What Does Music Mean?

Jazz great John Medeski on music, healing, and the fire of creation.

Keyboard visionary John Medeski sits down with me to explore why music moves us, how sound can heal, and what it means to create beyond technique. From indigenous ritual to Swedish death metal, from Victor Zuckerkandl’s “meaning of tones” to the ecstatic teachings of Tisziji Muñoz, this conversation goes deep.

Video

Transcript

Adam Jacobs: Hi.

John Medeski: Hi.

Adam Jacobs: How are you?

John Medeski: Hey, I'm good. How are you doing?

Adam Jacobs: I'm good. I've been waiting about 30 years to talk to you.

John Medeski: Oh, geez. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep you that long.

Adam Jacobs: Where are you broadcasting from?

John Medeski: I'm at my house. Lemme see if I can change this back. Should I just blur the background? Does that help?

Adam Jacobs: I like it. If it works for you. So first of all, this is an honor for me.

John Medeski: Me too.

Adam Jacobs: And I wanted to ask you, this is all pre the questions. I have a series of questions which are largely focused on the spiritual dimensions of music and music itself, and hopefully, stuff that you'll find interesting. But you guys played a gig in Boston, maybe in '93, at a college, and there was a visual artist and a dancer. Does this sound familiar at all?

John Medeski: Sure. I mean, we did that. Yeah, sure. It does sound familiar.

Adam Jacobs: That was one of the greatest shows I've seen in my history of seeing a lot of stuff.

John Medeski: Wow.

Adam Jacobs: I loved it. And I always wanted to tell you guys that I found it to be such a remarkable experience that I have not seen it replicated since. I don't know where it was, but I had a great time there. I want to say Emerson College or something.

John Medeski: Oh wow. Maybe. So that part is going to be pretty blurry for me for sure. Actually, 93, we were doing a lot of stuff back then, but yeah.

Adam Jacobs: Okay. And my teacher back then was Ran Blake…

John Medeski: One of my favorites I studied with. So were you at the conservatory then?

Adam Jacobs: Yeah, from '93 to '95.

John Medeski: Yeah, so I was there like 83, 84 till 89.

Adam Jacobs: Okay. So we missed each other. And Bob Moses was my ensemble director.

John Medeski: Another one of my teachers. Yeah, I mean, when I was there, I would split lessons. Well, my first year, I was a classical major, and then I kind of realized pretty quickly that as much as I loved the music, I had no interest in being a classical performer.

At that time, when I went to school, there weren't a lot of jazz programs, and I was just influenced by my family and everybody who was terrified anyway, that I was getting a music degree to get a classical degree. So I got into a couple of different classical schools, in Juilliard and Eastman Conservatory, and I chose (The New England) Conservatory because it appeared to have, and it did have, the most…

Adam Jacobs: Integrated?

John Medeski: I guess integrated could be the jazz program and was integrated into the rest of the, or at least it appeared to be when I was making my decision, and that you could be in the classical program and still audition for jazz ensembles and stuff. But when I got in there, I really had this incredible teacher, Leonard Scher, who was one of the great teachers.

Adam Jacobs: I don't know him.

John Medeski: He was amazing. And I guess he was so great that I just had this experience of like, Hey, you know what? He's got this incredible approach to interpretation that's just flawless and so clear, and he's doing that. So I don't need to do that. It just wasn't my nature to be that kind of musician. And I've been playing jazz since I was a kid also. And I actually also was having some major tendonitis.

So, it was a big upheaval in my entire life, which was also, for me, a very spiritual transformation. Moving from this sort of world where I was a good reader, I could do, and I played all different kinds of music, I think it was really about finding my own thing and my own voice and connecting to that. And the third stream department was all about that.

So that's what I switched into. And then when I would do lessons, I would split lessons and Bob Moses had literally just come that year. So, I would split my lessons between Bob and Ran and different people who came through, including Dave Holland and McNeely. But I always ran and Bob were kind of the main two teachers there. And I wanted to play with Bob because I wanted to know, work on my rhythm and groove and things like that. And also just to know what the drummers, because piano players, I mean, forget it. It's like a lot of people don't like piano players in their band because they play too much. Or they can take over in a way by being in control of the harmony.

And so it's funny, something I still listen to and deal with is what kind of comping do different people like horn players, guitar players, working with Schofield, working with all these different people over the years, really wanting to know who do they like, what do they, what are they looking for? What supports them? So working with Bob was kind of like that too. We would play duos and then he would tear me apart and And Rand is literally still, I was actually thinking about him the other day. He's one of my favorite piano players in the history of music.

