Colonel Bruce Hampton is one of the most vital musicians in the
jamband world. He has been performing music for over 35 years,
and he has lived a thousand lifetimes. He is a man of wisdom,
but he tempers it with a very down to Earth persona. He has a
kind of lighthearted brilliance about him that makes you want to
sit there and talk to him for days. He is also responsible for
shining light on some of the most respected musicians on the scene
today. Oteil Burbridge,
Jimmy
Herring, Rev.
Jeff Mosier, and Jeff Sipe all achieved their initial notoriety
from their association with The Colonel in the seminal jazz-rock-theatrical
band Aquarium Rescue Unit which flourished
in the nineties. The influence of this band is as great today
as it ever was.
The Colonel's influence stretches back to the sixties, when his
bands Four of Nine and the the Hampton
Grease Band each would travel around to stun music audiences
nightly. His recent bands, Fiji
Mariners and Planet
Zambee, brought attention to more impressive musicians, most
notably Dr.
Dan Matrazzo and Barry
Richman.
Colonel Bruce's current band, The Code Talkers, may be the one
to bring him the fame that he has seemed to intentionally avoid
for all these years. I haven't seen them since February, but reports
of their recent performances indicate that this band will be a
force in the second half of this year. Personally, I am particularly
excited about the Colonel's relatively new bandmate Bobby
Lee Rodgers, who is a songwriter that will leave a large mark
on the music world by the time he's done, not to mention a smart
and lively lead banjo/guitar player.
The Colonel truly plays music for the love of it, and he seems
disinterested in, perhaps even aggravated by the fame that comes
along with it. He generously let me pepper him with questions
for as long as I wanted, even though he was about to head out to
the Carolinas for a little vacation.
The
upcoming Code Talkers shows include a rare trip back to Colorado
to perform at the Gothic Theater in Englewood July 6, and the Fox
Theater in Boulder July 8. The band will be joined by Oteil at
these shows, and don't be surprised if other big musicians show
up to play! The Colonel doesn't travel to the other side of the
Mississippi much anymore, so I would *highly* recommend that the
soulful Colorado folks make it out to catch the Colonel's incredible
new band.
RST - I was wondering if the name Code Talkers was influenced
at all by the Navajo Indians who developed a code for our soldiers
during...
CBH - ...No, not at all. But that's been said by everybody who
has asked. It has nothing to do with it. It's a code we've established
when we talk in the van. It's like a language we have of our own.
I mean you just get mental illness after you spend two weeks together
or a week together. Most bands become mentally ill, and you start
talking in code. Everything has a code. It just is our own way
of speaking.
RST - I find it interesting nonetheless that when I read about
these Navajo Indians known as "Code Talkers" and I find out that
subtle shifts in nasality, tone, and pitch were used to affect
the meaning of their codes, kind of like what happens when you're
singing.
CBH - It's actually rather oblique stuff, and it's just sort of
like our inside joke. But that's interesting, I don't know that
much about them other than what people have told me.
RST - Well you didn't know much about Fiji before the Fiji
Mariners, maybe you'll.
CBH - Right! (laughs) You know they're having a war there now.
RST - One last thing on the Navajos before we move on, you
are known for your nicknames.
CBH - I'm the master of that; I do one thing well on this planet
and that's give good nicknames. Most people think Oteil's a nickname,
that's what I find hilarious.
RST - His parents get credit for that one!
CBH - Yeah, his parents gave him that one (laughs), but everybody
says I made it up which I feel honored about.
RST - Well the Navajo's four rules for code words could just
as easily be rules for your nicknames.
CBH - Tell me, tell me, tell me.
RST - The first is that they must have a logical connection
to the actual word. They also must be unusually descriptive or
creative to make memorization easier. The third is that they must
be short.
CBH - Yep
RST - And the fourth they must avoid words that are confused
with others.
CBH - Wow, I love that!
RST - So, where did you find Cheryl Renee (an amazing singer
who has performed with Code Talkers recently)?
CBH - She's in the Super Choir. She mostly does gospel music.
She's unknown to much of the world, but to me she's the greatest
singer who ever lived bar none. She's just it. The Super Choir
is *the* great gospel choir, led by Reverend Oliver Wells. I mean
they tear down roofs. Houses tumble when they sing.
RST - Will she come on the road with you?
CBH - No, not until later. She's got kids; it's just too hard
for her to tour right now. It's also too hard for us; we're traveling
in a van. We don't have the space right now. Later on, in the
fall or something when the record comes out, we'll get her to do
a lot of Southern dates.
