Discovering the Blues

Bay area BAssist and SFJAZZ Director of education cory combs tells the story of how he "got" the blues

The blues was my open door to jazz.  The rock-style blues playing of Bo Diddley, Sonny Boy Williamson, and Howlin’ Wolf was a natural bridge from my rock roots to soulful jazz musicians like Cannonball Adderley, Jimmy Smith, and even Ornette Coleman.

As a young bass student in Wichita, Kansas, I was encouraged to understand the blues, both as played by the blues masters, and as interpreted by jazz legends.  In the ‘70s and ‘80s, Wichita was a stopping point for most of the best touring jazz bands.  With a thriving three-day jazz festival and great jazz department at Wichita State University, I had the unique opportunity to hang out with, listen to, and learn from some true legends.  Backstage, the Count Basie touring band talked to me about swing and feel.  Bassist/composer John Clayton showed me how to dig in and pluck the bass strings like I meant it. I was even ignored by one of the greatest living guitarists when I said I admired his work. It was a real jazz education.

Jazz drummer Matt Wilson was a student at Wichita State.  Conveniently, my father was his percussion teacher, so I had immediate access to Matt and his already deep musical knowledge. While tailing him around campus—a young high schooler trying to soak in every last bit of information—he would say things like, “Man, playing ballads is much harder than playing fast.” When he asked if I’d checked out Charlie Mingus and I said no, he shook his head and said “Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus.  Mingus Ah Um.  The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady.” I bought the trio of classic Mingus records the next day, straining to absorb the blues-soaked sounds of the Mingus band.

I sat in with Matt and his many bands as many times as I could, often sneaking into over 21 clubs with Matt, who promised any doorman I was just there to play. One Saturday night at My Brother’s Place—a Wichita club, not the apartment of a relative—I went with Matt to play with his regular blues band.  He called me up on stage and called a blues. A slow blues.  One of those down-home, feelin’-bad blues tunes soaked in booze, mean ladies, and things never goin’ your way.  Something every 16 year old should hopefully know little about, which was the case with me.  We started the song, and I filled in all the space I could, trying to sound like another of my recent discoveries, Jaco Pastorious.  Matt quickly got my attention. 
           
“Cory,” Matt said. “Just watch my cymbal and only play when I play.”

He stripped down his groove to a minimum—a quarter note on every beat. No fills, no flash, and a feel that was in the groove, and completely swinging. I tried to match it, but I kept playing my notes too quickly, landing what felt like seconds before Matt did.

Eventually I matched his feel.  Slow.  Simple.  We stayed there the whole time as the other musicians soloed over the top of our framework.  At the end, Matt shook my hand and I got pats on the back from the band when I left the stage.  All for not following my instincts.  All for restraining my adolescent need to play fast, flashy and rushed.

It would be a neat, yet absurd, ending to say I’m now a master of the blues; that I took what Matt showed me that night and never rushed or played too busy again.  It’s not the case.  I still practice the blues slowly, trying to stay in the deep, deceptively simple groove that the music deserves.  And I’m not alone. All the musicians I talk to continually return to the blues to recharge their energy, refresh their chops, or study a new, unexplored facet of this profound music.

For the Discover Jazz series, we’ll start with the blues.  We’ll talk about the feel, style and sounds that make the song form so long lasting, influential and recognizable.  Understanding jazz starts with understanding the blues, and while we can’t cover everything in two hours, by the end, you’ll be able to hear a 12-bar blues, know what call and response means, be able to sing a blues scale and even know the basics of composing a blues of your own.  The series will continue, stopping on all the important jazz landmarks – history, musicians, key recordings, terminology, and much more.

I invite you to join us for the entire series, or take a class or two.  We’ll listen to a lot of great music, watch some classic video clips, and spend time talking about America’s twin yet distinct musical styles, the blues and jazz.