The third part of my extended interview with the legendary Keith Copeland. In this section he talks about playing with different great bassists, with Stan Getz and his turbulent time with Stevie Wonder. Great stories and insights from one of jazz's great drummers.
RG: You played with,
of course, some incredible bass players in your career. Maybe I'll just throw some names at you and
then you can just say what the experience was like playing with them. How it might be different, or what was
special, or whatever. So, Sam Jones?
KC: Sam Jones was probably the most energetic bass player I
have ever played with. His time was
right in the middle, centered. Sometimes
it felt like it was on top, but it was right there. And powerful energy, and great notes, and
wonderful to play with. Never had a
moment to think about trying to hook up with him. He was so strong you just put your hand on
the cymbal and it went automatically where it was supposed to be with the
time. He was a great player. Very special player to play with. Very special feeling. I had been listening to him for years, from
his first records with Cannonball. They
did a record called Nancy and Cannonball that I loved very much, that he played
on.
RG: You played in a
trio with him, with Kenny Barron, right?
KC: Yeah, I made a trio record with him. That was a very fast record. I remember that date. That was just before the Heath Brothers date. We did this record at a studio, on 12th
or 13th Street in the Village, not far from from where the New School
is. And it was real cold, like the
weather you experienced when you went to New York, and Sam was trying to get to
the date from Teaneck and he couldn't get in his car it was so cold. He couldn't get the locks to open up. So Sam was late getting to his own date. So when Sam got there, instead of having six
hours, we only had about four hours. So
there was only time for maybe two takes on each tune, and we did the whole
record real fast. And then, of course,
me being the globetrotter I had to pack my shit up real fast, go outside, hail
a cab, run out to La Guardia, jump on a plane, fly to Washington to meet the
Heath Brothers to play in Blues Alley that same night. I made it, but it was a scuffle. The record came out pretty good.
RG: Yeah, it
did. I must try and get it on a more
reliable format. I have it on a cassette
somewhere, I think. Well, now that
you've mentioned the Heath Brothers...Percy Heath?
KC: Percy Heath was a great bass player, man. Perfect notes, very good time but a little
bit more on the laid back side. Percy
and I couldn't get along so good. Percy
wanted to turn the Heath Brothers into another Modern Jazz Quartet. You know, he had us wearing these...made us
go out and buy suits and shit, and wear these uniforms. He wanted everything very structured and what
I was trying to play with Stanley Cowell and Tony Purrone and Jimmy, who wanted
some energy sometime, I would push and go with them and try to get Percy to go
with me. And Percy wouldn't go with
me. Percy would just stay right where he
wanted to be. He'd just look at me and
sort of growl at me. But I wouldn't pay
no attention to him because I said, 'Man, shit!
I am with these guys. I want to
support them'. And I had been used to
playing with Sam, so I would just ignore him and we had fallings out about
that. 'You too busy, man, you got to
relax'. And he was always trying to give
me some of his best marijuana to slow me down.
He always had some good grass.
Whenever we were on the road, Stanley and Tony would always ride with
Jimmy and they'd put me with Percy, because they knew Percy would be smoking
and that would keep me cool. Slow me
down for the long car rides across Oklahoma and Kansas and shit.
RG: That's a great
story! Ray Drummond?
KC: Ray Drummond is another excellent bass player. Same tradition as Sam Jones. Same feeling.
Same good notes. Great time. Just a real great, warm feeling playing with
him. No problems with him at all. Always had a great time with him, yeah.
RG: In a general way,
since you've played with so many bass players, if I can ask you a
question... I talked to Eric Ineke – the
great Dutch drummer – a guy who's played with so many people also. I like to ask drummers this question because
I think it's an interesting thing with the bass and drum dynamic. There's a very special thing there. Maybe I can ask you two questions. What do you really like in a bass player? And, what do you really not like?
KC: Well, what I like is when they play real nice melodic
lines that I can follow, easily. And I
have an idea where they're going all the time when they're playing. And I like it when their time is very focused
and right in the middle of the beat. And
what I don't like is when a bass player is playing a tonne of shit real fast on
the bass. Flying all over the place but
not giving me anything to hold on to so I can find where that sense of the time
should be. I don't like that.
RG: Too active...
KC: Yeah, right. Too
active. That I don't like.
RG: Another thing I
wanted to ask you about...a couple of people that we haven't mentioned. One, of course, looms very large in your
biography just because he's so famous, is Stevie Wonder. How did that come about, playing with him?
(Stevie Wonder)
KC: Well, with Stevie...I was actually working with a group
called The Nine Lords in Detroit. I
think at a place called Ben's High Chaparral.
