Monty Alexander Interview

Monty Alexander Interview

Part 1: Jazz Beginnings and Miami Days

[0:00 - 1:04] [Music: “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” - Light upbeat jazz piano accompanied by acoustic bass, soft percussion, and background audience applause]

Blaise Lantana: That is Monty Alexander, I've Got You Under My Skin, Monty Alexander, pianist, and he is here in the studio with me to talk about his music. And he is going to be performing on May the 26th—by the way, Miles Davis' birthday—at the MIM, the Musical Instrument Museum here in Phoenix. And you can find out more about that, how to get tickets, where it's located, and all that information is on our website, jazzphx.org. I'm Blaise Lantana and I'm glad to have you here with us, Monty, talking a little bit about your music.

Monty Alexander: I'm happy to be with you today, and fond memories of, uh, yesterdays and todays, actually.

Blaise: You know, you started so young. You had so much happen so young. I mean, you were, you were only, I think, 18 when you, when you were playing in the clubs in Miami, or even younger.

Monty: That's right, that's right. But as far as, you know, I am from Kingston, Jamaica. Born and raised in Kingston. And from when I'm four years old, I started playing the piano, and I noticed that the people liked it when I was playing and I was having fun playing the piano. My mother would say, "Go play that song or that song," and I would, I, I was literally—the word is entertain, because I was, I enjoyed it.

And there I was growing up in Jamaica, typical kid, you know, going to school, and couldn't stand school, by the way, in respect because I would sneak out of school and go be with the older musicians, which is how I learned music. I didn't learn it in school. I never went to school. I don't read no music. I just was, had this gift thing.

So my beginnings in, in Jamaica, I started to be playing on the old early recordings of what was called Ska, Jamaica Ska. And I played the rhythm on the piano from 14 years old. And um, with the older musicians that were my heroes, you know. I didn't want to be with my age group. I thought they were not too sharp, right? So, that was, that was, that was my beginning.

And then one day, my mother said in the year 1961, "We're going to America." I said, "Yeah, let's go to America." And we went to Miami, Florida. My mother knew some good people there and gave us a help along the way. We stayed in an apartment on Miami Beach. And I started playing the piano. All these bars, which were a lot of them operated by the gangsters, no, no kidding.

So I learned my trade of music being in those kinds of places. That was where the tough guys were, literally. And I will tell you bluntly and frankly, you used to see the hookers there, the pimps there, the, the wise guys there. And um, and the main thing you had to do was not play beautiful music, you got to rock the joint, you got to swing. And, and that's what happened when I met Mr. Sinatra. I met Frank and, and his friend Jilly. So, long story about that. So, uh, anyhow, my beginnings are were all all ordered by the creator of the universe. I, I had very little to do with it, I just went along and, and that's been my story ever since.

Part 2: Meeting Frank Sinatra and Miles Davis

Blaise: So when they heard you play, were you doing um, were you doing the American Songbook, or were you doing music of Jamaica? Were you doing, what, jazz?

Monty: I don't even know what I was doing. I just know that when I started playing, there was that passion, that feeling of like excitement and upliftment, and you know, most people sitting there hear me play, they start snapping their fingers, or if I play a calypso song, they grooving like that. So, my thing was just to play and have fun. And that fun, that thing about when you're enjoying yourself, it's um, infectious, you know.

And people say, "Hey, who's this kid?" You know, I had a lot of hair. And um, I was, I was, that's what I was doing. And, and one, you know, and um, in fact, um, some a lady came over to me and say, "Hey kid, come here." I was just turning 18. And, "So, where you learned to play?" And I said, "Yeah, here and there and everything." And she said, "I want you to meet somebody." And she took me to meet her husband, who was Jilly. And Jilly was Sinatra's best, best, best friend. He was the brother Frank never had. And they saw me playing.

