Soul Circus is unexpected, even for a Wooten release—from the CD cover’s eight-arm character, Funktopus, to the pure pop on the disc itself. There’s plenty of low end to marvel at throughout; the bass-hero homage “Bass Tribute” is a sweet indulgence for us thumpers. However, this is the first time bass is not the focus of a Wooten album. Considering Victor’s year off from the Flecktones and his most commercial product in hand, here’s a tip for Wooten fans: Keep an ear to the radio and an eye on TV.
We spoke to Victor on the eve of the first leg of his major U.S. tour, to talk about the CD and the ensuing bells-and-whistles tour.
Soul Circus is your potential breakout disc. Is that how you view it?
It’s more like I’m aware of that side of it, and I do expect my audience to grow from this disc, but I have no expectations beyond having met the challenge I set for myself. The idea for Soul Circus came about a few years ago, during a period when I was recording a lot of music—three CDs’ worth. My last two albums were groove-oriented, so my plan was to release a fusion-type, heavy-playing disc this year. But while I was recording that material, I kept listening to these other funky songs I was cutting. I thought, I’ve always wanted to put together an album where every song could be played on the radio, so to speak. But I didn’t want to compromise the music’s integrity. I wanted to do something both musicians and the public would dig, the way my friends in the Dave Matthews Band have done. Having turned 40, I realized that if I were going to try this, the time is now.
What was your musical formula?
Well, not to get down on anyone, but it seems like some of today’s artists write music as if the public is dumb or asleep. They write down to their audience. The radio music I grew up on was both popular and cutting-edge: James Brown, the Beatles, Stevie Wonder, Sly Stone, and Earth, Wind & Fire. I wanted to attempt to create music in that spirit. I tried to give it a contemporary sound, using some of the beats and other elements from hip-hop—but I mixed in some Old School style from Sly to Prince and the Time. So it’s current in the way that I want to hear it. For instance the opener, “Victa,” addresses the way rappers boast, with me announcing who I am. But the tune has a funky, Cameo-like pacing, and Bootsy Collins is on there doing his vocal thing.
Soul Circus isn’t really a bass record.
The focus is the songs, and I’m glad to hear you say that, because there’s still a heck of a lot of bass on the disc—enough to keep the bass fans happy. There are plenty of tracks with three or four basses overdubbed, and there are some solos that are among my favorite that I’ve ever played. But the reason they’re my favorites is they happen within the music. Throughout the disc, I was just playing what I felt. I’m known for pyrotechnics, but it’s really a small part of who I am. My main goal is always to make people forget I’m a bass player; it’s just an instrument, a tool. When you talk, your mouth is your tool, but no one focuses on your mouth. Their attention goes way past the tool to the meaning and emotion of what you’re saying. If I do things well enough, I can make you forget about the bass and focus on the music.
Can you take us inside “Bass Tribute”?
My goal was to write a song that pays respect to the bass giants whose shoulders I stand on, as well as the great contemporary players we all love. I started with a drum machine, the tenor bass riff at the top [see Lesson, page 48], and some lyrics, and then I added my brother Joseph’s keyboards and J.D. Blair’s drums. From there, I decided it would be great to get some bass buddies—we ended up with 11—to help me sing. After each one sang, I’d ask them to name some of their favorite bassists, so the list and the lyrics kept growing. When [co-producer] Kurt Storey went to New York to record Will Lee, T.M. Stevens, and Christian McBride, I had only planned on them singing—but Will and T.M. added bass, and it was great. Will pays tribute to Anthony Jackson, James Jamerson, and Willie Weeks, and T.M. does Bootsy. Steve Bailey did Ray Brown and Rocco Prestia, and I did Larry Graham, Stanley Clarke, Jaco Pastorius, Marcus Miller, and a second Willie Weeks line. I have two favorite parts of the track. One is the bridge, where there are three bass classics going at once: Regi [Wooten, guitar] is playing the chords to “Teentown,” Joseph is playing the “School Days” melody, and I’m playing the bass line from “Thank You [Falettin Me Be Mice Elf Agin].” The other is at the end of the bridge, where I name Robert Wilson. People may not be as familiar with him; he’s the bassist in the Gap Band. Then I play a bit of his solo on “Shake,” which was a 1979 Top Five hit that actually had a bass feature.
