Marcus Miller

He playes on a 1977 Fender Jazz with a very "hi-fi" sound.

FROM BASS PLAYER MAGAZINE OCTOBER 1992 ·
BY: CHRIS JISI·

Eleven years ago, Marcus Miller- then a 21-year-old studio-bass phenom-told an interviewer: "I know there are a lot of people who would love to be studio bassists, and I'm very fortunate. But for it to happen so fast lets me know there must be some place further to go. "Prophetic words. Since then, Miller has gone from being a much-sought after producer, composer, arranger, and multi-instrumentalist in the pop, R&B, funk, and jazz fields. Best known for his chart-topping collaborations with saxophonist David Sanborn, vocalist Luther Vandross, and legendary bandleader Miles Davis, Miller´s additional credits range from the Queen of Soul (Aretha Franklin) to the Chairman of the Board (Frank Sinatra). In between, Marcus has managed to sustain a solo career that includes two solo albums plus a pair by the Jamaica Boys, which he CO-leads. And his recent foray into film music includes tracks for Spike Lee´s School Daze and Kid ´N Play´s House Party, as well as scores for Siesta (featuring Miles Davis) and Eddie Murphy´s latest, Boomerang.

Although Miller´s recent work might indicate a permanent move toward studio mogul-dom, a la Prince or Quincy Jones, there's good news for us bass players. Marcus recently completed a third solo album, The Sun Don't Lie, and the ten tracks are brimming with fretted and fretless bass magic. Dedicated to the memory of Miles Davis, who died while the music was being recorded, The Sun Don't Lie features an impressive supporting cast that includes Miles, saxophonists Wayne Shorter and David Sanborn, guitarists Vernon Reid and Jonathan Butler, keyboardist Joe Sample, and drummer Tony Williams. Although Miller was still negotiating with record companies as we went to press, he says the album should be released this fall.

Marcus Miller was born on June 14, 1959, in Brooklyn and raised in Rochdale Village, in the Jamaica section of Queens, New York. His initial enchantment with music began in church, where his father, an organist, performed everything from classical music to gospel. Marcus acquired a taste for jazz as well, after hearing Wynton Kelly, a second cousin, play the piano. (Kelly is best known, interestingly, for his work with Miles Davis.) Inspired by what he heard, Marcus began singing, and then, at age ten, he took up the clarinet. Soon after, the pop sounds of such artists as Kool & the Gang, Stevie Wonder, The Jackson 5, and Isaac Hayes started to draw his attention. With little chance of getting into a local band as a clarinetist, he tried saxophone and organ before latching onto the bass at age 13. With help from his parents, he bought a semi-hollowbody Univox bass before moving on to his first Fender Jazz Bass.

While it was his aptitude on clarinet that gained him entry into New York City's prestigious High School of Music & Art and then Queens College, it was Miller's attitude on bass that landed him his first pro gigs with such local talent as Harlem River Drive and keyboardist Lonnie Liston Smith. Still a teenager, he made his first recording with flutist Bobbi Humphrey (Individuals, Columbia) and went on the road with a fellow "Jamaica boy," drummer Lermy White. When Marcus returned, drummer Buddy Williams (his section-mate in Humphrey's band), got him an audition for the Saturday Night Live band. There he met Sanborn, who integrated the bassist into his Voyeur album and subsequent tours. Miller soon began to get calls for jingle and record dates, and he also joined Roberta Flack's band, where he met a backup singer named Luther Vandross. By the time Miles Davis called in 1981, the music world seemed to be unanimously acknowledging that it was, indeed, Miller Time.

It's been more than eight years since your last solo album. Why did you decide to do another one now?

I wanted to make a bass album along, but I didn't t have the compositional skills early on. Soundwise, it's hard to put things under a bass, and the material has to be very strong to make the whole concept work. My first two albums were basically vocaloriented R&B on which I got to CO-produce and play all of the instruments myself. That was invaluable because it helped to launch my producing career, but after the second one I realized I hadn't found my own identity, so I decided to hold off for a while. Gradually, through working with Miles, Luther Vandross, and David Sanborn, I developed confidence. Finally, about two years ago, I started thinking of compositions for a bass project, and the ideas came pretty fast. Then it was a matter of finding some time and waiting for people to be available. The actual recording took about six months.

Why did you call it The Sun Don't Lie?

The message to listeners is that this album exposes the real me and my true musical direction. The message to myself is that I've finally reached a point as a writer and artist where I can let the sun shine on me without having to hide behind someone else's project. Last year, right after I started recording, I was asked to put together a group for the Live Under The Sky concert series in Japan. That allowed me to work on material and solidify ideas for the album with a band that included Joe Sample, [vocalist] Lalah Hathaway, (drummer) Poogie Bell l, (guitarist) Dean Brown, and (saxophonist) Everette Harp, all of whom appear on various tracks.

Your bass is very prominent throughout, yet it doesn't overpower the material.