And that's how I got to New York. The, these folks sent me an airline ticket, and I came to New York in the summer of 1962. And there I was at this little place where all these showbiz people, including Judy Garland, including, uh, Quincy Jones, including, uh, Basie, and there, and Sinatra was the king. When Frank said, "This is this," everybody's, "Yeah, that's, that's it." And so I'm there with Sinatra. And I mean, I wasn't buddy-buddy, but he, he, you know, he said, "Kid, keep on swinging." And I said, "Yeah, okay." And um, that was really my, my history. But um, it's unforgettable. And um, and I came to New York...
Blaise: Did you meet, did you meet some of the jazz players there as well? Did you meet like, cuz later you worked with Ray Brown, and you also—yeah, did you get to know Miles? Did he come in?

Monty: Uh, let me tell you. Miles came in there one night with a couple of attractive ladies sitting at the piano bar. At the piano bar, I, I hated the piano bar because it's people right up in front of you. And you're not there to be the feature, you're just part of the place, right? And I must have been doing some swinging, I guess. And I had my wonderful friend, the bass player, Bob Cranshaw, who was great friends with Ray Brown. That's how I met Ray. And um, I think Mickey Roker was his name, the drummer. And these are the real mensch musicians. These guys, not, they didn't go to college and high school—no, no, no. They come there to bring that spirit of this music.

And, and, and Cranshaw leans over and says, "Hey, Miles is at the piano bar." And I looked up and sure enough, there's Miles Davis in his pin-striped suit, sharp, dressed to the nines, as we used to say. I got through playing my little set there, must have been doing some swinging, and he comes over to me and just like Honey Rizzo had said, "Where you learn to play that?" I said, "I don't know." Next thing you know, the man wrote down his phone number on a matchbook, them little matchbooks, and he said, "Come on my house."

And I started hanging out. I used to go to the house, go to the apartment, 87th, I think, and West End Avenue. And I kept going and I kept going, and I, I have so many memories of just being in the presence of Miles Davis, who was a definitely a character of all, I mean, he was this great, innovative musician. And I used to say like me, I have this sense myself about music, you can get bored after a while. You get bored with that band, and he say, and things happen and he changed the band. And you get bored after three years, he jump—really, that was a restless spirit. I got some of that condition, too, because I'm happy and I'm playing, hey, I got to change, got to keep something.

So, we, I really got to know Miles, and um, memories of his, uh, his, his behavior, you know, a character. And I mean, he, he'd say things that offended people, but I think he was a very shy man, and he covered up that shyness with a kind of a, an aggressive behavior.

Blaise: Bravado, kind of, yeah.

Monty: Exactly. They like to say, "Keep off of me," you know. And I, and I noticed that he, he had a way of being um, uh, unfriendly and, but he liked Monty. You know, he, he used to say, "Come here, come here, I want you to play something on the piano." And, "Yeah, okay." And he, I go down to the, this basement where he had a punching bag, when you box up, when you were a boxer.

And his friend Gil Evans came over to the apartment. There's Gil, right? Then he, he said, "Monty, come here, play something." And I went down to the, the piano, this little up-a, spinet, upright piano, I said, "What, what do you want me to play, Miles?" He said, "Start to play me something." And he must have snapped his finger, and, and he's standing behind me, and it was a, said quite a moment, because all I heard, he was talking to Gil Evans, this great orchestrator, arranger, and all I hear him say was, "See what I mean?" Meaning, I'm doing something that Miles liked when I played, because he was very particular about his, his musicians, very particular.

And this is just about the time he engaged wonderful, brilliant Herbie Hancock. So Herbie's there, and this just about the same time I said, "I, I want to know what's this about." So, and he said to me, "What you're going to be doing next week?" I said, "Well, I'm going to make a record." It was like my third, fourth album at RCA Victor. He said, "What, what you're, what, where you going to play?" I said, "I'm going to make this record." And this man literally, and it sounds lofty, he said to me, "Let me produce it." Wow. And, but here's a, here what happened. Because I'm a stubborn kid as from Jamaica. If people said to me do this or do that, I would freeze, I would freeze, I would cramp, clamp, because all I know is what I figured out myself. Right. That's, that's why I'm self-taught. And I, and I, and I never really acknowledged this, this man. I, I never said anything, and literally, I ran away.