“Prayer” and “Natives” both have Native American elements.
The study of Native American culture is a big part of my life, and it led directly to the birth of my Bass/Nature Camp. Native Americans are very open-minded about us all being related and of one spirit, and that’s the vibe I wanted on these songs. “Natives” started with the chorus lyric, and then I came up with the Prince- and the Time-inspired slapped groove at the top [see Lesson], which I embellished and spread over two bass tracks. I got Bill Miller, a Native American musician in Nashville, to come in and record his vocals, frame drums, shakers, and wood flute. He was like this whirling one-man band, doing everything at once.
“Prayer” is drawn lyrically from my dad’s life, which had its share of turmoil due to his Korean War stint. In the bridge, I wanted a second prayer to the “Lord’s Prayer,” so I had Bill Miller recite a Native American one. The song started as a 6/8 groove I came up with at a Flecktones soundcheck. Later, I wrote the chorus, which is in 4/4, and I like the contrast between the two feels. I do the same thing on “Stay,” which goes from 11/8 verses to a 4/4 chorus. The bass on “Prayer” is my Taylor fretless acoustic bass guitar, which I recorded direct and miked acoustically.
What are the bass sounds on your cover of “Can’t Hide Love” and on “Cell Phone”?
“Can’t Hide” is my Fodera Yin-Yang 5-string [with a high C string]—which has a Yamaha MIDI pickup—through the Roland V-Bass, and then mixed with clean bass. I don’t know the patch name; I just turned it on and scrolled to a sound I liked. It’s sort of a light envelope filter. It definitely inspired my approach, which is why I like effects: They make you play differently. If you listen to my soloing closely, you can hear me going back and forth between knowing and not really knowing where I am in the changes. I kind of like that; I’ll leave in mistakes if I’ve captured the vibe I was after. Someone once said, “You can miss the note, but don’t miss the point.”
“Cell Phone” is a strange one to explain. The background music comes from a recording I made of the rhythm section—including me on upright—playing “Soul Circus.” I was fast-forwarding through it on my DVD player, and the resulting chopped up sound was so funky, I brought my DVD player downstairs and recorded and looped a portion. That’s what you’re hearing on “Cell Phone.” I also put the cell phone ring sound on my MIDI 5-string, and at the end of the track I’m soloing using that sound. The song was a longtime idea of mine, and we had fun creating all the characters.
“Back to India” has a Sting-like, world-pop presence and radio-ready lead vocal by Speech from Arrested Development.
Speech’s voice is precisely how I’d like my vocals to sound, if I could sing! The song came about on the spur of the moment. I had two Indian percussionists in the studio, playing a clay pot called a ghatam, a small tambourine called a kanjira, and a jaw harp. We had just finished “Stay,” and I got this groove in mind. I grabbed a bass and went in with them, and I said, “I don’t have a form yet, but I’ll nod when the sections change”—I was making it up on the spot. I even asked them to put in tihais leading into different sections, which are rhythmic phrases repeated three times, with the last one ending on beat one. Later, I overdubbed fills on my “sitar bass.” I got the sitar bass about five years ago from a friend of Béla’s, when the Flecktones played at the Birchmere in Virginia. It looks like a fretless Steinberger; Béla put banjo strings on it and rigged the neck so that the strings lie on the fingerboard in the upper register, giving those notes a buzzing, sitar-like sound.
“Higher Law” echoes Sly Stone’s rock-funk protest anthems.
That almost didn’t make the CD, mainly because I didn’t like the way I sang it—but Joseph and the rest of the guys loved the raw, Sly Stone vibe, so I left it as is and put it on. Raymond Massey, a great drummer who works for Pearl drums, was at my place recording, and I got this idea for a New Orleans-like march groove. At first I thumbed the groove with him, but it sounded better without the bass, so I put down a counter part instead. That became the verse section. Later, I was messing around and I came up with the rock hook. I love playing heavy rock in a Billy Sheehan style, and I rarely get to do it. The raw bass sound is my Fodera NYC with a dying battery, so it’s on the verge of distortion.
