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No Borders For Vasti |
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“I don’t smoke crack, I don’t get high, I ain’t into sports. Music is what I do. The core of it is what I got from my grandmother and my grandfather.”
Sitting on the couch of his studio in Hattiesburg, fifth-generation Mississippi
musician and A-list guitarist Vasti Jackson is discussing the main impetus behind
his life-long, world-wide journey in the blues.
“
Some people can say, well, Lightnin’ Hopkins, but I say Sammy
Jackson, ’cause
that’s my reference point. My grandfather is my reference point.”
Vasti heard his grandfather’s gritty blues and the gentler gospel of his
grandmother, Mary, all through his childhood in McComb, Mississippi. His grandparents’ individual
musical leanings reflected their divergent lifestyles. Sammy Jackson was
a hard-living Delta bluesman with a taste for worldly pleasures while Mary,
still alive and
writing songs at 85, is dignified and devout. Their respective approaches
to music were not only shaped by their values systems, by also by cultural
differences.
Sammy was short and dark-skinned, Mary was tall and fair, partly of Irish
descent.
“
She of course fell more into the gospel and spiritual aspect of the music,” recalls
Vasti. “Because of her heritage it always had this waltz-like thing
where when he played it was much more groove and just intense. Her thing
was almost
like an Irish jig, her phrasingº So I had that in my family. I always
had that combination of Europe and Africa.”
Vasti, whose name means to will or to command in Sanskrit, also counts
African-Americans of Arabic descent, Native Americans and even a Jewish
rabbi amongst his blood
relatives. The breadth of his bloodline is matched by the wide spectrum
of music that he has been called upon to play since his late teens. At
45, he
has worked
in the top tier of the blues world for over two decades. He has toured
or recorded with B.B. King, Little Milton, Bobby
Bland, Katie Webster,
Latimore,
Philip
Bailey, C.J. Chenier and Cassandra Wilson and has acted as bandleader
or musical director
for Johnnie Taylor, Bobby Rush, and Z.Z.
Hill. He has played on and produced
more recording sessions than he can possibly recall. Recently he helped
produce Henry Butler’s Homeland CD and has been appearing frequently in New Orleans
as a member of Butler’s band.
Jackson’s professional career began at age 14 in south Mississippi
juke joints playing with Big Moody and the Royals. Coming from such a
musical family,
he had a good ear and natural understanding of music, but a tough lesson
at age 15 would show him that raw talent would only take him so far.
A relative arranged for Jackson to play for the stage band director at
McComb High School. When he plugged in the band director gave him a chord
chart.
He didn’t even know the names of chords, let alone how to read
a chart. The band director then counted off a jazz tune with more complex
chord changes
than
Jackson could decipher on the fly.
“ After about 20 seconds he stopped the band, about 19 or 20 musicians,
and told me to unplug my guitar and not to come back and play for
him until I could read
music.”
Humiliated but not discouraged, Jackson threw himself into the formal
study of music, learning not only to read, but to transcribe, transpose
and arrange
music.
He would eventually attend college on a percussion scholarship,
and his wide range of skills would help open the doors to a very productive
career
with
Malaco Records as a musician, arranger, and producer before he
was
20.
Along the way Jackson would often sing to open shows for the artists
he worked for. With much prodding from the legendary, but vastly
under-rewarded, guitarist
Wayne Bennett, as well as pianist Katie Webster, Jackson released
a solo album, Vas-Tie Jackson. His current, self-produced release,
No
Borders
to the Blues lives up to its title by touching on many facets of music. It’s
all over the map stylistically, and often lyrically ambitious.
“
I think that’s one of the things that are lacking in modern blues writing,” asserts
Jackson. “Stories, subject matter, you know what I mean?”
The subject matter of the songs on No Borders to the Blues is as varied as the musical approach Jackson applies to make
his
statement.
Some
of the songs
seem
to present contradictory messages, such as the biting political
critique of “Monkey
Dii Doo” and the overtly patriotic “America, Proud and Strong.” While
some might see the sentiments of each of these songs as in
conflict with one another, Jackson sees them as two sides of
his personal
feelings.
“
When I did that song [‘America, Proud and Strong’], some people said ‘Don’t
put it on this record.’ Maybe they thought the song was right wing, but
it’s not. I’m glad to be an American and I love this country. It’s
like your kids. Do I like everything about America one hundred percent? No, but
I don’t like everything my sons do either. Am I going
to cast my sons away? No.”
Jackson’s feelings about the importance of music,
and the difference between the art of making music and
the business
of
making a living,
are as strong as
the conviction behind his lyrics.
“
Whatever you pay me I’m going to work harder than what the dollar is,” he
asserts, “because I don’t equate music with money. I mean, there’s
business and money and I have to survive, but whether it’s a hundred dollars
or a thousand dollars, I’m not going to play less. That’s
not gonna happen because music is too important, too
much of a gift to me.”
That being said, Jackson’s spirit of giving doesn’t mean he’s
willing to lay down and be a blow-up doll for the powers that be. When his performance
of an original song made the final cut of Martin
Scorsese’s
documentary series The Blues, Jackson held his ground
when he was offered barely
any compensation for his original work.
“
We fought like hell over the publishing and all that with Scorsese,” says
Jackson with a hint of disbelief. “I didn’t give it up. I got mechanicals.
I fought like a fucking dog, man. They wanted not only publishing but writer’s
for all the original stuff, they wanted total ownership.
It was like the release from hell. I was amazed.
“
But still in all, all of this is a blessing. I think once we deal with the art,
then we deal with the business. Those are two separate things. I believe that
in all things if you don’t have something worth stealing you don’t
have anything.”
With his youngest son’s high school graduation
(both of his sons are musicians, as is his
cousin, who is a widely
respected
classical
cellist),
and the resulting
relaxation of his child-rearing responsibilities,
Jackson is able to spend more time playing
in New Orleans.
“
New Orleans affords me the opportunity to speak with a broader voice. If I want
to stretch the boundaries harmonically, within a blues form or structure, the
audiencesºtheir ear is a little more receptive to that, which is great. Whereas
in Mississippi it’s based more on the story and a consistent groove and
feel that actually is better served with that underlying or even overt gospel
thing. I’m very conscious here [in Mississippi] of being very lyrical with
solos. I can be lyrical in New Orleans, but when you’re playing with people
like Henry Butler, then it’s a different language, and I love it. I’m
inspired by the great musicians in New
Orleans.
“
It was so good to reconnect with Little Freddie King, my mother’s first
cousin. When I hear Freddie I hear
my grandfather. There are vocal phrases that sound like my grandmother when
Freddie
sings, and
there
are
things that he plays
on the guitar that are my grandfather.”
In talking to Jackson about his music,
it becomes obvious that his grandmother
has
always been
a guiding force
in his life,
musically and personally.
This naturally brings up the question
of how she, as a pious and religious
woman,
has reacted
to his choice to live the blues life.
“
My grandmother would joke about it actually”, says Jackson, smiling. “Because
my grandmother is tall and she always wished I would be taller. So she’s
very thankful that God graced me with the gift to do music because it meant I
didn’t have to work manual labor.”
Vasti Jackson will perform at the Blue
Nile on Thursday, June 2, and at the
Old Point
Bar on
Monday, June
13.
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