Bass Be With You
Bass players write music differently than guitarists or keyboard players. We have a direct link to the groove, a subtle ear for the potential to lock foreground and background. Bass players build from the ground up and have less ego at stake. I can’t help but think from a bass player’s perspective—it’s influenced the music I write for film, video games, TV, and the concert hall. And you can do the same. As bass players we have the power, so let’s use it!
When you’re pushed in a million musical directions—composing, directing a band, producing, and editing—it’s tempting to use bass samples instead of playing the parts yourself. We all fall victim to the illusion that opening up that big ol’ box of tasty sample cookies will fill in the place where a human once proudly stood. I challenge you to stop! Yes, make that gig, write that track, but don’t outsource yourself—keep playing!
It’s tempting to let the playing go. In fact, I’ve had many opportunities to stop playing bass entirely. After all, the keyboard is on a stand and already in tune! Samples are great, but nothing beats the feel and intensity of live playing. Picking up my bass and interacting with other musicians feeds my soul like nothing else. It also keeps my composing chops up. Playing is, by its very nature, cathartic and healing.
Compared to synth bass, real bass almost always works better. This was clear when I recorded the opening for the film What Would Jesus Buy (which premiered at South By Southwest in March). I replaced MIDI tracks with live bass parts, and while mixing, the producers and I realized just how important the live bass was. With just the MIDI part the track was stiff. When we dumped it and brought the live bass up in the mix, everything locked immediately with the strings.
Even if a gig is difficult, I never feel more at home than when I’m playing. I remember one night onstage at the Kitchen in New York City with a large-format version of my band, the Code Ensemble, performing The Re-Taking of Pelham 123 (a re-exploration of David Shire’s classic 1970s film score). I had to be very aware of cueing the band exactly in time with the film, so I couldn’t make any extra body movements, lest the whole thing derail. The pulse was tremendous, like a freight train picking up speed—15 musicians locked together as one with no way to stop. The guitars were wailing, the trumpets spiking, and we were all sweating. But even with these crosscurrents and the other difficulties in this piece, I was in my natural setting. I was doing what I was meant to do. I was loose, free, and happy speaking through my bass.
I had no clue that the journey I started many years ago copping Jaco licks and reading through Rufus Reid’s book The Evolving Bassist [Warner Bros.] would lead me to the places I have been. I never thought that my music and bass playing would appear on TV and in an Academy Award-nominated film! My continued connection with playing has helped create a continuum over the years. Be true to yourself … play!
Steve Horowitz is a creator of odd but highly accessible sounds and a diverse and prolific musician, with an output spanning the worlds of film, television, games, concerts, and recordings. In addition to his film and television scores (Super Size Me, Casino Cinema, I Bet You Will, Nickelodeon), he also founded the band the Code International. Steve won a Grammy award for engineering the multi-artist True Life Blues: The Songs of Bill Monroe [Sugar Hill], 1996’s winner for best bluegrass album www.thecodeinternational.com