Adam Jacobs: Me too, me too.

John Medeski: Oh God. I just thinking some of the stuff that I wish I had recorded more of my lessons back then, because some of the things he would play was just, I mean really so free in his own way. And just the way his approach to harmony and the way he would follow a melody and he could just change keys because of whatever he was doing harmonically, he would change keys seamlessly. Wouldn't even know that the bridge was in a different key than he started it, because it was really coming from him in that approach of the ear kind of guiding everything, but from a real intuitive way. He was incredible.

Adam Jacobs: So when we edit this, we'll put up a picture of him and a link for how people can access his work. I think unfortunately, he is not as celebrated as he could be out in the world. And anyone watching check out Ran Blake, one of the greatest piano players of all time,

John Medeski: He really took it at the time when he came on the scene, he took it in a different direction than any other pianist. Like what Herbie Hancock did, what Chick Corea did coming out of all the music that was happening then ran, really went a completely different direction as a piano player, but very pianistic. And he had a whole other approach to harmony. He wasn't really a modal person. Very harmonic and very color oriented. And his whole soundtrack obsession and the visual, the visualizing color, I mean the whole thing and just even his approach to harmony, the way he harmonizes standards really is connected to the history, but went on its own trajectory. It's really incredible.

Adam Jacobs: I could probably talk about Rand for the entire time we have. Absolutely. But let me take a 30,000-foot view of music for a second with you and read you a quote from a musicologist named Victor Zuckerkandl, who I love and who wrote a fascinating work, A Couple of Books on Music. So there's this one quote that has stuck with me for a while, and let me get your take on it.

So he says, “How can tones have meaning? Words have meaning because they relate to things sentences because they express something about things. Tones do not relate to things, do not express anything about things, represent nothing, be token nothing, indicate nothing. What is it then that is meaningful in tones that allows us to distinguish sense from nonsense in successions of tones?” So that's another way of saying, what is music? What is music? I know it's deep. I know there's a lot to it.

John Medeski: No. So he's just throwing this question out as a fodder for thought, I guess. Right? Sure. I'm sure, hopefully, he has it figured out for himself. I really hope so. Because

Adam Jacobs: He talks about it in a whole book.

John Medeski: Yeah. Okay. Hope he doesn't really feel like that for himself. That would be rough.

Adam Jacobs: No, he loves music. He's coming at it from a good place.

John Medeski: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, I mean, to me music is words, and it's a language. I mean, it is a language of its own. And that expresses only what music can express. And in my opinion, it is our greatest language. I mean, mathematics is another incredible language and speaking is a pretty good language. But music really, I guess I deeply believe that we're in an era when our minds, the mind is king. And I just really believe that. I think most physics, science and everything has shown us that we also, that our heart and our gut are filled with neurons. And it's something that I just think our obsession with our cleverness over the past hundreds of years, maybe.

Adam Jacobs: Our intellect, you mean?

John Medeski: Yeah. Our intellect and our mind, that way of thinking and understanding things has this sort of material science has really taken over. And I think music really helps communicate from the other centers of our intelligence, the other centers of our ability to understand of our ability to, I guess think, for lack of a better word, to take thinking out of just the mind that we, but it's also more of a feel. And so I feel like what music does is that it's a language that is between idea and emotion and has the ability to express ambiguous territory very clearly.

And it's not something that we can't put into words or analyze from just a intellectual standpoint. I mean, I think about when I worked with The Dirty Dozen, I produced a record of theirs years ago and started really spending more time in New Orleans. And the way they would talk about the tracks when they listened to them was very simple. It was, I'm feeling that I'm not feeling that. It wasn't like, well, you played these notes we need to do. It was just like, I'm feeling and I'm not feeling it. It just really struck me as, yeah, one way to look and understand music. It's like, are you feeling it? I think that's why so many different kinds of music can appeal to so many different people.

Adam Jacobs: I think there's actual profundity in your answer, something that probably needs a book of its own. But you're entirely right that the intellect has been massively dominant in culture, has much more respect than other modalities of processing information. And exactly as you said, the gut and the heart have taken a backseat, I think, to the intellect for hundreds of years. And therefore we're estranged from it to some extent.