RST - And then there's Nick Buda.
CBH - Nick Buda, yeah, better known as Zito.
RST - Did you dub him that?
CBH - Yeah, that's his nickname.
RST - He's from Capetown, South Africa?
CBH - Yeah, He's from Capetown, South Africa via Boston (chuckles).
RST - Did you find him in the Boston music scene?
CBH - No actually Bobby Lee Rodgers found him. He had been in
Boston for about four years and Bobby knew of him.
RST - From his Berklee days?
CBH - Right.
RST - And "Trombetta The Coconut Man" is that another nickname
you came up with?
CBH - Yeah, and his real name is Ted Pecchio. He was playing
in the funk scene. He's played with Bernie Worrell and a bunch
of other folks.
RST - And of course Reggie, (Wooten, guitarist and older brother
of Victor) is he going to play more with you or was that just a
"one off?"
CBH - Yep, he's going to play more with us, just when he's available.
He's one of the masters of guitar, if not *the* master of guitar.
He taught Victor Wooten, Jimmy Herring, and Oteil Burbridge.
RST - And like Jimmy, he can play very fast without sounding
gratuitous, and still play clean.
CBH - Yes, he plays fast... blinding speed! Yeah.
RST - I am knocked over impressed with mate Bobby Lee Rodgers. I had no idea
he worked with Sting, when did he do that?
CBH - I don't know the years. He also worked with McCoy Tyner
and The Heath Brothers. I don't know the years, but I think he
played a number of gigs with him. I don't think he worked with
Sting on a regular basis.
RST - How many Bobby Lee songs are currently in the Code Talker
rotation?
CBH - We're trying to use all of 'em! We got about twenty of
mine, and we're learning' all of his which number in the fifties.
We're rehearsing them every day and we've recorded almost all of
his songs. I made him record them. I said, 'man, you're the best
songwriter in the United States. We need all of these recorded.'
I've recorded 13 albums, I want all of *your* stuff. I'll do one
or two, maybe. But I want this album to be his album. I want
to introduce the world to this guy. It's just crazy that he's
not heard. He's one of the best songwriters of the world right
now.
RST - He uses imagery very well.
CBH - He sure does! He's also not as oblique as I am. I like
the communication in his tunes. They are just simple and beautiful,
and (a word that we hasten to use in the year 2000), melodic! It
seems melody left in about 1973, and went somewhere. I don't know
where it went. I just don't hear melody in anything anymore, and
he certainly has tons of it.
RST - How much do the Code Talkers improvise on stage?
CBH - There's improvisation inside the tunes. We're a jazz band
masquerading as a rock band. We might do a solid hour of just
improvisation at times, and then there might be none for an hour.
It depends on the tune and the structure of the tune. They're
different every day no matter what. We try to set different tempos
and change the key a lot - just keep it fresh every day. But to
me, I'd be satisfied with doin' one note and one chord. I'd never
get bored. One note's all right with me, if everybody would be
into it.
RST - As long as it's coming from the right place, right?
CBH - Right, time, space, tone, and intention is music to me.
If you can "drop the brick" right, and catch the moment of "dropping
the brick" then you've done it.
RST - I think intention is everything, there's an intangible
there that is vital to how a performance hits me. There are some
nights I walk out of show, and a group has moved me, and I'm not
sure why, and I wasn't expecting the artist to have such a profound
effect on me. The only thing I can point my finger to is that
there must be some purity to what they're doing.
CBH - Yeah, it's the intention. I know groups that aren't that
good, but their intention kills me! I'd rather go see them than
a "good group." Just 'cause they have intention. I won't name names.
RST - I won't put you on the spot. Let's shift gears and go
back in time. Do you have any memories of Four of Nine?
CBH - I have memories, it was thirty-seven years ago. There
were six people in it, and that's where I started in the music
business. We were wild and crazy teenagers, completely insane.
We drove an unmarked police car with a painting on the side of it,
and it was pulling a trailer with garbage cans nailed to it. We
would nail band members to the back of it and they would ride in
it. It had a thousand coats of paint on it. This is pre-Beatles
and pre-hippies and we wore eye patches and orange Day-Glo jackets.
Nobody knew quite what to think. It was the Electric Kool-Aid
Acid Test years before it happened. And there was no acid involved
either.
RST - Did you and the guitar player from that band conceive
the Hampton
Grease Band together?
CBH - More or less. He was to me the leader of it. His name
is Harold Kelly. He's the one that pulled me into this stuff.
