On the morning I was to talk to tenor saxophonist Don Braden, he didnít
answer the phone. I called his manager and she mildly panicked. Thatís
not like him, she said, before trying to reach him herself.
About 45 minutes later, Braden called me back and apologized for doing
something that seldom happens.
He had slept.
It was only four hours worth, but it was sleep. He explained that he
had jammed in a Manhattan club until 3 a.m. and then had driven to his
East Orange, N.J., home to work on mastering some recent sessions in
his digital studio. He had fallen asleep sometime around 7 a.m.
I would never have guessed that he was tired if he had not told me.
Braden is pure, unbridled energy, and his words rush along faster than
Coltraneís sheets of sound. He set up for a recording session
while he talked on a speaker phone, punched a computer keyboard and
banged around the studio. Like all great musicians, he didnít
miss a beat. I sensed that he has a brain well-equipped for overloads.
But Braden, 37, doesnít blow your brains out with volume or reckless
intensity. His jazz is sweet and soulful, tightly delivered and instantly
communicative. While completing his eleventh album, Braden continues
his career as performer, composer, arranger and teacher.
Bradenís resume includes some of jazz's greatest contemporary
names. It therefore makes sense that he had some critical brickbats
to throw at Ken Burnsí documentary, "Jazz." Although
Braden enjoyed the first three episodes, he wondered why the filmmaker
didnít feature more living jazz legends in the rest of the film.
"I would say thatís a pretty serious flaw," Braden
said. "Of course, they may have been so incendiary, they may have
ended up on the cutting room floor."
As a child in Louisville, Ken., Braden's early attraction to music gravitated
more to Isaac Hayes, Michael Jackson and pop music than jazz icons.
However, Braden, the first musician in his family, started playing tenor
sax in his middle school and joined his first professional band two
years later. He was chosen as first chair for the McDonald's All-American
High School Jazz Band and All-American High School Marching Band and
received an award from Yamaha Instruments.
Braden began developing himself as a composer while a computer and engineering
student at Harvard University, performing regularly in the Boston and
Cambridge area and composing pieces for Harvard-based dance, film and
music projects.
As most serious professional jazz musicians do at some point in their
lives, Braden took his talent to New York City, the jazz mecca of the
world.
His early gigs included a stint with scat singer Betty Carter (playing
on her Grammy Award-winning album, "Look What I Got"), and
in a burst of youthful confidence, Braden simply picked up the phone
and requested the gig that would be his most important one yet.
Braden called up trumpeter and neo-jazz traditionalist Wynton Mar-salis,
introduced himself and asked for a job. His gift of gab worked on Marsalis,
who had been searching for a new band and direction. Braden describes
Marsalis as "definitely a taskmaster," but ìnot emotional
and crazy like some bandleaders are.î Marsalis was ìjust
a catî and fun to hang out with, Braden recalls.
After his work with Marsalis, Braden toured extensively with drummers
Tony Williams and Roy Haynes and as a member of trumpeter Freddie Hubbardís
quintet. His gigs since 1991 have included the Mingus Big band, trombonist
J. J. Johnson, the Dizzy Gillespie AllStars and the Carnegie Hall Jazz
Band.
Bradenís recent projects as bandleader have included all star
quartets and octets. His latest CD on the Double-Time jazz label, "Don
Braden Presents the Contemporary Standards Ensemble," reflects
Bradenís secret pop obsession, and puts pop standards, including
a slow burning version of Roberta Flack's "Feel Like Makin' Love,"
into jazz arrangements.
New York, according to Braden, offers jazz musicians plenty of work
except for two mediums ó television and movies. But that didnít
stop Braden from hooking up with a very famous actor who is also no
slouch of a musician.
Braden spent four years as co-music supervisor and composer for Bill
Cosbyís sitcom, ìCosby,î and he co-wrote the theme
song for Cosbyís cartoon series, ìLittle Bill.î
Braden gently scolded Cosby for not practicing more on his music, but
he added that the actor "knows exactly what heís doing and
he's got good instincts."
Those are the words of a true music teacher, and indeed, Braden devotes
much of his schedule to sharing his art. He is currently an adjunct
instructor of saxophone at William Paterson University, Music Director
of the Litchfield Jazz Festival Summer Music School and Music Director
of the New Jersey Performing Arts Center's Jazz for Teens Program. One
look at his Master Class format, which declares that "student's
performances will be critiqued," and one senses that this is not
a class for a student yet to learn a scale.
"I tell ya' man, it's very difficult to improvise if you're a beginner,"
Braden said.
But Braden has knowledge to pass on to students that goes beyond scales
and improvisation. Much of his instruction involves the reality of money,
and according to Braden, it's best to bring up that subject while musicians
are young.
"We try to instill in them a work ethic," Braden said, but
even a dedicated and working musician can dig a deep hole of debt if
investments, contracts, tax management and debt arenít understood.
"I was pretty lucky, actually," he said. "But I've seen
people burn. I've seen people crash and burn. I've seen people suffer
needlessly because they don't have a business sense."
Braden's reputation as a careful and savvy businessman destroys the
myth of the musician who must suffer to develop his art. He receives
e-mails every month from desperate musicians seeking advice on financial
problems.
"Sometimes itís mental," he said. "People think
they have to struggle and itís not necessary."
I couldn't let Braden go without asking him to name his jazz idols and
favorite albums. His main hero is saxophonist Wayne Shorter, who he
respects as a composer and for his work with Miles Davis. He confeses
to a prolonged immersion in Davis' 1969 "Bitches Brew" and
the trumpeter's late 1950s collaborations with Gil Evans, but considers
Davisí 1968 ìFilles de Kilimanjaro,î featuring Shorter,
as his favorite album.
"That one had the serious vibe and color I was seriously digging."
Braden said that the Waynesville gig will feature a rhythm section and
ìnot a lot of complicated stuff. I'll keep it simple so cats
can just relax and swing."
(Rohr teaches at Western Carolina University. He can be reached at
rohr@wcu.edu)