Stevie had just put this new Wonderlove band together. They were rehearsing in New York. This was around the time he was doing Music
Of My Mind. He was recording all the
stuff in the studio. He was playing all
the drum tracks on it. He's a very good
drummer. Not technically, but feeling
wise. What he wanted to hear, he could
play it. So anyway, Gene Key was living
in Detroit. That used to be his Musical
Director before Stevie decided to form this Wonderlove band where there would
be no Musical Director. Stevie would be
the Musical Director. Gene knew he was
looking for a drummer. So he had a
drummer and they did one gig somewhere – I think it was in, if I'm not
mistaken, I think it was in Fort Wayne, Indiana – and the drummer missed the
plane to get to the gig. So they had to
call to Detroit to get somebody from Detroit to fly down to make the gig who
didn't know the music. I think they got
one of The Four Tops drummers or somebody to come in. So then Stevie said, 'I gotta get another
drummer that I can depend on and can make planes.' So Gene knew I was in town with this group
and he came over and heard me play. He
said, 'Listen, I'm gonna fly you to New York with me tomorrow and we're gonna
go meet Stevie and you're gonna play with Stevie tomorrow at a rehearsal.' I said, 'OK'.
So we got up early in the morning.
Flew to New York. I met Stevie,
we played, jammed for about two hours.
Then they took me to the airport, got me back. I got back to Detroit in time to make the gig
that night. Didn't hear anything. So I was working with The Nine Lords and Kim
Weston, who was married to Mickey Stevenson, a big producer for Motown. We went from Detroit back to Boston. Played for a week in Boston at The Sugar
Shack. Then we went to Washington to
play at a place called Pitts Motor Inn.
While I was in Pitts – we were there for ten days – I got a call. Evidently, Stevie had tried a couple of other
drummers after me and didn't like them and then I got a call. The call said, 'When you finish Sunday night
in DC come to New York and meet the band.
You're going to rehearse for two days.
Then you're going to go to Chicago and play at the Oriental Theatre with
Stevie.' I said, 'OK'. So I went up there that day. Broke my butt and got up to New York. Rehearsed for two days with the band. Stevie didn't come to the rehearsal! He was out in California, messing
around. I don't know what he was doing
but he was out there doing something.
(Gladys Knight)
So
we all met in Chicago at the Oriental Theatre.
Of course, we didn't have enough time to really do a decent
rehearsal. So Gene Key was there – he
was still trying to hang on to be Musical Director. He gave me this big book of music that he had
written up for me to play the show. And
then the guys in the horn section – Dave Sanborn was in the band, Trevor
Laurence, Steve Madaio - they had their ideas of what they wanted. Then Stevie had his ideas of what he
wanted. So I had three different things
coming at me about what everybody wanted.
We had a show and we were playing opposite Gladys Knight. Her band was opening up for us. They had horns. She had a rhythm section. And another group called The Constellations
which was, I think, Dionne Warwick's backup singers. They were good. Anyway, Gladys kicked our ass, man! She was so tight! And Gladys' drummer, Al Thompson, used to be
Stevie's drummer. And he was great,
man! He had a great backbeat, great time
and he knew her shit. He was functioning
as the Musical Director for the horn section and for Gladys and they
killed! So I was feeling kind of bad,
man. Because I felt like I couldn't play
because I had so much on my mind – to concentrate with trying to satisfy all of
these three different opinions.
So the
next day we finally had a really good rehearsal and we got it together. And then we started playing, we started
kicking butt. And we finished out the
week long stay and we did well. So I
stayed with Stevie for about seven months.
But the only thing I didn't like about Stevie...Stevie, every time there
was a drum solo, Stevie wanted to take the drum solo! So I had to learn how to play...and then when
he finished playing all that shit on the piano he would make his way over to the
drums which wasn't that far away and stand next to me. And I had to figure out a way to get up, get
him seated, get the sticks in his hand without losing too much time, so he
could take a drum solo. And this shit
went on for four or five months and I got tired and I said, 'When am I going to
get a drum solo?!' And really what he
wanted me to do was to try to play all of his licks. And I didn't want to do that. I said, 'I want to play my shit. I'm not going to play your shit. I don't want to sound like you.'
(The Rolling Stones)
So we did this for a while and then we were
on a tour with The Rolling Stones. We
had opened up for The Rolling Stones in Vancouver. We were the opening act on that tour and I
did three weeks with them. And when we
got to Dallas we played a gig...the only thing I didn't like about the tour was
Stevie had signed the contract with the money on a weekly basis. So he got a certain amount of money for each
week. But the Stones could add shows and
fill up them big arenas. We were playing
twice if they wanted to and we didn't get no extra money for that. I said, 'They're getting extra money for it.'