Blaise: (Laughter)

Monty: Because he had it in his mind that I could have been this or that, you know, and um, it's a very flattering thing to have Miles Davis. And it was the same thing having met Miles and all these great, great musicians accepting me, who had just come from Jamaica like a year and a half before that. So I'm, I'm supposed to be a, you know, coconut guy, of bananas, I don't know, but...

Part 3: Harlem-Kingston Express and Rasta Monk Vibrations

Blaise: Right, right, but you were a jazz guy pretty early on. I want to, I want to play uh, from your Harlem-Kingston Express. Now, this was Harlem-Kingston Express Live, and uh, you've got Yotam Silberstein on this with you. Here's Monty Alexander at the piano. Talking with Monty Alexander, we're going to hear him do No Woman, No Cry. You might know that tune, but you really don't once you hear Monty do it, it's a whole other experience. And Monty Alexander is going to be performing at the MIM, May the 26th. By the way, Miles Davis' birthday, he's going to be here at the MIM. You can find out how to get tickets and more information by checking our website, and that is jazzphx.org. Here's Monty Alexander on Jazz PHX.

[6:52 - 7:51] [Music: "No Woman, No Cry" performed live. Slow-tempo, soulful jazz interpretation of the reggae classic on piano, transitioning into a steady bassline with soft cymbal crashes and audience applause]

Blaise: Monty Alexander at the piano there doing No Woman, No Cry. That's from his Harlem-Kingston Express Live, and that's because, you know, he came from Kingston, Jamaica, made his way to Harlem, and the rest is history. And I'm talking with Monty today because he's performing at the MIM, the Musical Instrument Museum, and the show is on May the 26th. You can find out how to get tickets and more about the event on our website, Jazz PHX.

And Monty is here with me in the studio, we're talking a little bit about his music, and I got a kick out of this. Now, you talked about going to meeting all these people, you were so young, and it's just wild how you were able to make your way through all that because it's like you said, when you're 18 years old, you have an attitude, you think nobody can tell you anything. Anyway, this is interesting to me because you did something called Rasta Monk Vibrations, where you thought Thelonious Monk could be seen as a Rastaman. And how did you come to that conclusion?

Monty: Well, thank you for that good question. I met Thelonious Monk in an elevator. I mean, we didn't meet, but there I was, just me and Monk, and he went over to the elevator buttons, you know, to the floor of the apartment building was like the 30th floor, right? We're on the 22nd floor, and I had a friend there on the 22nd floor. He lived down the hall, and we, he gets into the, the elevator, I get, and I must have just grunted, and he went, uh. And, and, and he stood in front of the elevator buttons, and this is, I press L for the lobby, and Thelonious Monk pressed maybe—I don't exact what numbers it was—he said, "Two and three is five." We go to the fifth floor, the third floor, the second floor.

Blaise: (Laughter)

Monty: And I don't know why, and then we go to the lobby, I get out in the lobby, and he stays in the elevator and he presses, "Seven and two is nine." Because he was playing calculator on the elevator buttons, and I said, "Man, that guy, that guy, get really different." So, so the feeling that this man, a big guy that he was, was wearing a heavy wool coat and it was like 95 degrees in New York, and he was sweating, you know, and um, he was, I can, I can, the only word I can come up with is really eccentric. He's walking and he used to make these little movements, and I went to see him play at the Five Spot, and the way he would move with his musicians, he had his quartet, you know, and, and I, you know, you almost were laughing because he was such a, something about him was so funny.

But I realized, seriously, that it was the onset, and I'm saying this now, and I think they've written about it, it was the onset of schizophrenia, literally. And if there's, there's film where you see Thelonious spinning around in an airport in Scandinavia, and I said, "What was that?" You know? So Thelonious was writing songs, these different tunes that came from a different angle. Like I used to say, when most guys would be playing down the keys of the piano with that certain flare, Monk was playing up, you know, he just was opposite to a lot of things. So, when his sense of rhythm was different, and um, I, I smiled when I saw him play.

