Leo Nobre

Did you study music formally?

I studied jazz at the University of Miami for four years. I never graduated, though, because I started studying classical bass with an amazing teacher named Lucas Drew. I decided to focus on that instead of finishing my program. Plus, I was already gigging at that point. I felt I’d played with everybody at Miami, and I wanted to explore other styles of music.

How did your style develop after you left school?

My head was packed with information—a zillion notes and licks. That was great, but in the real world it’s more important to know what not to play. I started working with singer/songwriters—like Fulano, who was nominated for a Latin Grammy last year—and I had to discipline myself to find the beauty in playing less. I read something in Bass Player about using dynamics to create different effects: short notes, long notes, muted notes. It was brilliant. That’s what I’m into. I’m definitely a dynamic player.

What bassists do you most admire?

In the early ’80s, it was Jaco Pastorius, Stanley Clarke, and Marcus Miller. Later, I got into more of the groove players like James Jamerson. There are a few guys from Brazil who amaze me, like Nico Assumpção and Luizão Maia. In the ’70s and ’80s, Luizão was doing most of the sessions in Brazil; he was to Brazilian music what Jamerson was to Motown. Nowadays, I’m listening to Richard Bona and Oteil Burbridge.

Timeless merges traditional Brazilian sounds with hip-hop and rap. Was that a stretch for you?

I’ve played a lot of funk and hip-hop, so that felt natural. When you play sambas, you want the bass to be clear and defined, but hip-hop relies more on heavy low end. To get that sound I use a DOD filter to add lows. Our house engineer hated it and thought there was too much bass in the room. But with hip-hop, the walls have to shake, so we had a bit of a battle!