He saw me out playing basketball every day in a sport coat. It
had a yellow sleeve painted. He just thought I was the weirdest
guy he had ever seen. He just said, "Man you want to come sing?"
And it was like asking you if you want to go do brain surgery.
RST - I've heard that The Grateful Dead opened for Hampton
Grease Band once, is this true?
CBH - There was a show with The Allman Brothers, The Grateful
Dead, and The Hampton Grease Band. I think we were all billed basically
together.
RST - But you took the stage after The Dead performed, right?
CBH - Man, it's been over 32 years, I can't remember to be honest.
We probably went on first, they were a little bit known at the
time. I know there were no more than 500 people there though.
It was like three bucks a head, and it went on for like 12 or 14
hours.
RST - Do you remember what the venue was?
CBH - Yeah, oh exactly, it was The Sports Arena. That was on
Chester Avenue in Atlanta. Long since gone.
RST - How do you think The Hampton Grease Band would be received
if it had hit the music scene today as opposed to when it did?
CBH - Very well! I think it would do very well today. It was
just in the wrong place at the wrong time. People just didn't get
it.
RST - While we're in this time period, I was wondering if
I could ask your memories on a few musicians?
CBH - Sure!
RST - I've only been seeing shows for about twenty years.
When I talk to true veterans of music who have been seeing shows
for thirty or forty years so many of them comment on the intensity
of Otis Redding's performances, and they say his guitar player Johnny
Jenkins.
CBH - ...the greatest thing I've ever seen in my life - scary
was the word on that. That was the shit. That was the stuff.
That was it. I saw 'em twice. Johnny Jenkins still plays once
in a while; he came out and played with us (recently). He did seven
songs, which is the longest he's done in thirty years. Having him
and Otis Redding together, there's been nothing like it since.
It was an energy that does not exist today. You cannot find what
they did live. There's no way to describe what it was... scary.
You know Bill Graham said, "I did over three thousand acts and
none were close to Otis Redding." That's quite a compliment, isn't
it?
RST - Oh yeah! There's a guy who's been a DJ in Boston for
over thirty years named Charles Laquidara.
CBH - Yeah, I know him.
RST - He said that Otis Redding at Monterey was the most powerful
thing he had ever seen, and this guy has seen a staggering amount
of music.
CBH - Yeah, I saw Otis here in small clubs. I'll tell you something,
man, it was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life. It was
like, energy levels you don't even know about. I mean, they're
not here anymore, they don't exist. It was just like.... it was
possession. I mean that room would change colors man, it was like
a drug. It was a religious experience to say the least.
RST - What were the crowds like? Would it be hard to get
into the shows? Did they sell out and stuff?
CBH - I was one of the only white guys there. At the time Allen
Walden was managing them. There might have been five white people
there, no not even that many, three maybe. I was a teenager at
the time. Otis Redding and Bobby Bland would play shows together
and I knew Wayne Bennett, the guitar player for Bobby. He would
sneak me in. And, I guess I would also go to the City Auditorium,
occasionally, I don't even know how I got in there. It would be
Otis Redding, Aretha Franklin, Albert King, Sam and Dave, Solomon
Burke, and it would be three bucks to get in. There would be three
thousand people in there. It was amazing, that's all I can say.
Nobody was close to Otis Redding, and Johnny Jenkins, that was
it, the original group. I saw 'em at a frat party once. It was
scary, that's all I can tell you. I saw 'em at the Royal Peacock
in Atlanta, 181 1/2 Peacock Avenue. (RST note - I guess he saw
him more than twice?) Still to this day, that ranks as my top concert
I've ever seen. That ruined my life and changed my life. That
made me quit golf! (Laughter) I knew I had to do music after
that day. That was it.
RST - Do you remember when you first met Frank Zappa?
CBH - Yes, I met Frank in New York. I had no idea who he was.
It was the mid-sixties; he had just gotten there from LA. I was
at a place called The Tin Angel on Bleeker Street, which was across
the street from the Garrick Theater, and in he walked, and I just
said, 'what a weird poot that guy is.' I mean, this guy had long
hair down to his knees. I had never seen anything like that coming
from the South in the sixties.
He was just, you know *freaked out* looking. I looked at him,
but I didn't say anything, I was just like, 'that guy is poofed
out.' I mean I really didn't like him. I was in the Blues Police
or the Jazz Police at the time. I wasn't open to any weirdness
at all. It had to be avant garde, or it had to be blues or R+B.
So then the next day I was at another place on Bleeker Street called
the Dugout, I think it's still there. You know, a sandwich place,
or a bar, and we were eatin'. He came in again at about the same
time, 'round noon or something. I was talking to my friend. I
was talking about a Polish composer named Krysztof
Penderecki, and he heard me, and he went, "Penderecki?!"