So, anyway, we got to Dallas and he did some shit when we
were playing. He started waving his
hands up and down. I didn't know what he
was doing. And he had set a tempo on
something, I don't know what tune it was...Signed, Sealed, Delivered or
whatever...but, evidently, after he had set the tempo he didn't like the tempo,
he was trying to change the tempo. He
wanted to make it faster or something. So I got pissed, man! So I made it fast, REAL fast! I was trying to teach him never to do that
again. I'm trying to teach the
bandleader something. So I made it real
fast and we finished the tune, finished the set. And then he called a meeting – he liked to
call meetings. Whenever there was
something wrong he'd call a meeting of the whole band. He called a meeting and the meeting was
directed at me. He said, 'That was
almost a perfect show except there was something wrong in the rhythm
section. Something was wrong with the
time.' So I said, 'Listen,
motherfucker! The only fuckin' thing
wrong with the time was you were fuckin' with the time. Set it one time and then you made it like you
wanted it to get faster.' I said, 'I
made it faster. I made it real
fast. If you hadn't been fuckin' with it
and left it where it was so we could finish that tune like it was. You have to be responsible for the getting
the tempo right when you call it. If you
call it wrong you have to live with it.'
So I was really out. Everybody
was looking at me like I had snapped because they had never heard me speak to
him like that before. Well, I had.
RG: So what was his
reaction to that?
KC: He didn't say shit.
I just walked out of the meeting after that. I said my shit and that's it. So I went back to the hotel room and I packed
my shit and I left. I left him in
Dallas. I didn't ever play with him no
more, I split. I'm not going for this
shit no more. This shit's going to
happen again. So they called me. They found out that I had split. They sent Ralph Hammer, the guitar player,
out to the airport to talk me into staying.
I said, 'No, man. I'm not taking no more of this abuse. This is ridiculous.' That on top of the drum shit, the solo
shit. 'I don't need this. We ain't making that much money. I could make this much money staying at
home.' So I stayed at home and I did
good. I never looked back. That's what happened with Stevie. But I really loved working with him when
things were going well. He was a great
musician. He still is a great
musician. I loved playing his music, and
I loved his tunes, and I loved that band.
But I didn't like the abuse.
RG: Stan Getz? You played with him...
KC: Stan Getz was a trip.
Stan Getz was a real trip, man. I
worked with him with Jim McNeely, and sometimes George Mraz, sometimes...who
else played bass?
RG: Marc Johnson,
maybe?
KC: No, not Marc Johnson, sometimes Rufus. Worked real good with Rufus. Worked real good with Jim McNeely and
Rufus. And it worked real good with
George Mraz. Stan was like a split
personality. Sometimes he was the
nicest, sweetest guy in the world. And
other times he was a real prick, man.
Sometimes he'd ask me to rub his back, to give him back massages, and I
would, when he was being nice. Then
other times I wouldn't do shit for him, man.
He was really a trip.
The first time I went out with him on a long tour he booked
me into Washington, to Blues Alley, for four nights and he paid me 150 a night
which wasn't bad for Blues Alley. And
then we left there, we started doing these one nighters through the mid-west. And all of these one nighters were in big
places...all these places I had been before.
Chicago, University of Illinois in Champaign Urbana...all these
places. And all of these big joints he
was still paying me 150 a night. And I
know he wasn't paying the other guys that.
But, because he had started me off at 150 in the club he figured I was
stupid enough to think that that's what it was supposed to be. So I kept doing it, I did that first tour,
but I used to get mad at Stan. And
Stan's health wasn't that great, but he wanted to play with a lot of
energy. So whenever he was having a good
night he wanted to play with a lot of energy.
I'd bombard him with all that Elvin shit that I knew. I said, 'Oh, you feel like playing tonight? Play on this, motherfucker!' Boom! I was throwing everything I had
at him. That shit was kicking his ass
sometimes. But that's because he had
been so weird to me sometimes.
So I
remember the last night I played with him after a tour. We played in Dallas, at the Caravan of Dreams
which was a big club, held about three, four hundred people. He had been acting strange. We played that first set...I put so much shit
on him that first set he had to go lay down on the couch somewhere to rest, to
get ready for the second set, because I really layed some shit on him. I shouldn't have done that, that was
terrible. But I had the strength and the
technique to do it so I did it, because he wanted some power.
But he also said some shit to me, and I never forgave him for it, in Washington. At the end of the Washington gig he said some shit to me about...'Yeah Keith, I almost had to let you go, man. You almost weren't good enough to hang with me'. I said, 'Oh yeah? Ok. I'll remember you said that, Stan'. Because I had been there about a month before with George Russell playing at the Smithsonian, playing some really hard shit. We had to play The African Game and some other shit for about an hour and a half straight. And I killed! And the guy that reviewed us at Blues Alley said 'Yeah, Stan sounded great and Stan had Keith Copeland, George Russell's drummer, with him and he sounded great'. So the reviewer had heard it and thought I sounded wonderful. But Stan was telling me some shit. I think that's why he only paid me 150 a night, because I wasn't coming up to par for him. I said, 'Well, we'll see if I come up to par for you the next time, motherfucker! I'll let you know I can come up to par! You need more! If you want more, here's some more!' I gave him plenty to work with!