But anyhow, to me, he behaved kind of like a—and I used to see the Rasta guys in Jamaica, and this is like when I'm seven years old. And a musician I said, "You ever hear Thelonious Monk play the piano?" I said, "Not really," and I heard this way of playing, it wasn't a sophisticated or anything, but it was just raw. And for some reason, it made me think of how the Rasta people were in Jamaica: raw roots, Africa, the whole thing. And um, his sense of rhythm, not unlike something you might hear in reggae. I just sense it. And I come up with this crazy idea that Thelonious was really a Rasta. And I, and I, and I made this record where I took some of his songs and put what we call the one-drop. One-drop is the rhythm the drummer plays on certain reggae songs, and, and that's how the thing came about, Rasta Monk Vibrations. Well, let's...

Part 4: Reggae Rhythms and Jamaican Culture

Blaise: ...well, let's listen to this. This is Monty Alexander at the piano, and he's got Ron Blake on the tenor sax. We're going to hear Byya, and this is from the album, Wareika Hill, is that what it's, is that how you say it?

Monty: Waerika, and that's a little, little roadway going up to the hill where I lived. And that's where the Rastafarians would go, burn the firewood and pray to Jah, literally. You heard the drum beating, I heard that music, I said, "Man, this, this is serious," because I always, I like all kind of music, music from the people, the folks. But also I hear the European, like Rachmaninoff kind of music, I said, "Wow, listen to that." So all music taps into my joyful place. I mean it, you know, so I don't like to say I'm a jazz musician, I'm just a musician, you know. And um, anyhow, blah, blah.

Blaise: (Laughter) Let's listen to Wareika Hill. This is Rasta Monk Vibrations. We're going to hear Thelonious Monk's Bye-ya, played by Monty Alexander. Monty Alexander is performing at the MIM, the Musical Instrument Museum. He's going to be there, and you can find out more about that on our website at jazzphx.org. Here's Monty Alexander.

[13:46 - 15:02] [Music: "Bye-Ya" from the album Rasta Monk Vibrations. Upbeat, infectious mid-tempo reggae rhythm dominated by off-beat piano chords, a grooving bassline, crisp drums, and a prominent tenor saxophone melody line]

Blaise: That's Monty Alexander doing Bye-ya from his Waerika Hill album, Rasta Monk Vibrations, doing Thelonious Monk's music with a reggae beat. And that beat is so infectious. I mean, you all over the world. So when you started doing, this was later you started doing these um, the Harlem-Kingston Express, the Wareika Hill, you started using more of the Jamaican flavor in the jazz recordings. Did you get a, a response from that from people who were excited by it?

Monty: Look at here, you, you are responding with that beautiful smile right now. I see, I can see you. And um, it's about bringing some, something different but also something that taps into your place of pleasure, you know what I mean? And I just had the idea and I did it, you don't know how things are going to turn out, but I've gathered some great guys to come play with me who would also enjoy this way of playing as well as each other's company. So we having, we having a good time. And by the way, Byya was a tune written by Denzil Best. Denzil Best was a drummer and a friend of Thelonious.

And the thing about um, he was from Barbados, Caribbean, like a lot of, by the way, a lot of Jamaicans, a lot of the musicians in jazz back in the '40s like around Charlie Parker and Miles and those people, they were from the Caribbean. They were West Indians. Like later, some of the islands were British, not so much the Latino islands like Puerto Rico, Cuba, that, that was there too. But the British islands, Barbados, Jamaica, Trinidad, a lot of them came to America and they morphed, they got into the jazz thing among them, Roy Haynes, Randy Weston.

Oscar Peterson's people were from Barbados. I mean, really, so this is a great—Virgin Islands, Sonny Rollins, you know what I mean? And Sonny, I knew him, you know, he would tell me that that he and Thelonious, they would go to Madison Square Garden to see Sugar Ray Robinson box as buddies. They were friends.

So this music was a part of the Jamaican life because it came from the island calypso music and that rhythm, like when you think of Harry Belafonte and his music that he gave the world, it kind of blended into this folk Jamaican music, rhythm and blues. And it all just was like a, a hybrid, you know, it's all a mistake. It's a bunch of mistakes, and the next thing you know, the people are dancing when they hear this thing that they, they identify with, and it became bit by bit this sensational thing where people are dancing to what we call Ska, because it's, it's in the music here, Ska, Ska, Ska, Ska, and Ska, and that became a, a staple, right? And then it morphed into the thing called Rocksteady, and then it went into the, what all the different names, you know. And in fact, it's like the word jazz, who en- that invented that word, you know. It actually was a French word for, for the battle, or something like that, I heard that.