However, when we, almost all of us, when we hear music feel a tug, that is, as you said, like a different language. It's some other means of communication. But it's interesting because language is usually, but not always between two or more people. But I'm sure you've had the experience of sitting in a practice room and playing, and it's just you. And having some kind of transcendent experience where you're interacting with the vocabulary of these sounds, does it strike you as odd that there's a language that you speak to yourself?

John Medeski: I don't think it's just myself.

Adam Jacobs: Ah, good. What do you think?

John Medeski: Well, well, I mean, this is tied to the idea of this obsession with our intellect or our minds. And this sort also separates us from other things as we try to figure ourselves out, but we create a separation. It's like I just feel that we're connected to everything, to everything has a spirit, plants, and then forest collectively, I mean everything. And we're not as individual as we think.

So when we're alone having that experience, we're connecting to all kinds of other, we're pulling through, I mean, things that they haven't even been able to analyze or haven't really discovered. I mean, sure you get into quantum physics and especially really modern science, they've been talking about it for a long time. But it is not part of what we're taught. It's not part of our culture. It's not part of what, it's just because really hard to understand and hard to put into words and takes a certain kind of mind to intellectually get to that place.

It's really easy to get to that place when you train your other centers to align and be equal to the mind. And I feel like when you're having that experience by yourself, I mean, there's so many things that could be happening. I don't know, time is an illusion. It doesn't exist. So are we connecting with our ancestors? Are we connecting with with things we can't see that are right there? And so I just feel like when we're making music and basically creating a vibration, a sound, and that sound, everything is vibration.

So we're affecting everything. And so I guess when we get into that state where we're actually having a transcendent moment with music, we are more in the unity that really is, I think. And I remember, I can remember a couple times as a kid having that experience and the goal has been to try to get there all the time or to just get it back.

Adam Jacobs: So what was that like as a kid?

John Medeski: Well, I remember going to some piano competition type thing when I was young, like seven or eight years old. And it was playing some Mozart. And I think I had the benefit of showing up, expecting to wait for a while and have time to mull over and get nervous. And I literally walked in the door, sat down, and I had to go play. So I had no time for any self-reflection or so I just got up and played. And the piece played itself. It was one of the things where it felt like I wasn't even doing it. It was like I was in another zone and it was happening and I didn't talk about it, or I rarely talk about it, but it was like, it just struck me as like, okay, that's one of the goals is to be in that place.

And it happened again. One of the first times I was improvising after I first got into jazz, a drummer, a friend of mine who was a little older, that really influenced me a lot back then. This is probably 13, 14 years old. He had a little recital that he was putting on, and I remember a very similar thing happening where we were playing. I think it was. So what was the song? And again, it was just, it kind of played itself, which was me getting out of the way or me the ego, the meaning that I think I'm just getting out of the way to and allowing it, or the part of me that would get in the way.

However, whatever your psychological framework is or so many different ways to look at this. But it was just happening. And I just remember how powerful it was. It was like being in an ocean when the waves moved or in a really strong river or something. It was just happening. And again, that was one of these things where it became the goal. And it certainly didn't happen every time, but it was sort of this, again, full sensory body, heart, gut, mind, everything, feeling that I knew that I needed to, that's what I was going for. And then you practice all kinds of stuff to think that's what's going to get you there.

Adam Jacobs: Would it be too much of a stretch to suggest that that's why musicians play music, that it's seeking that sort of peak experience, like many endeavors, from jogging to race car driving, or whatever. There's that moment that you're describing of becoming part of something much bigger than yourself. Most people experience as tremendously pleasurable. And then once they've had it, once, they want it again. Given what Dr. Zuckerkandl said about tones not meaning anything, like four 440 megahertz doesn't have a meaning. It is what it is. And it seems to be some kind of tool or vehicle. I don't know why it works to create this kind of experience, but I subjectively have found, and in speaking to others seem to see that that's the core of musicianship, that's the core of we're trying to get into that space in a fundamental way. Does that strike you as true?

John Medeski: Yeah, it's a vibration. I mean, really, what is the meaning and what has meaning? That's a big question. That's the mind. That's the mind. Trying to box something up just to understand it, to get on with life and feel good. And I just really believe that music, every sound vibration is beyond meaning. And I guess that's the goal. I think there is something just cathartic about that musical experience that we're talking about, whether you're a listener or a player, that, yeah, I would say we need. One of the things that I can talk about along these lines for me is that I came to realize, I don't know, in the past 15, 20 years.