But he also said some shit to me, and I never forgave him for it, in Washington. At the end of the Washington gig he said some shit to me about...'Yeah Keith, I almost had to let you go, man. You almost weren't good enough to hang with me'. I said, 'Oh yeah? Ok. I'll remember you said that, Stan'. Because I had been there about a month before with George Russell playing at the Smithsonian, playing some really hard shit. We had to play The African Game and some other shit for about an hour and a half straight. And I killed! And the guy that reviewed us at Blues Alley said 'Yeah, Stan sounded great and Stan had Keith Copeland, George Russell's drummer, with him and he sounded great'. So the reviewer had heard it and thought I sounded wonderful. But Stan was telling me some shit. I think that's why he only paid me 150 a night, because I wasn't coming up to par for him. I said, 'Well, we'll see if I come up to par for you the next time, motherfucker! I'll let you know I can come up to par! You need more! If you want more, here's some more!' I gave him plenty to work with!
RG: That's a great
story. You're not in a very exclusive
club of people he was weird to, that's for sure.
KC: Stan was rough, man.
RG: Just a couple
more questions...I know you made at least one recording with him, maybe
two. I don't know if you guys played
live or not. Paul Bley?
KC: (laughs) Paul Bley!
We did a date and there was some problem with the technical stuff on the
date. He wanted me to play some brushes
and the brushes I was using were wire brushes with metal tips coming out of the
end. And every time I was playing with
these brushes there would be some metallic clicks that would come through the
line. So we'd get something going good
and we'd have to stop because of these clicks.
So finally they found some brushes in the studio that were plastic
brushes and I started using those, no problem.
But we had wasted about two hours trying to figure out what these clicks
were. But Paul played some of the
strangest shit I ever heard! Me and Paul
and Bob Cranshaw. Bob Cranshaw, who was
another wonderful bass player. He
usually plays electric but he brought his upright to the date. If it hadn't been for Bob Cranshaw I could
have never gotten through this date. Because
he was the rock, he knew what to do. And
Paul was playing some strange shit, even going out of the form of the tune
sometimes. Turning the time around, and
I had to fix it and catch it. But the
record came out pretty good actually.
RG: Yeah, I
remember. It was called ‘Bebop, or
something?
KC: Bebop! There's
nothing but bebop tunes on it.
RG: I was thinking
about that just before we talked. You
must be the only person on any instrument who has played with both Stevie
Wonder and Paul Bley.
KC: (laughs)
RG: Definitely! I don't think there's anybody else who has
that range of experience! The final
thing I wanted to ask you about, Keith, because you've lived in Europe since
'93...you're twenty years, I guess, in Europe now. And, of course, you originally grew up, came
up, in the scene in the States. What
would you say was your experience of the difference between being a
professional jazz musician living in Europe and being a professional jazz
musician living in the States?
KC: Well, when I first got over here I was very busy and I
was running around like I used to run around in the States. But after you stay over here about four or
five years they get used to you over here.
It's not a novelty. If you come
over here from the States on tour, you're a novelty. So you get
treated a little bit better sometimes.
But if you stay over here too long you become sort of local. And that's what happened, I became local over
here. That was the only difference. So I don't play as much because when I was a
novelty I got the really good money, and I got the chance to play with the
really nice people, at the right places.
But now, I don't play so much because I can't get the right money all
the time. And I don't feel like going
out and busting my butt if the money ain't right, you know. The States was ok except those last few years
I was in New York I was traveling so much I got to see New York from the
airplane more than I did from being on the ground because I always saw it
landing or taking off. That's what I was
always doing, going places from New York.
And I said, 'I love New York, but I never get to see it except from the
air.' And then I was teaching a lot in
New York. You know, I was teaching at
the New School, I was teaching at Long Island University, I was teaching at
Rutgers for seven years. I was teaching
at so many different places. Teaching
upstate, there was a little school up there.
I was teaching there a little bit.
Anyway, it was a little bit too much and, over here, it was a lot
sometimes but then it slowed down.
Especially about three or four years before I had my stroke, but then
after my stroke it slowed down a lot. But
that was the main difference between New York and here.
RG: Well listen,
Keith, thank you so much...
KC: Yeah, Ronan!
To finish - here's a track from one of the trio albums that I had the privilege of playing with Keith on, with Tommy Halferty on guitar - it's a swinging workout of 'All of Me', typical of the way this trio played.
https://soundcloud.com/ronang/5-audio-track
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