John Patitucci Takes His Basses To New Places—Line By Line

Line by Line is a first-rate, adventurous jazz disc featuring the frontline talents of guitarist Adam Rogers, drummer Brian Blade, saxophonist Chris Potter, a savvy string quartet, and Patitucci’s ever-evolving compositional pen. It’s also a state-of-the-bass album that documents where the acoustic and electric bass have been, just how far they have gone, and where they can go. In taking back the mantle, Patitucci casts his serpentine 6-string amid contrapuntal chamber writing, multi-movement suites, Headhunters-infused hard bop, and West African-inspired polyrhythmic tone poems. Meanwhile, his diligent double bass work ranges from down-home Delta blues and sweetly bowed Spanish impressionism to supple straightahead playing with thematic improvisation.

Of course, a monster bass record was the last thing on the 47-year-old Patitucci’s mind. “I try to approach my CDs purely from the music and let the tools serve that,” he says. But that didn’t keep us from traveling to John’s cozy Hudson Valley home—which he shares with wife Sachi and daughters Gracie and Bella—to pick his brain about Line by Line and more.

What’s behind the making of Line by Line?
As on my past CDs, I feel my mission as a bassist and composer is to make albums that are diverse—developing different aspects of my personality and the styles I like—while trying to tie it all together in a consistent, cohesive way. In this case, Adam and Brian and I had already been performing some of the music as a trio, so that was a focus; I also wanted to feature my classical chamber-writing side. The title refers to there being a lot of counterpoint on the CD, and also to the poem I wrote for the liner notes, which is about thinking in a linear way. Painters, poets, and photographers work like that, and on the grand scale, so does life.

Your 6-string has an increased role.
That was intentional. I’ve been in New York for ten years, focusing on my upright—but it got to the point where I had a call for a record date, and when I asked if I should bring my acoustic and electric, they said, “You play electric?” So I knew it was time. I get asked constantly which instrument I like better, but I love them both equally and I want to keep developing on both. I also want to utilize the electric bass in an acoustic jazz context. There are a lot of terrific electric bassists with their own paths and visions that may be jazz-influenced, but most don’t have jazz as a priority—the way Steve Swallow, who embodies the jazz tradition, does. I understand that the electric has been discriminated against in jazz, but that’s still my goal. The end result is I’m using my 6 in acoustic jazz and other settings on the CD as well as live. Having musicians as sensitive as Adam and Brian means I can play the 6 with just as many broad dynamics as the upright—from really light to hard-hitting, and all the shadings in-between. The electric bass is only 50 years old; we should be trying to implement many colors and ideas, not just one articulation.

Let’s talk about your concept on the 6: Do you view it as a guitar, primarily?
I see it in a few ways. First and foremost, it is a bass, tuned in 4ths, and I do tend to go for a darker sound. But I also think in terms of classical guitar, because I grew up around my brother playing it, and guitar is the general feel of an electric bass. On the other hand, my voicings are derived from listening to piano players, and when I solo, I’m thinking of tenor saxophonists. So really, I see the 6 as its own hybrid thing. A good example is “Tone Poem,” the last track on the CD; my only goal there was to write an orchestral-sounding piece for the solo 6-string.

Have you developed any special techniques from playing the 6, and has there been any transfer of techniques between the 6 and your upright?
On the 6 I’ve been using my right-hand thumb and first two fingers a lot, especially when palm muting. Chord-wise, I’ll use 4ths, like jazz pianists do—for example, playing a Gsus with the 3rd on top: G, C, F, B [15th-fret E, A, and D strings, 16th-fret G string]; that’s totally McCoy Tyner. Or I’ll play clusters, like John Scofield does on guitar: For an E minor chord, I’ll play B, F#, and G [14th-fret A string, 16th-fret D string, 12th fret G string]. Occasionally I’ll play a chord against an open string, but I don’t like to play too many chords, because it gets predictable. Often the beauty of a trio or duo is the open space—you don’t have to define and fill in everything. Let the listeners’ ears do that.
With regard to transferring ideas between instruments, sure; I use a good amount of upright left-hand vibrato on the 6, and I keep my action fairly high to get a bigger sound and to have better dynamic control. On the upright, I find myself hooking up with Brian Blade and playing a lot of funky, James Jamerson/Willie Weeks-inspired grooves on Wayne’s gigs. So at times, I pluck with the tips of my fingers instead of the sides, to be able to move quicker. I’ve learned how to get a thick tone with just my fingertips; it has to do with using the weight of your arm and forearm.

As usual, you use your bow to full effect, as on “Nana,” “Soaring,” and “Incarnation.”
I’ve been focusing on my bowing since moving to New York, studying with various teachers and trying to take it to a freer place. “Nana” is a vocal/piano piece by the famous Spanish composer Manuel de Falla. I’d played it on a Renee Rosnes CD, and Adam told me he’d performed it with bassist Tony Falanga, who plays with the St. Luke’s Chamber Orchestra in New York, and with Ornette Coleman. I thought the melody would work well with the bow, given my love of Spanish melismatic singing.
I wrote “Soaring” and “Incarnation” about ten years ago as part of a planned five-part suite for bass; I never finished the last three movements, but I felt these two could stand on their own. I put in a 6-string solo on “Soaring” to add another color. “Incarnation” took the most practice because it’s slow, with bowing that goes up to a high C. I didn’t want to overdub, so it took a few passes; my goal was to create a mystical, singing voice.