So it's um, it's a profound thing, but indeed, if I'm in somewhere in the world, whether I'm in Estonia or in, or in Morocco, it doesn't matter, and they say, "Where you from?" I say, "Jamaica," the first word that come out of their mouth is Bob Marley, because he changed, he changed people's hearts and minds. This guy was a, this Bob another man like very short guy, the same height of Sinatra, the same height like Miles Davis, you know, kind of my size too, you know, little people, but we do, we do big things, yes we do. And um, all this to say that Jamaica's infectious rhythm captured the world and not only that, these words are inspirational. Bob was reading his Bible, Old Testament, and, and a lot of those songs are biblical truths, and Exodus, for example.


So, yeah, reggae, but it's when we talk about swinging, what Duke Ellington made happen when he would with his orchestra or Count Basie, you hear the sting with it, if you're not tapping your feet, maybe you're not alive, you know what I mean? And that's what happened when these great men were swinging. We used to call it swinging, the music is great, but then there's this other element where you, you're moving. And the same condition comes out of Jamaica with this music, because you got to be moving and grooving and you want to get up and dance. So, it's just one, because every time I play, I try to connect to this thing where the rhythm is, is in your spirit. And um, and that's where people start to feel good, you know, because we like to make people feel good when you play.

Part 5: Singing Career and Tribute to Nat King Cole

Blaise: Yes, and I definitely, and by the way, I'm talking with Monty Alexander, if you want to feel good, you can hear him perform at the MIM, the Musical Instrument Museum. Now, you can get information on our website, jazzphx.org. Now I want to ask you about your singing. How did this, how did you make an album of singing? How did you get to be singing? You sing fine, but what, what possessed you to jump into that?

Monty: You know, all this music I'm playing, I'm just remembering how I felt as a kid. When I heard my hero of heroes singing, Nat King Cole, as, as well as, of course, Sinatra. So it was Nat Cole, started with Bing Crosby, and I'm hearing Bing, uh, Nat, and my mother loved Nat King Cole, we had all these records of, of Nat King Cole. So I'm, I'm just like what, seven years old, and I'm walking down the street coming from school and I'm singing, "Unforgettable, that's what you..." you know? So I'm thinking, man, I love singing because by, by the way, a big part of the music when I play is the melody. You know, you can go off into all these notes and this and that's fine, but make that melody come alive. Play those words that you hear when you hear these songs, right?

So I had Nat Cole in my heart the whole time growing up. When I'm playing a ballad, I'm thinking of Nat King Cole, thinking. So, one day, I guess my, my ego said, "You know what? Why not have a crack at the vocal thing?" And by the way, I, eight, uh, (laughter), your guy said to me, "You're not King Cole, not Nat King Cole, you are not King Cole." So, but I said, let me have a go at this, and I sang a couple of songs, one of them The Nearness of You, and I had fun doing it, but that's not my career by any means. And it's just, I just did it and seemed like a few people liked it.

Blaise: So are you going, you think you're going to sing at this concert coming up? Do you ever sing at your concerts, or not?

Monty: Once in a while, once in a while, I might do something for 10 seconds like, "Day-o!" (laughter). I might do that, and people go, "Day-o." But no, seriously speaking, I like it and every now and then I say, "You know what? I hope I can remember the words to whatever song," and I'll sing, "You are my sunshine, my only sun..." whatever the song is, you know, because I'm not a good word rememberer. Words, you got to keep on, and that's why these great singers, they have to learn all these words, it's like the actors in the movies, they got to look at, study the, the script, the whole thing.

So, I'm playing the piano, and I guess I'm distracted with the piano, so, so that's what made Nat King Cole, and Blossom Dearie, and Shirley Horn, and these people that when they played and sang at the same time, that was like a really, Diana Krall, when she sings, she's playing, she's singing, she's doing the whole thing so beautifully. And um, that's what, that's what singing is when you, when you master the craft of remembering. The lyric becomes a part of you.