I had a piano in my bedroom growing up at a certain point, and I'm just going to use it because I lack a better word. Is that the healing that I received from being by myself and playing music, going through whatever the teenage shit that you go through, all the hormonal, discovering self, all the stuff that, I mean, if you've had kids or been one, you know what this is. You know what it is, you've had it, you've seen it. That having music really was incredible therapy. I performed a lot, and I played a lot of different kinds of music. Also, it was great to play music; the social music has so many aspects, and all of those were great. But just being alone and being able to go in my room when I'm pissed off about something.

It just didn't come together in my mind/emotional fabric to be able to sit and play for a little bit. Especially having the tool of improvisation and creating music at that time in my life, to be able to just, I mean, what that would do to my whole system. I don't know. I don't know who or what I would've been if I had to have that. It was kind of scary.

Adam Jacobs: Well, you're anticipating the questions I was going to ask you, which is good. I was going to ask you about healing. You've spoken about healing, I've seen out there before, the power of music to heal. Again, this is sort of a follow-on, but is the music doing the healing, or is something behind it doing it? That's one. And two, would you say, is Swedish death metal healing as well? Are all forms equally valuable, or do you see some as more helpful towards healing?

John Medeski: It depends on what you're trying to heal. You don't take the same medicine for every illness. So I would say that music is good, just plain and simple, and maybe what's good for someone else isn't good for me, or so I think that, I guess, the music I listened to as a kid, that there's no way I can even begin to listen to now. So I would say that Swedish death metal might provide a certain energy at a certain release for someone that could be healing at that time. I mean, I do believe that there, I know that sound healing is all over the place now, and I have mixed feelings about that.

I mean, I believe in it. I do believe in frequency; I mean, everything is a frequency. And certain people have done really deep studies and also have a really deep connection to music. So I think one of the questions in that world that I've heard about is this delineation between sound and music. And that's where I start to have issues. Because even if you're just using something, a device, so a bowl or a tuning fork or anything to create vibration to provide an experience or for healing, you are hitting that thing. And the intention is a big part of it. And so whether you're playing some more complex music, whatever music you're making, the person who's making it or the people that are making it are part of the experience and part of the effect.

But I also believe that you can be making music, and I've had this experience, and your mind can be in one place, but what's happening for someone else is something completely different. That's where I feel you have to let go a little of control. Do it in the purest way you can for yourself. I mean, for me, one of the things is why I love songs. And I played with a lot of, I've mainly explored music as music without words in my life. My fascination and exploration is the language of music itself, the Language of sound, and I mean, I've always seen it as sound shaping sounds, whatever it is.

Whether you're playing Bach or you're playing jazz or you're playing your own whatever, it's basically, it's like one thing leads to another where you place it. It's like even for sound healing, you're playing whatever, a tuning fork when you choose to play it again is rhythm. It's where you place it in time. And I think there's so many traditional musics that healing music's from Africa, from Peru, from Brazil that have, there's rhythm in there and rhythm is also healing. There's something to, I mean, it's all part of it in the world of healing, in my opinion.

Adam Jacobs: Yes. I have a question about ritual, which I'll get to in a minute, but let me ask. I'll pivot for a second if it's okay. I often wonder about people who are very accomplished at something. I presume you're aware that you're very good at what you do. Do you feel that way?

John Medeski: Not really. You feel like a work in progress for me. And I do say there are different parts of me. There are parts of me that are very critical of what I do. Yeah, I'm trying to learn to enjoy it.

Adam Jacobs: Okay. That's interesting. Okay, fine. Well, let me ask it like this then. Just like we were speaking about Ran before, I think Ran should be playing at Carnegie Hall regularly and should be selling millions of records. And he's been a very niche thing. You have enjoyed pretty substantial success for a jazz musician. It seems to me that you may disagree, but your name means something to a lot of musicians, certainly the ones I know. And I wonder if you ever get frustrated, if you ever think to yourself, like, dang, this music, what I'm playing is great, and it should be appreciated by so many people. Do you ever get frustrated with how far it goes?

John Medeski: I don't.

Adam Jacobs: Amazing. Okay.

John Medeski: I tend to just feel like I'm doing something wrong. I mean, it's nice to hear you say all of this, but I tend to, I don't know, really. I don't even know if I think about it so much. I mean, the truth is, I do recognize that there has been some commercial success, but not enough for me to not have to work all the time. It's like I haven't created music that has sold bazillions of copies so that I don't have money coming in from my past works that sustains me.