At first I was afraid of making a typical "bass album" with the bass being the loudest thing, so I brought it down in the mix. But after living with those tapes for a week, I decided to turn the bass back up so that everything I played would be heard, because I knew that would be the focus. We recorded in New York, L.A., and at my home studio in New Jersey. I used my '74 Jazz Bass and my fretted and fretless Sadowskys, and I recorded them direct into the board. The only times I used more than one bass per tune was on the title cut, where I switched between fretted and fretless, and on "Funny," where I overdubbed my 5-string F Bass.

The melody on the opening track, "Panther," reminds me of Stanley Clarke.

I tried playing it with my thumb, and when I switched to my fingers for a bit more articulation and speed, the sound paled in comparison. I knew the only way to combine both approaches was to move my fingers closer to the neck and pluck very hard to get that popping sound. I wasn't trying to sound like Stanley, but he was certainly an important influence. At the time, to hear a young black musician come out of nowhere with such amazing technique and that aggressive bass-in-your-face sound was an inspiration.

What other bassists had an impact on you?

Robert "Kool" Bell, James Jamerson, Rocco Prestia, and all the Jacksons-Jermaine, Paul, and Anthony. I got into slapping through Larry Graham during his Graham Central Station period. In my neighborhood, if you couldn't play like Larry, you might as well put the bass down. We used to have slap competitions on a little cafeteria stage in high school to attract girls. When fusion hit and piqued my interest, I was fortunate to have a friend, (drummer) Kenny Washington, who sat me down and played me the history of jazz, which put things in perspective. That got me into upright players like Paul Chambers, Sam Jones, Ron Carter, and Eddie Gomez. Then Jaco came out and blew my mind. He had it all covered; I left his first album (Jaco Pastorius, Epic) on my turntable for two years and learned every solo note-for-note. But without a true knowledge of harmony, I had no idea what the notes meant. Jaco's playing and writing were like a wake-up call; it led me to study bebop, which really got my harmony together.

"Steveland" is a moving, melodic tribute to Stevie Wonder, again featuring a plucked bass melody. Are you also tapping in the introduction?

Yes. I used my right index finger and two left-hand fingers to tap and hammer a little passage up on the G string of my Jazz Bass. That's a technique I picked up from (guitarist) Hiram Bullock. There's also a Stevieish Wurlitzer bass line on the bottom; he's such a huge influence on anyone who writes, plays, or sings. I think the more you listen to the melodies and the mood of the solos played by Wayne Shorter, Jonathan Butler, and David Sanborn, the more Stevie comes across on the track.

How did you get your start as a composer?

I used to watch my cousin, Denzil Miller, write for a local band we were in, Harlem River Drive, and I just assumed you weren't a complete musician unless you wrote your own material. Later, when I met Sanborn in the SNL Band, I gave him a demo of some fusion tunes I'd written and he asked to record them. Shortly afterward, I began writing vocal demos with Luther Vandross; he's so talented I was able to gain a lot of insight. What I always try to do when I write for another artist is see his face in my mind. If I can envision him moving to the music, then I know it's appropriate. It was difficult trying to use that method for my songs on this album, though, since it's hard to get an objective view of yourself.

On "Juju,'' you combined sequenced bass with real bass, which is something you've often done with Luther Vandross and on other commercial projects. What's your take on synth bass?

It doesn't really bother me; I view it as a separate sound from electric bass, which is why I combine the two a lot. It's the same with drums: I like to program whatever feels good into a drum machine and then combine that with a real drummer. The two together are interesting and reflect what's happening today. But everything goes in cycles, and the trend towards real bass will come back-maybe soon. I've been trying to create keyboard-bass sounds with my basses; that's what I was going for when I overdubbed the 5-string F Bass, played with a pick, on "Funny."

"Funny, " as well as your cover of "Ain't No Sunshine,"feature your lead vocals. As a producer who has worked with so many singers, do you find yourself monitoring your own voice as you sing, or do you just go for it?

I just go for a take; then I listen back and maybe fix something. I wrote "Funny" with Boz Scaggs for his album Other Roads (Columbia); after I performed it in Japan, I decided to record it. "Ain't No Sunshine" was the first song I ever played on bass in front of an audience. I used to sing it at the end of the Jamaica Boys concerts, and I also sang it in Japan. It's really just an excuse for drum and bass solos.

The bass clarinet, which you use on"Round Midnight" and five other tracks, seems to have become your alternative voice.

Yeah, it's funny. When I first played it for Miles during the Tutu sessions, he said, "Hey, man, you found your instrument." I went, "Wait a minute!" But I knew what he meant. I played BS clarinet from when I was ten until college. About four years ago, my wife heard me talking about bass clarinet, so she got me one; amazingly, I remembered all of the fingerings. It's a hard, unforgiving instrument, but once you get it, it has the same rich register as a man's voice, and it has a higher range than many people think.

Was "Rampage" written for Miles?

Only the little section where he played. I built the track around that and later brought in Sal Marquez to play some additional trumpet. I thought (Living Colour guitarist and drummer) Vernon Reid and Will Calhoun would be perfect for the tune, and fortunately they were able to come in and do it.

How would you sum up your relationship with Miles?

