointing to me because we were very good friends. I can understand
changing your ideas but I can’t understand, after such a strong
relationship, to just let the music over to somebody else. I really
trusted him and I had made ten records with him. I was really proud of
those records and now they’re being reissued but again it’s really a
sloppy job, I think. I was trying to get the tapes back from Japan,
since it’s my music and I should be able to do that.
I thought that these reissues might be
satisfying to you…
TB: In my opinion, they totally
destroyed the covers. They’ve got this really stupid-looking… I don’t
know if you’ve seen them…
Yes, I have.
TB: I don’t understand why these
beautiful covers aren’t on the front. This doesn’t really make much
sense to me. I’m glad they’re coming back out at least, but I’d be
surprised if they don’t disappear again.
Well, I think that Winter &
Winter is doing pretty well.
TB: For me it would have been nicer if
I had bought them back and put out a box-set of everything and make a
very special presentation.
Talking about record companies, I’ve
heard some lengthy discussions about piracy lately. As a label-owner and
musician, how do you think it’s affecting small companies and artists?
TB: It’s a complicated question. I’m
not sure if piracy is any worse than what happens legally when you make
a record for somebody, because you end up being ripped-off anyway. To
see the record labels complaining about piracy is pretty funny. I haven’t
dealt with any but I’ve really been particularly honest in terms of
the accounting, but if they just wanna control it, like all this stuff
about Napster and all that shit, I’d love to see how these major
labels are actually paying royalties. I’m sure they’re stealing
money. And in terms of cd-r’s, I like to think that the way I present
the cds, hopefully people are gonna want the package. It’s not just a
piece of plastic with the cd on it. There’s something a little bit
more to it. In fact, I’m trying to make things interesting enough so
people are not gonna want bootlegs. But again, the machines that do this
stuff were kind of created by these corporations (laughs). It’s
kind of humorous in a way. I guess the big rock starts are complaining
but me I don’t give a shit. In most of the gigs, people are bringing
these little portable minidisc players. There’s like five people
recording it every night and they end up on these trading lists.
Let’s talk about music itself. How
was the "Open, Coma" project with the Copenhagen Art Ensemble
forged?
TB: I was playing in Denmark with the
trio and met the people who are involved in that big band. They asked me
if I wanted to do something, a comission, write a piece for them and I
said "Yes, sure". Then I kind of forgot about it and a couple
of years later they got the money to do it so I got these pieces
together and we did some concerts. I enjoyed it quite a bit. Then I
proposed doing it again but bringing Marc Ducret and Herb [Robertson]
with me. The radio recorded it and it came out good enough, so I decided
to put it out.
Are you still working with Big Satan?
TB: We haven’t done anything in a
while. I think we’ll probably do a record in June. But as far as
touring, we haven’t done it. I’m doing a tour with the Science
Friction band in the spring and I’m sort of concentrating on that.
I see some connection between
"Science Friction" and Big Satan, but perhaps the former is
more straighforward.
TB: The connection is Marc and Tom but
I’ve been doing a trio with Craig [Taborn] and Tom [Rainey] for quite
a few years and I just like playing with Marc. I think the music has
changed quite a bit. Big Satan played Marc’s music as well. I think
the nature of the music is a little bit different harmonically. It’s a
different thing, specially playing with Craig. I think he’s pretty
unique, it’s like having two trios in the same band.
Has the inclusion of the keyboard
changed your compositional approach in some way?
TB: Yes. I tend to write on the
keyboard and I write for the keyboard. He’s an exceptional musican. I
don’t really know anybody who plays like him. He really doesn’t play
styles, he really plays the music that’s being played in the moment
and he can pretty much do anything. He’s got a great sensibility, the
way he listens and his incredible sense of groove. And the way he and
Tom play together is pretty incredible. You have to hear it live to get
a sense of all the different things. Records tend to be a little more
focused because of the time amount. I try not to control things too much
with these guys because they’re great improvisers.
What can you tell us about your latest
record, "The Sevens"?
TB: I’m really pleased. That record
was one of the hardest ones for me to make and I’m really happy with
it. I wrote the music a couple of years ago when I was working with the
saxophone quartet and I never really thought I was gonna be able to
record it. At the last minute, we decided that Marc was going to play
acoustic guitar instead of electric and it really changed the sound of
the whole thing. Then I wrote a couple of solo pieces for Marc to play
on acoustic guitar and David Torn did some remixes. It was supposed to
be a composition record. I added the pieces with Torn because I guess I
wanted to give up some control over the music and, since I enjoyed so
much collaborating with him in the studio, I basically gave him the
recorded source material and just described very loosely what I wanted.
It was like letting somebody improvise on your music but with the
studio. I wanted to influence the record but I didn’t want it all to
be so serious and classical – in the best sense of the word- because I
don’t really consider myself a classical composer. I wanted there to
be some humor and a variety of things to put the composed stuff in a
different light. So I surrounded the dance pieces, they sound different
to me, even though I’ve heard them a milllion times. Just because of
what surrounds them it really changes my perception of the music. The
way it flows, I really see that record as one piece. In the last couple
of years, with Science Friction and this one, I’m really trying to go
back to making studio records and really thinking about their lasting
value and not just documenting us playing, but actually making something
that when you put it you actually wanna hear it all the way to the end,
feel like you have to. I really wanted to be compelling enough that you
have to listen to the whole thing to really grasp it.
This time you haven’t used a rhythm
section. You have worked with excellent rhythm sections (Jim Black Tom
Rainey, Michael Formanek, Mark Helias, Joey Baron, …) but you don’t
seem to be good friends with the solo role in your music but rather with
a more collective sound, always leaving space for the musicians to
improvise but avoiding "leading roles".
TB: Yes, definitely. I like the idea of
people interacting and not being forced to play certain roles. I don’t
really like for the rhythm section to be stuck playing like a rhythm
section. That’s one of the reasons I’m not using the bass with that
band. I think it kind of liberates Tom and also it creates some more
collective atmosphere, because sonically, there’s a space there that
you don’t have to fill. Maybe it causes the music to be less
idiomatic. You’re less likely to follow certain patterns that you
might follow with the bass player. Specially for the drummers, there’s
a lot more options. I’m really trying to make it sound like chamber
music and not a rhythm section supporting a soloist. Have you heard Science
Friction?
Yes, and I love it. It just sounds so
solid and rhythmic without those leading roles, just as happened with
Bloodcount, for instance.
TB: Yes, it’s nice when you don’t know what to
expect, when you’re listening to something and you don’t know who’s
gonna solo or if it’s gonna be a solo or what is gonna happen during
the solo. That’s kind of the way it is live, we usually don’t know
what’s going to happen. So there’s a certain amount of failure on
ocassion just because we don’t plan it, but in a way that’s part of
the process. A certain amount of tension it’s good for the band.
Any current or future projects?
TB: Well, I’m doing a thing in
England next fall, which is a comission and a tour with the Science
Friction band with Torn and a saxophone quartet as well. I think we’re
doing six concerts.
No touring dates in Spain I assume…
TB: Well, I love Barcelona. I had some great food last
time!
More information about Tim Berne's Records:
Screwgun Records. Mr. Berne's discography: http://www.screwgunrecords.com
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