“Ari’s Eyes” may be your finest instrumental ballad to date. What inspired it?
The song originated the day before the 2002 Drum & Bass Collective show in New York. I knew I had a solo spot and that everyone would be expecting fireworks, so I wanted to do the exact opposite. I came up with the progression and improvised on it at the show. When I went to add a melody so I could use the tune on this disc, it came real fast, which proved a theory of mine: A song is already finished before you write it. You’re job is just to get to that point. It’s almost like when you take a long walk—the destination is already set, and you just have to arrive there.
Now my personal preference is to take that journey with the musicians who will be recording with me. I rarely, if ever, have a track laid out with exactly what everyone is going to play; I just have a general plan in mind, because I like to rely on the creativity of great musicians to finish the song as we go. It’s like getting together with old friends and just talking. It wouldn’t be the same if you told them what you were all going to talk about when they showed up, and how they were going to say it. In this case, I can’t imagine “Ari’s Eyes” without the contributions of Howard Levy’s mournful harmonica, or Steve Bailey’s fretless in the bridge.
The CD marks the “coming out” of Funktopus. Can you explain?
When A Show of Hands first came out, the word on the street was, “No one could be playing that without overdubs—the guy has to have eight hands.” Well, the secret is out; I’ve come clean. You may have thought the music was incredibly difficult to play, but it was actually not that hard for me because I do have eight arms, eight hands, and 40 fingers. I’m admitting it now; I hope people accept me.
Does your son Adam have eight arms?
Adam only has four—we may release pictures.
The CD’s title song sounds like audio proof of Funktopus!
The first thing I had was the upright groove. Joseph, J.D., and I tracked the chord progression, and later I came up with the weird melody—no doubt inspired by the gigs I’ve done with Mike Stern. Then I harmonized the melody with a part above and a part below, which I overdubbed … er, played with my extra arms [grins]. I used my 5-string, a wah-like effect on the V-Bass, and a vibrato setting on a DigiTech multi-effect pedal. For my solo, which morphs out of Shawn Wallace’s sax solo, I varied the effect settings slightly. My cousin, M.C. Sookie, wrote and performed the rap, and the scat at the very beginning is my drummer friend, Kelly Gravely. He’s really good at imitating a bass with his voice; he was over recording one day, and he did an imitation of my playing. I recorded it and used it for the beginning and end of the track. Then I learned what he scatted, and at the end, I play it along with him.
What can you reveal about the live show for the Soul Circus tour?
It will be my best ever—a real circus with magic and surprises. We have eight pieces: myself, Regi, Joseph, J.D. and Derico Watson on drums, MC Divinity and Anthony Wellington on bass, and a great vocalist from New York, Saundra Williams, who sings all over the CD. Plus there will be special guests in selected cities. This is the first time we’re bringing out lights and a set, part of which was built by the fellow who designed and built Earth, Wind & Fire’s magic sets. It’s also the first time we’ve rehearsed extensively on a big soundstage, so we could get all the music, choreography, lights, props, and sets together. Musically, the main focus is the CD material; we’re prepared to play every tune over the course of the tour, although we won’t get to them all every night. We’ll also do some of my older songs, and we have a medley of my tunes, such as “The Lonliest Monk,” “Sinister Minister,” “Me and My Bass Guitar,” and “What Did He Say,” ready as an encore. There are places in the show where Anthony, Divinity, Regi, and myself are all playing bass together, and the music is already evolving. On “Bass Tribute,” each band member is singing and Anthony and I are switching parts on the verses, so that when one sings, the other plays. Divinity joins us for the bass imitations, and after I mention Robert Wilson, we open it up and do more of the Gap Band song.
And Funktopus?
Of course. Come to a show and you’ll see my eight arms—which, by the way, really comes in handy for signing autographs!