I'm still sustained by going out and playing. And I would say sometimes I'm frustrated by that. I'm frustrated with the state of the music business. I'm frustrated with what YouTube, Spotify and all these platforms, how they don't support that thing that is their sustenance, which is musicians creating music. And I see this, I'm more frustrated with that kind of stuff, how musicians are taking advantage of, and I guess I get more frustrated with how, I don't know, just the aspect of how most of the music out there is about nostalgia and entertainment. And it makes me sad that more people don't feel like you about music or me, that they don't really just love it. Then maybe I could blame musicians for that. What are we doing? What are most musicians doing? I don't know. I don't really think about that too much. But I mean…

Adam Jacobs: Do you want to be specific about that?

John Medeski: It's just the concepts. No, I don't know how specific I can be, but I just feel like in some ways the musicians have failed the fricking…

Adam Jacobs: I mean, has Taylor Swift failed anybody? I mean, she has legions of fans. Does she not deserve that? Is it detrimental?

John Medeski: I guess that's where I take a left turn because I just see it as all part of it. And I believe that people go to her concerts, have amazing experiences, and feel good. They are imbued with that thing that music does. They get excited. An example for me, I'll give you two examples that sort of explain this. One is when I was at school, and I've told this story before, I was deep in my jazz hole, more I like to call it, studying. Yeah. Microtonal music, 12-tone music…

Adam Jacobs: With Joe Maneri?

John Medeski: Yeah, with Joe and then really into jazz and really into analyzing Charles Ives, looking at all the mess and all this stuff, really getting into stuff that, to me, when I'd heard it was just like, well, it blew my mind. And wanting to know more about that. And then also just getting into playing free jazz and more avant-garde kinds of stuff and really hardcore about it. And I went to, and this is coming from as a kid, playing a lot of weddings and Bar Mitzvahs in South Florida, where I grew up, and playing at country clubs for people to dance.

I mean, doing all that. But when I went to school, I was like, okay, I want to really study music. And I would do a few of those kinds of gigs, but I was really trying to focus on whatever I thought was the thing to be focusing on. And I remember going over to play a session over at Berkeley with some other guys and standing outside the room waiting for our room to become available. And they were playing, I'm not sure what song, but it was a Billy Joel song. And I was thinking to myself, oh geez, man, I probably practiced for a wedding or whatever, feeling something, I don't know, judgmental. Not fully judgmental, but just in my own version of what we opened the door where they were done, and they were so elated, high-fiving each other, and just, so this is one of those moments that I was just like, oh my God, I'm sitting here.

The five of us are about to go into this room. We probably won't even look at each other, and we'll play for an hour and a half or two hours, and these guys are doing something that I'm sitting here judging, and they're having that experience that music is supposed to give you. And who knows? It was kind of after that, I realized, Hey, I got to relearn how to love music again for the right reasons. So I kind of spawned that.

Adam Jacobs: That's nice.

John Medeski: And so I guess what I would say is that I dunno that answer, but that's how I feel. Like music, you never know what it's going to do because at different times in my life, different music has really moved me to the core. So if Taylor Swift does it, I've also generally heard certain kinds of music, such as country music and opera. As much as I loved the music of opera, I just couldn't take it. My mom loved opera, and I was like, come on, Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, what are they doing? And I got stuck in my mom's car for a couple of hours. I was home visiting, and there was a cassette stuck in her car, great sopranos of our time, and I couldn't get the radio to go on. And so I had to listen to this thing over and over, and I had a breakthrough, an aria from Faust, and all of a sudden, I heard the beauty in it.

And ever since then, I broke through. And I sort of feel like that same with country music. Willie Nelson's tapes, which brought back my memories, did that for me. Where I feel like, I don't know, I just believe that if people are loving it, we can find something in it. And so I leave myself open to that with all music and any kind of music to be able to feel whatever it is that if enough people really like it, there must be something.

Adam Jacobs: Right. When I was at NEC, Kenny G was sort of hitting his stride as a player, and every guy hated him so passionately, and Dave Holland was teaching a masterclass or something, and somebody complained about Kenny G, and Dave said something that stuck with me all these years. He's like, Kenny is, that's where he's at. It's like, he's not doing this to be commercial. That's where his soul is. And you can't judge his soul. You can say you don't relate to the music, but it's not a bad thing. And we were like, Wow. No one has ever said that before, but it's such a good point. Yeah.