I heard a story that Lester Young, the great tenor player, he didn't just go listen to the records to hear the song, he went, he bought like, he would go out and get to the record shop, get Sinatra's latest record to play the lyrics. He's playing the lyrics, you know, whatever that song is, and, and that's what some people realized that, that they should do. And um, Miles, I think, was that way. He played these songs that were like, you know, Stella by Starlight, what have you, and you, you could feel this man's depth of, uh, spirit when he's playing those ballads, you know. In fact, I asked him once time, I said, "Miles, you like Sinatra?" And he said to me, "I love them ballads." He told me that, you know. So I remember when these masters of our music, whether it was Duke, Sinatra, Miles, and others would say things, you know, it just went into my brain, and that's what makes me play, because I remember what these great guys had inspired other people to do. I'm one of them.

Blaise: And, we're going to listen now to Monty Alexander, and this is wonderful, he has Roy Hargrove playing the trumpet on this. We're going to hear The Nearness of You. This is Monty Alexander's album, Love Notes. Monty's going to be playing the piano, we don't know if he's going to sing or not, at the Musical Instrument Museum, the concert is May the 26th. You can still get tickets, and here's Monty Alexander singing to you today on Jazz PHX.

Monty: I'm going, I'm going to buy some tickets to come see Monty Alexander, me, I'm going to buy some. (laughter) Right, but no, thank you very much for this wonderful occasion, Blaise, and um, I'm going to now have to, I'm going to do my Louis Armstrong song, I'm going to say... (mimics gravelly voice).

Blaise: (Laughter) You're welcome. Here's Monty Alexander.

[23:08 - 24:12] [Music: "The Nearness of You" from the album Love Notes. Mid-tempo contemporary jazz arrangement featuring a smooth electric bass groove, gentle percussion, warm piano accompaniment, and Monty Alexander's rich, soft vocals delivering the opening lyrics]

"It's not the pale moon that excites me That thrills and delights me, oh no It's just the nearness of you
It isn't your sweet conversation That brings this sensation, oh no It's just the nearness of you"...

Part 6: Looking Back and the Miracle of Music

Blaise: Monty Alexander singing to you today, that's The Nearness of You, he's playing the piano and he's working with Roy Hargrove on trumpet on that tune. I'm Blaise Lantana, this is KJZZ 91.5 HD2 Phoenix. I'm glad you could find us. We're also at jazzphx.org, and Monty Alexander is here with me in studio talking a little bit about his music and how he made his way. You know, you had such a great start in the beginning, you know, when you went to Miami and then you went up to Harlem and you're playing for all these people, you're becoming a success, and then how does, how does that progress in your life? How do you go on from there? Where do you go next?

Monty: It sounds, I'm sure it sounds like, "Hey, give me a break. Stop talking this nonsense." No, it's not. It's not nonsense because it was all one miracle after another. The kind of miracle that every time something happened or I played well and people liked it, or I met Sinatra and all these people, I had to pinch myself. I say, I'm just a kid from this part of Kingston, Jamaica, had no idea that I could end up being a musician that could earn $2 when I'm playing the piano. I never thought about it. I mean, I, I really did not go to music school, so I just happened to, happened into the whole thing.

And I kind of say sometimes, like halfway kidding, that it's just a bunch of mistakes, mistakes, because, and behind the whole thing, Blaise, this is where I start to say something very serious now, it's all a gift from God, the, the boss of heaven. Just decided that I'm going to give you this gift, kid, and just make sure you don't mess it up, you know. Now, I almost messed it up a bunch of times because life has its challenges, right? And you get bummed out, "I shouldn't have done that, why did I," you know, and um, yet, you know, you pick up and you start all over again, and um, I just feel ongoing a sense of inspiration, and that spirit is something that's so incredible that I, I can look at the piano notes and I start smiling. It's like those notes are smiling back at me. All right, what, what are you going to do now, Monty? And I can, well, I'm going to play a song, and I play me a song and somehow it, most times it comes out pretty good, you know. Yes it does.