And I turned to him and said, 'yeah, do you know who he is?' And
he goes, "yeah, very well, I have all of his stuff." He sort of
invited us to his house, and we came over. We ended up hanging
out every day for about a week or so. We went to his shows, and
the first show I heard I really didn't like it at all. I just
didn't like it a bit. The second show I went to, I thought, 'man
this guy is putting Stravinsky to rock n' roll. He's truly mixing
classical music and every influence there is.' I really, really
liked it the second time I went and I was more open. The musicianship
and the whole thing was just amazing. Frank was such a gentleman
it was unbelievable. It actually fried me that anybody could be
that gentlemanly. I didn't know that people could be that nice.
He wasn't anybody at the time, he had no name. I haven't told
this story to many people, but one time we were walking through
Washington Square Park, and there was this girl crying. He went
twenty feet out of his way, and went over there to this 18 year
old girl and cheered her up, spent ten minutes with her, had no
idea who she was. In New York no one will ever do that for anyone.
And I just said, 'what an amazing guy.' And then we went out one
night to hear Jimi Hendrix, and he was supposed to be on the guest
list, and he wasn't, and he never used his ego and insist that
he should have been on the guest list or anything. He just paid
for himself and me to get in and never said a word. He just always
showed class all the time. He was a big inspiration to me as a
person more than anything else. He always helped me quite a bit.
If I had an album out, he would play it on radio stations for me.
Especially the album "One Ruined Life Of A Bronze Tourist." He
took that to many, many radio stations, and helped me quite a bit.
RST - That was The Late Bronze Band?
CBH - No, that was my own album. It was Hampton B. Coles, I
think it's under Col. Bruce Hampton now. They're re-releasing
it July. "One Ruined Life Of A Bronze Tourist" is the name of it.
RST - What record label will it be re-released on?
CBH - It's on Terminus Records.
RST - OK.
CBH - The guy was nothing but a class gentleman. I really sort
of lost touch after about 1980, I only saw him one or two more
times. But during the sixties and seventies I stayed very tight
with him. I got to do cameo appearances on "We're Only In It For
The Money," and "Lumpy Gravy." He was just a class, class cat.
I wish the world were full with him. He was just amazing, what
did he do 50 albums, and he had four kids? I mean, my God! (laughs)
An amazing cat to say the least. He never ran out of energy, man!
RST - And what a guy to see Hendrix with!
CBH - Yeah, that's true. We saw Hendrix stick his guitar up
through the roof. His guitar was moving back and forth with the
strings hittin' it. It was quite amazing. I had no idea who the
guy was, and Frank took me to see him. He was in a little club;
it was called The Dom. Richie Havens was the closer, and Hendrix
was the opener, it started at seven in the evening, and Richie
came on at about nine o'clock. It was like a dollar and a quarter.
And another funny story, since we're telling war stories, is about
Miles Davis. I guess it was about 1968 when Miles Davis was ah....right
in the period where jazz was truly dead, nobody was going to see
him, and "Bitches Brew" was out. One Sunday night we went to the
Café A Go-Go, it was like a buck to get in. You had to buy two
drinks. He had everybody I wanted to see Jack DeJohnette, Keith
Jarrett or Herbie Hancock was in the band. I couldn't wait. Then
they announced that a comedian was coming on and I got really upset.
I didn't want to see any comedian. It turned out to be Richard
Pryor, and it was his first New York show. After that, I didn't
want to see Miles Davis or anybody. Back then nobody knew what
a comedian was; there was no such thing. They would just send
some guy from the "Borsch Belt" or something. You didn't want
to see comedians. But Richard Pryor in the late sixties, that
was it too (laughs).
RST - He would work the whole stage, and he was pretty explosive
I've heard.
CBH - UN-BELIEVABLE, is the only word I can say. That was still
the greatest I've ever seen, for comedy, although Chris Rock is
great today. It was unheard of what Pryor was doing at the time,
I mean he broke ground. You know what's also funny as hell, I'm
sitting' here looking at a paper and the headline says, "Unrest
in Fiji!"
RST - How about Duane Allman?
CBH - Without Duane, I probably wouldn't be in the business.
I owe that guy everything. He got us the record deal, the Pop
Festival, the Fillmore East gigs, and was always an inspiration.
I guess we played with the original Allman Brothers a good 15-20
times. He took the Hampton Grease Band to Capricorn Records and
saw to it that we got the record deal.
