Words

Alan Jones got up from his drum set and walked barefoot to the front of the stage. He pulled the microphone from its stand and flicked the cord until it was out of his way. The dark jazz club rumbled with laughter and food orders as jazz fans and supporters crammed around crowded tables and into corners of elbow-to-elbow standing room.

His white, cotton button down shirt caught flickers from the candles on the tables. He pressed his lips together, sighed, and began speaking. He thanked the crowd, his manager and family, introduced his band, and briefly explained his nine-song suite dedicated to legendary jazz bassist Leroy Vinnegar. "What Leroy taught me, has changed my music," he concluded, "I want to give something back for all he gave me; I couldn't have learned it anywhere else."

Alan wanted to honor Leroy's influence by composing a jazz suite that represents and speaks of Leroy's personality and musical style. He wrote each song with a specific aspect of Leroy's character in mind. Just like great musicians take from the jazz canon, Alan used Leroy's inspiration as a catalyst for a similar creation.

"I'm not just taking songs Leroy wrote and playing them the way Leroy would play them and calling it a tribute record," he explained during one of his set breaks. "I'm taking the spirit of what Leroy taught me, of ways that he expressed himself and acted, and of course his musical direction and ideas so that each of the compositions are completely related to an aspect of Leroy, but they are filtered through me, who he influenced."

Alan went on. When Leroy played the bass, he understood that each note carried with it an ability to move a person. "He might play two thousand notes in a song and every single one of those notes had to move each person in the audience. That's a lot of concentration. A lot of energy." And that's exactly what Alan Jones was trying to learn about when he met Leroy twelve years ago.

"Music is a bunch of sound waves," Alan tried to explain to me exactly what it is about Leroy's music that was so enticing. "When you hear something, they actually move little cells in your body and have the ability to make you cry."

Leroy's innate understanding and ability to play a quarter note in exactly the right place, to propel the music, first attracted Alan to Leroy. Leroy had mastered the motion and precision between one note and the next. He understood that when you hit a note, it goes into people, and that the next note you hit can either perpetuate that motion of entering the body or destroy that motion. This mastery of skill earned Leroy the title "The Master of the Walking Bass."

"Walking the bass means taking even steps forward with the notes," Alan continued. "You can vary the stride, but you can't change the tempo." He pretended to pluck an imaginary bass, bopping his head and saying "bao" with each pretend note. Then, to illustrate the concept of walking the bass, he began "walking" his index and middle finger on the table in front of us, keeping the same tempo. Then he pulled his hand back to his chest and pounded a few times next to his heart, all the while continuing the precisely spaced "bao's."

"It's like trying to meditate for hours without getting distracted."

Leroy was internationally recognized for his ability to "walk the bass." He played with jazz giants such as Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, Sonny Rollins, Billy Holliday, Art Tatum, Ben Webster, and Dexter Gordon, recording over 800 albums. Lucky for Alan, Leroy was also in Portland, where Alan lives.

At 69 years old, Leroy became the figurehead in the Portland jazz community, after a career that took him all over the world. During the late 80s and 90s, he drew old-time jazz gurus as well as younger fans and musicians like Alan to Portland nightclubs. Standing 6'5", and displaying a full head of white hair, he was both charismatic and intriguing. His influence was so prominent that in 1995 the Oregon Legislature named May 1 Leroy Vinnegar Day.

When Leroy first came to Portland, Alan didn't think he was experienced enough to play with the Great Walker, despite having performed in Paris, London, and allover the U.S. Leroy was playing with drummer Mel Brown at the time, but asked Alan to fill in when Brown couldn't. Although he was humble about playing with Leroy, Alan was eager to tap into his musical wisdom.

Over the years, they developed a relationship, both as teacher and student and as companions. Several years later, Alan decided to compose the Leroy Vinnegar Suite. At the same time, Leroy was suffering from emphysema. He was spending 15 hours a day hooked up to an oxygen machine. Alan realized he didn't have a lot of time left.

Leroy continued to play and record regularly while he was sick. He'd go to the hospital for his oxygen doses, but as soon as he was released, he'd head back to the bandstand. He recorded with Alan during his last days, with oxygen tubes running under his nose to keep him breathing. On August 3, 1999, Leroy passed away at age 71.

Leroy contributed immensely to the art form and to the education of his fellow musicians. However, to Alan and the people close to him, he also offered a genuine closeness and passionate spirit that made him truly unique. Alan didn't write the Leroy Vinnegar Suite with the idea that he was tapping into a community element, but as he went along, people started hearing about the recording and becoming involved. Making it a community tribute to the legendary musician and friend, Alan began producing the album. Two and half years later, the album was completed and a CD release event took place at Jimi Maks Jazz Club November 2.

Karen Natzel, manager of the Alan Jones Sextet and Alan's close friend, organized the event. She stood at a table in the corner of Jimmy Maks handing out flyers and selling CDs.

"The event built many bridges in the community," she explained, "generationally, Leroy has passed the baton to Alan, and musically Leroy's jazz built a bridge joining Alan's music."

She went on to explain that it has also brought together people who are interested in jazz, but don't know how to get involved or feel intimidated by the scene. Although Alan plays a high-end sophisticated kind of music, he demystifies it, makes it accessible to people who don't think they will like it. "People are hungry for community," she affirmed, "and this CD isn't the end product." Karen's goal is to keep building bridges across the music scene by working with musicians like Alan who feel passionate and genuine about sharing the art.

"Alan's such a genuine person; people are hungry for that," Karen explained. "He has this contagious, infectious spirit," she described him in a similar way that Alan describes Leroy.

"People are drawn to Alan," she continued, "When people feel that genuineness, we intrinsically understand it."

Karen, who has a background in marketing and image building, decided to work with Alan on a gut instinct. Although she had a full time job, she was drawn to Alan's dedication and pursuit of his dreams. Karen feels that seeing someone excited about his dream gives her courage to do what she wants. "This feeling of feeling alive because you are taking risks. That's what life is all about. The pursuit."

At the same time, Alan gets to learn from Karen about business. Being somebody who plays his drums barefoot and had never owned a business card, Alan didn't know how to connect his passion with business in order to promote the suite. While Karen praised Alan for his courage to follow his dreams, Alan shrugged it off as though he didn't know anything else. He admitted that he could probably find a higher paying job, but that for him, it's not an option. He is doing what he loves, and can't imagine doing anything else.

"Clarity in knowing what you want is key to following your dreams. I don't let things go very easily. I can't get tired of drumming. I can't get tired of writing music. Creativity requires focus and concentration."

The clarity and focus of both Leroy and Alan shine on the CD. Alan superimposes clips of Leroy talking and laughing at the beginning of each song and on "The Walker Reprise (Bonus Walk)," number 9 on the CD, Leroy talks about trying to buy a Mercedes in 1954 while three horns play in the background. Leroy also plays on two tracks.

Mel Brown told the Oregonian after Leroy's death that Leroy used to say, "I want to create something, and I need you guys to carry it on after I'm gone." And as though he is alive and responding to Alan's composition, at the end of the suite recording, Leroy's voice says, " All right, you guys did good. Keep it going."