John Medeski:
Yeah, I agree with you. Just because you don't like something doesn't mean it is not good for someone else.

Adam Jacobs: Yeah, obviously, he did very well, but okay, this is fun. But I've got two more categories of questions that I have time for. One is about music as ritual, and then I want to ask you a couple of things about Tisziji Muñoz, who I know you've played with and appreciate. Okay. So I know you like music with rhythm, obviously. We spoke about Bob Moses, we spoke about indigenous music, and the power of those rhythms. So, can you see music as a form of ritual by itself? When we go to concerts and we dim the lights and the musicians come on, are we doing something ritualistic together that can count as an actual ritual? And whether they call it in Africa or in Asia, they call it a ritual, and we don't, in essence, is that what it is?

John Medeski: I guess to some degree it always is. And I think it's those geniuses that are able to transcend the entertainment because music is also entertainment.I don't think entertainment is necessary, sure, it's a ritual of sorts, but when we start talking about music that is ritualistic intentionally, for a certain purpose, that's different. But I think anything we do repeatedly is a ritual.

I guess part of my thing is I don't believe in the binary. I don't believe in black and white. I don't believe anything is one thing or another. I really don't. I don't think that's how it works. You get close enough, everything is of the same. You get far enough away, it's all the same. If you get in there a little closer, you can start. We try to differentiate. So I just feel like it's personal. I guess. When I think about with our band, Medeski, Martin and Wood, we really were trying to, we played instrumental music. We became part of this jam band.

We were out there before that word existed, before that scene existed, we were doing what we were, got in a van and then a camper, and just drove around the country and played our music for people. And our theory was we lived in New York and we just couldn't, couldn't play five nights a week in New York. The only thing Broadway shows do that's different is that they get into the entertainment universe, and we really just wanted to improvise every night and do our thing and develop our language, whatever that was.

So we realized that, hey, if we can go to different towns, maybe we can play five, four, or five nights a week. And if 50 people come out, we'll go do it. They tell a few people, we get 50 people, we can keep doing this for a while. And we were sleeping on people's floors. We were just going out and doing it. And while the music itself is drawing from different sources, contemporary and whatever, it was never really entertainment for us. It was about taking people on a journey. And the way we were living, we were living in a camper. We weren't staying in hotels or eating at Waffle House. We were sleeping in state parks, making our own food, also to save money, so that we could afford to do it. But it was a whole different approach that felt very, it was like a ritual for us.

True for a ritual for three white guys from the US. None of us were in a tradition of an ancestral lineage of rituals, but we all related to that kind of music. And so it was a big part of what we were doing, but with our own influences, trying to be ourselves, not trying to play jazz, not trying to play anything. I mean, we tried when scenes would come along, acid jazz came around, oh, maybe we're acid jazz. No, we don't mean anything, so we're just doing our thing. The ritual part of it's really important. And I spent the past 20 years traveling to South America a lot and being involved in various rituals. So yeah, I love it in this part of my life. And it's sort of like that's my religion, I guess, if I could call it that, but I don't really call it that, but it's what I love. It's what feeds me, what keeps me connected, and what keeps me growing.

And then that, to me, that's every time I play, whoever it's with, whatever the setting, that's where I'm at with it. And I start to see it. When I think about it, I've been playing with the past, I don't know, five, seven years. I was playing a couple of times a year with Phil Lesh and his group, and I was not a Deadhead growing up. I never listened to them. I was a jazz hole. And there were actually, when I was at the conservatory, there were classical musicians, so a lot of people there were Deadheads, and they'd listen to the tapes, and I'd listen to them and be like, okay.

Then I'd go to my room and listen to Coltrane or Miles and Albert Eiler. But they dragged me to a concert in 1986 in Providence, Rhode Island. We got to go, and I went, and I would say that I had an experience that probably unknowingly changed my perspective on things again, and set the course for what helped was one of the stepping stones to going off and doing what we did.