Another CD signature of yours is an earthy solo upright piece—in this case, “Jesus Is on the Mainline.”
I’m an avid listener of records and a lover of early blues; Brian Blade hipped me to Mississippi Fred McDowell, and this song [from I Do Not Play No Rock ’n’ Roll, Capitol, 1969, reissued as a double-CD in 1995] blew my mind. I did my version of it, implying IV and V chords and just trying to get a vocal, rootsy sound. The same kind of inspiration is behind the CD’s opener, “The Root,” which was influenced by my love of African music—in particular, West African drummer Doudou N’Diaye Rose and his album Djabote [Real World, 1994]. My City College position as Associate Professor of Jazz Studies has gotten me into even more music, as I seek out recordings to illustrate concepts to my students.

Earlier you alluded to your use of counterpoint—it’s apparent throughout the CD, especially on the title track and “Agitato.”
“Agitato” is very canonic, almost literally a canon or fugue, which are forms of counterpoint. There’s a melody line by Chris Potter’s sax, and then the guitar melody comes in right behind, like a fugue. For the solo sections there were no written changes; the only instructions were to think canonically. You can hear everyone picking up fragments of the melody, or restating it backwards. Everybody really took to it; the track is a first take. “Line by Line” is me writing in more conventional counterpoint, and then we also go into straightahead sections.
I initially got into counterpoint by listening to and studying Bach at school. He had a huge influence on my bass playing and my writing. Years later, after I had some solo albums under my belt, Chris Poehler, who was an early bass teacher and main mentor of mine, challenged me to write with a more contrapuntal approach—that is, create harmony in my compositions through a secondary line or lines, instead of chords. That’s what classical composers do, as opposed to pop and jazz, where the harmony is usually one block chord leading to another. You can find some really interesting stuff when you try to create the harmony linearly. A good example of this in jazz is Thad Jones’s writing for the Thad Jones/Mel Lewis big band. I write on the computer using Finale software; then I go back and listen for where the counterpoint line is working and where it may be clashing with the melody.

What advice can you give to bassists who want to try writing in counterpoint?
Listen to Bach’s Two-Part Inventions, Goldberg Variations, and The Art of Fugue. Obviously, you can learn the strict rules of classical counterpoint from a book, but a good place to jump right in is with a standard. Take a tune like “Stella by Starlight” and try to come up with a line that weaves around the melody. The best way to start is to think of call-and-response melodies in the breaks between the melody. And because the song has chord changes, that can guide you, too. Your counterpoint line should be able to stand as a good, independent melody, yet have enough in common with the original melody. Another good practice is to write a two feel or walking bass line to “Stella” that has a linear flow, and then you’ll have three-part counterpoint. Bassists who are architects of great walking bass lines, like Ron Carter, come from that approach.

Let’s tackle the CD’s centerpiece, “Theme and Variations for 6-String Bass and Strings.”
I wrote it back when I was with Chick Corea, who encouraged me to write more; it was commissioned through our Italian promoter, Lucio Fumo, for the Suono E Oltre Chamber Orchestra in Pescara. We performed it twice in Italy and once in Japan, with the New Japan Philharmonic. For the CD, I knew I couldn’t get that size orchestra to play with the tighter groove and feel I wanted; plus there was limited rehearsal time, so I arranged it down for string quartet plus string bass. I wanted the track to be a performance, without any overdubs, so I had my friend Jeremy McCoy, who’s the Principal Bassist with the New York Metropolitan Opera, play the bass part. The string quartet members include my wife Sachi and close friends who have recorded my last three albums; they’re world-class players, so they were really on top of it, and we recorded everything in one day.
The piece begins with a theme stated by the strings that is continually developed, with counterpoint creating harmonies that are informed by jazz. The 6 enters with the theme and more development. The idea is for the piece to keep ramping up, both in tempo and scope. After some blowing on the 6, there’s a pizzicato section that was heavily influenced by Ravel’s String Quartet, which I’d analyzed. Then there’s some more 6-string improvisation, into a slightly faster Latin-like figure; that leads to a soli, with spiraling, Mike Brecker-inspired lines. After a big, final restatement of the theme, I play a cadenza in which I try to evoke John Coltrane’s cadenza style, and we’re home.

“Circular” has a Wayne Shorter vibe. What can you relate about the track and about your role in Shorter’s quartet?
“Circular” is certainly influenced by Wayne’s writing; it’s built around the melody and a bass line that keeps descending, as opposed to conventional II-V jazz harmonies that relate to key centers. As for the quartet, it has been an incredible opportunity. Wayne wants us to not be bound by traditional roles, and as a result, we’re all catalysts in the band. I can be creating the foundation with Brian, or blowing, or playing with the bow, or playing just with Wayne, or laying out altogether. The focus is on group improvisation, where you leave space and listen, as opposed to, “Okay, now I do my thing.” Even my grooves are organized like that, so there’s always a way to hear what everyone else is playing. Wayne calls it composing in the moment. We’re composing as we play; anyone can take the lead or cue the next song, and boom, we’re there. It’s very exciting and demands a huge commitment to group interaction.

What’s the greatest lesson you’ve taken from the gig?
To have the courage to stretch and continually try to find new ideas, instead of falling back on what’s comfortable or reaching into your trick bag. Everything Wayne plays is so strong, and he’s always searching; he doesn’t play licks. So it’s a tremendous challenge, because if you don’t play pure music at all times, you’re going to sound frivolous and trite in comparison. It has been the greatest blessing. Timing-wise, I feel like my whole development to this point has been leading to this band, and it was just the right time for me to take it on and try to become a more fluent musician. Now I want to maintain that growth in all aspects of my music and my life.