(RST note - I have since learned that when Duane was so impressed
with the Hampton Grease Band that he compelled Bill Graham to book
them, which resulted in HGB opening for Frank Zappa at Fillmore
East in 1971)
RST - What was Duane like off-stage?
CBH - He was just a nice, quiet gentleman. I hung out and talked
with him, mostly about Blind Willie McTell. He played with the
Isley Brothers and Little Richard in the mid-sixties. Duane actually
got fired by Little Richard here in the mid-sixties for out-dressing
him.
RST - How much would he get to actually take solos back then?
CBH - Not really much, he'd take a couple. He wasn't the Duane
Allman that he would later become. I couldn't even recognize him
when I went to New York and saw him years later. By that time
he was on fire, he had really become an amazing player. I owe Duane
Allman and Frank Zappa a lot, they both older brothers to me.
Just amazing people to say the least. I wish Duane had lived, it
would've been a different world for The Allmans. He was just finding
his own self. He was just coming into who he was. He was gonna
revolutionize a lot of stuff.
RST - You would have to wonder what he would think that his
band is still popular today.
CBH - Well, they're pure man; they're pure as hell. I guess
you've heard the news that Jimmy is taking Dickey's place.
RST - uh-huh.
CBH - OK, what was the next question.
(RST note to ABB fans - I got the impression Bruce didn't want
to discuss this matter, my apologies)
RST - One last name from the past, David Earl Johnson
CBH - That's another big brother figure. I met David in the
mid-seventies. He was a conga player. He had played with all
the jazz greats. He was in bands with Jan Hammer, John Ambercrombie,
Herbie Mann; he played with just about everybody. He was an incredible
composer and a great conga player, and one great friend. He died
about a year and a half ago. I miss him a lot. We wrote a couple
of tunes together, he was an amazing cat. I wish the world had
known him, they just don't know him. He has a couple of German
records out. He wrote the tune, "Time Is Free", and "Trondossa",
which ARU recorded. The world will soon discover this amazing
cat, I hope. He put Latin and Rock n' Roll together and made it
work.
RST - Is it true "Trondossa" was inspired by a woman who worked
at Waffle House?
CBH - Yeah, how'd you know that?
RST - You have played with so many incredible musicians, I
found it interesting how excited you seemed to be to perform with
Vassar Clements at last year's Harvest Festival, can you talk about
him a bit?
CBH - I was in Nashville last week and I got to talk to him.
He's the "king of kings" man. You know that guy was with Bill Monroe
and Hank Williams when he was 14! I mean, what kind of resume is
that! He was with the guy that started bluegrass and country and
western (laughter) that says a lot doesn't it?
RST - It's amazing, and to be completely down to Earth about
it.
CBH - Yeah, Vassar's is just the nicest guy there is.
RST - From speaking with you and reading about you, I've learned
that one of the first things that lured you toward music was a blues
radio program back in the your younger days, do you remember the
name of this show or the station it was on?
CBH - It came out of Nashville, Tennessee actually, in the fifties.
It was WFM I believe. I was hearing Bobby Bland, BB King, and
John Lee Hooker. I had never heard music quite like that before.
It was at nighttime that I got it. There were probably six clear
channel stations in the South, and as soon as the sun went down
the clear channels would come on. I don't remember the name of
the program, just that as soon as the sun came down this station
came on. I'm talkin '54-'58.
RST - Lately it has hit me that The Dunhams'
radio program here
in Atlanta may be serving a similar purpose for some of the younger
folks around Atlanta. Do you remember where you met them, and
what your first impressions of them were?
CBH - I think we were playing at their house, (some of the) Aquarium
Rescue Unit about two years ago. Oteil wasn't there, but Jeff,
Jimmy and I, I think. As a matter of fact I guess we went to their
studio one time, and then the next time we went to their house.
RST - Have you ever in your career experienced anything like
that, folks having musicians in their living room and broadcasting
it on a commercial radio station?
CBH - Not actually, I've never seen anything quite like it, no.
It's one of a kind, so far. I mean to have people like Little
Feat in there is quite something to say the least; that's very
high quality music. I can't listen to much radio because most of
it just makes me sick. They do play real pure music, and that's
not really done on a station that's that big at any time. It's
great that they do play pure and good music, it's critical actually.
RST - Now they have bands perform live at a club here in town,
but I hear they may occasionally return to having bands in their
living room. Would you say they've contributed to making Atlanta
one of the most vital cities for the groove rock or improvisational
rock scene?
CBH - Yeah, they sure have.