It really is a miracle one after another. And I'm absolutely serious, and it's, it's kind of weird when you tell a young uh, student of music who studying their head off to go learn and this and study and study, and I, I'm not taking it for granted, but somehow I, I have good ear, so if you hum a little melody, I can play it on the piano, and then I put some chords and I put the rhythm on it and it's just big fun, big fun, but it's serious fun. It's not no throwaway thing. So I'm just had this really incredible journey thus far, and, and in two weeks, wait minute, few days, I'm a young guy of 82. So let's face it, right? I'm still going, maybe I'm here for another X amount, I don't know.

Blaise: You have a wonderful energy and a spirit, and I, I, you know, when you play, it really does come through. You talk about that, how it comes through, your joy, your heartfelt joy in the, in the music. Now, when you were a kid, did, was there um, who was playing the other music in Jamaica? Like was your mother playing it on the stereo? You said she's listening to Nat King Cole, but how, but how did jazz, more jazz come into those ideas?

Monty: I didn't know what jazz was. Jazz was, I used to say, this jazz stuff is you got to make up, make-up stuff, right? Because for me, it's a melody. I hear these beautiful melodies from the golden era, the show songs from a Broadway, I hear these songs Sinatra singing and everything, and indeed, my mother would sing around the house, she sang the church hymns, yeah, and um, I'm just hearing music, music, music. And then I remember saying, "I want to figure out what this jazz thing is," and you, you know, I would hear records by, and by the way, here's a very important part of my process.

My hero was Louis Armstrong. I saw him in Jamaica. I went to the concert, I snuck out of school, my dad was a part of the plot, we went to the theater and um, I saw Satchmo on the stage, and like, this guy came on the stage and everybody lit up with joy, because that's what he did. He played the trumpet like, forget it, if you talk to Clark Terry, Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis, any of the trumpet players, then 99% of them say the king was Satchmo, right? And he had a way of blowing that horn, and that, that, that I, him and Nat Cole, I saw these men in Jamaica, and I was just, wow, look at that. So that was my biggest inspiration for when it became so-called jazz, because I hear the records and I hear what, you play the melody and it's how you play the melody, and I guess I tapped into making those melodies making those sounds that you were hearing, yeah.

That's right, so, but my mother had the piano, she bought this second-hand upright piano, it was in the house, and as a kid, I just started banging on the darn thing, trying to annoy them, you know, my mother and father. And at the same time, I'm playing Christmas carols and I'm picking out the melodies just by that, and then then I start to put the chords, these chords, and the chords can be like you put, you put syrup on top of the pancakes, you know what I mean? You got the pancake at breakfast and you say, "Yeah, I want to put some syrup, maple syrup," and you put the syrup or you put some, if it's some other kind of something, you put some pepper on it. So this, the chord is just like some, you know, something to make it more delectable, right? Now you can play the chord like raw, or you can put the chord like when you hear, like Johnny Mandel, or Michel Legrand, and I, I tapped into that, you know. So I love those ballads and I love this, the whole thing to me is just a lot of um, fun, you know, it's enjoyable stuff. Right, right, right.

Blaise: Well, I've been talking with Monty Alexander. Thanks for taking the time, Monty, to have a conversation with us here in Phoenix. It's been great talking with you, a real inspiration about all of us finding the joy in life and in our work. Thank you.

Monty: And especially now in our world, we need the joy more than ever. We need a whole lot of joy, right?

Blaise: Yes, that is true, that is so true. Well, Monty Alexander is here, he's going to be performing at the MIM, the Musical Instrument Museum, and that's May the 26th, and you can get tickets to the concert, you can check it out on our website, jazzphx.org. Thanks a lot for coming by, Monty.

Monty: It was really wonderful speaking with you, Blaise, all the best, looking forward to seeing you in a few days.

Blaise: Okay, I'll see you there. All right, thank you, here's Monty Alexander playing The Harder They Come on Jazz PHX.

Monty: All right, bye.

[30:52 - 32:00] [Music: "The Harder They Come". Fast-tempo, joyful jazz-reggae hybrid track driven by a syncopated piano rhythm, energetic bassline, and festive street-beat percussion]