Miles was like a musical father to me. In 1980, I was booked to play on a session for him, but he never showed up. A year later, during a country date, I got a note saying, "Call Miles." He answered the phone and asked me to meet him at CBS Studios in an hour. I went in and introduced myself and played with everybody for a while without much being said. When we were finished, he asked me to join his band. Early on, he occasionally gave me a hard time, but he was always very supportive and proud of my session career. He used to tell his girlfriend, "This is Marcus Miller. He drives a BMW." Eventually, as we grew together musically, he placed entire projects in my hands, which was incredibly scary yet extremely encouraging. In retrospect, I would say that my bass style solidified on The Man with the Horn, and my composing took giant strides beginning with Tutu.

You used to play Jaco's "Teentown" slapstyle as a lead-in to the commercial breaks on David Sanborn's Night Music show. Were you aware of the buzz you were creating among bassists?

Yes, and that's why I included "Teentown" on the album. I wanted to cut it live, since the focus is on the energy and musicianship. You should have seen the studio that day: there were drums everywhere for Omar Hakim, Steve Ferrone, Andy Narrell, Don Alias, and Paulinho Da Costa. We stuck to the original arrangement, except we opened it up in the middle for Hiram Bullock's guitar solo, which is where I switched to fingers.

As a slapper, you've developed a reputation for having a clear sound and for using mostly your thumb with only the occasional pop.

I strike the strings right in front of the chrome neck-pickup cover, not at the bottom of the neck where you get all the overtones. A lot of times I don't pluck (i.e., pop) at all. That developed during my jingle days, because I found that using my thumb was the best way to hear the bass coming out of a tiny TV speaker. Plus, if you use two alternating fingers, as I do when I play fingerstyle, there's always a strong note followed by a weak one; with the thumb, every note is strong. That became really important when I started doubling sequenced keyboard-bass parts. Then I began challenging myself to see if I could develop the speed to play entire charts using only my thumb. I still add plucks whenever they're necessary, as they were on "Teentown." But I think a lot of players tend to overuse them. The plucks are just accents, afterthoughts-the funk is in the thumb.

Your muting technique surfaces throughout this record and figures prominently on David Sanborn's latest disc, Upfront.

That started when I was 21 and playing in (percussionist) Ralph MacDonald's rhythm section with (drummer) Steve Gadd, (keyboardist) Richard Tee, and (guitarist) Eric Gale, doing jingles and backing people like (saxmen) Grover Washington Jr. and Sadao Watanabe. Eric doubled on electric bass before me, and one day Ralph put on a track they'd done and said, "C'mere kid. Here's what a bass should sound like." I imitated it and he was thrilled. The way I do it is by muting the strings with my right palm near the bridge and plucking with my thumb. Sometimes I'll use a pick if I want more speed. You can also get a decent upright sound with muting.

Let's talk about your left-hand technique, especially with regard to intonation on the fretless.

Playing a 4-string requires a lot of handposition changes; fortunately, studying bebop helped me to get up and down the neck. I'm basically a one-finger-per-fret guy. As far as the fretless goes, it's important to stick with one instrument and find where the pressure points on your fingers are in relation to the notes on the neck. Beyond that you just have to keep putting in time, really using your ears. I'll check myself with open strings, but it's always a battle-especially when you play with other instruments that use tempered tunings, like keyboards.

On the bebop middle section of your tribute to Miles, "The King Is Gone," you play the first chorus of your fretless solo muted, almost as if you're paying tribute to Paul Chambers as well.

That's right. For me, the bass player with Miles was Paul Chambers, especially at a tempo like the one on this tune. People think of him mainly as a groovemaster, but check out his bowed solo on "Moment's Notice" (on John Coltrane's Blue Train, Blue Note). Coltrane handed him the changes and they recorded it! He's the cat as far as I'm concerned. He doesn't get his due.

Who are your some of your favorite bassists today?

I don't get to hear that many players, but the guy I really like is Pino Palladino. Doug Wimbish is wicked. John Patitucci is bad, and so is Victor Wooten. And Anthony Jackson, of course. There seem to be a lot of new ways to play the bass, but not a lot of new musical ideas resulting from them. That's kind of a shame, but it's also a good opportunity for someone to step in.

When you talk to young players, do you stress the importance of playing grooves ?

No. Telling young players they have to play grooves is like telling painters they have to use blue. You have to encourage beginners to do whatever turns them on, because that's what they're going to do best. When they get a bit older, you can tell them the realities of the music business-that there are more opportunities to work if they learn to function as a bass player. The important thing is to listen to as much music as possible. The young ear is naturally drawn to the high frequencies played by solo bassists, but if you listen to a lot of groove players, you'll get caught up in that as well . Ultimately, you should be able to lay down the baddest groove and blow the hottest solo.

In the future, do you see yourself continuing to branch out in new directions, such as film music, or will you concentrate on your established projects?

I'm one of those people who has to have five things going at once. I need to feel like I'm pushing my limits. So I guess the answer is both. I think I can create some interesting alternative music through film, and I've also got some record projects in mind. Right now I'd like to establish my solo career again with periodic albums. But no matter what other roles I fill, I've always considered myself a bassist and a musician first-one who enjoys exposing different kinds of music to all different kinds of people. That will never change.