First of all, I had never been to a 25,000-seat stadium where there wasn't a fight. I grew up attending sporting events and other mind-blowing rock concerts. People were passing joints and mushrooms around, and everybody was, I mean, the feeling was like nothing I had ever felt in that large group before. And that was kind of impactful. And then they're playing, and I don't know, I wasn't really feeling the music. I was feeling my friends and stuff. And I've since heard that that wasn't one of their greatest years. But at a certain point, they went into this space thing they do, and it was taking…

Adam Jacobs: Their free improv…

John Medeski: I would call it taking it out. They were taking it out. And I just had this other epiphany, and the audience was there checking it out and doing their thing. And I realized, okay, hey, these people are here for that. Just waiting for that cathartic experience that only improvised music can provide. Music can provide a lot of things: entertainment, nostalgia, healing, whatever. But then there is a cathartic moment that can only happen with improvised music.

It's really music in the moment for the moment. And that's a certain thing. And maybe it's not for everybody. Some people like that comfortable old feeling, just like the record, which lets them relax and feel the vibration. But I suppose, okay, here's a huge pile of people, and they're following them all over the country and looking for that. And kind of this was like, okay, so there are people here looking for that. It's not just for the hyper intellectual, angry music files.

It's like, okay, so there are actually normal people looking for this, and they just haven't had it presented to them in a way that they can digest. And I would say that probably, and it wasn't until much later that I got together with Billy and Chris, and we started doing it. But I think that that concert kind of put a click in, like, okay, it's possible, how, I don't know. And also just watching their scene and learning about them from hanging out with these guys. They provided a very safe container for people to go have crazy psychedelic experiences and grow. Like anything, some people don't grow. Some people do with it what they want, but they really turned on a huge number of people.

Adam Jacobs: And I would say, and this was for me, the Dead was the doorway to jazz. I went from the dead to Coltrane, and it seemed like a very natural transition from the long improvs to another kind of long improv. It sort of set the stage for it. I think it did that for a lot of people. And I didn't follow them, but I went to many shows. And the scene as you describe it is exactly right. And these people are very open-minded to different kinds of experiences, which I would say is the most ritualistic musical experience that I know of, at least on that scale.

So I a hundred percent agree and love them, but I have time for two more questions. Even though I have many more written down, it's okay. This has been great. Let me ask you about Tisziji Muñoz. He's written a couple of books, and he's an amazing guitar player. I know you've played with him. And he said something about what he calls a transcending technique, and it says, “he emphasizes that true creativity goes beyond technical skill. Artists must surrender to the flow of the present moment, letting go of self-consciousness to allow the heart fire sound to emerge.”

So I like the fact that he identifies something that seems very obvious to me, which is that there's something about the flow of the music at the moment. You have to concentrate right now. You can't think about what's for dinner later, or your card troubles from earlier. It's all about what's happening in this moment. And that seems to be a gateway to what he calls heart fire. Sound. What do you make of that? Is this part of the experience we were discussing earlier that helps you have this elevated sense? What does the presence have to do with the transcendent in music?

John Medeski: Well, I would say I agree with what he said. I mean, it really is about, I like being in the moment, and even if you're playing classical music, something that where every note is defined to be in the moment as it's happening, and to not be thinking about the wrong note you played three seconds ago. I mean, it's a true spiritual practice. And that's where music really can be an all-encompassing spiritual practice. I mean, physically, how you play your instrument can be like tai chi or a martial art in terms of not using what you don't need to use when to use force. You're using muscles on a smaller level and not hitting things, but it can be a physical practice that can sustain you for your life. And it can also be, like in this case, a spiritual practice. I mean, that's his approach, 100%. And it always has been. And he's really keeping that, I guess, the genre of spiritual jazz. I mean, he lives it.

He has written hundreds of books. He is just like a fountain. He's always writing. And it's really beautiful because the way he uses words and puts you into that space of not being able to understand, yet understanding. And we did a record together called Ugly is Ugly, which is his spoken word. And then music. I still listen to it every once in a while just to get a dose of him because it's really amazing. We still try to play together when we can. But yeah, I mean, yeah, Heartfire Sound is his offering. That's what he calls it. So, I think music is too limited a word. And it is about using music. Using music as an opportunity to transcend is all in your intention and your approach, whether you're playing something that's completely harmonic and simple or alien, toric, and hard to grasp.

Adam Jacobs: I wrote down this as a last question. I wrote a “Spinal Tap” question, which is, what would you be doing if you weren't a musician? If you either couldn't play or if life had led you down a different path, what do you think you'd be doing?

John Medeski: Now at this moment?

Adam Jacobs: Yeah.

John Medeski: I mean, I think there've been different things at different points in my life.

Adam Jacobs: Let's say you couldn't play any, God forbid, let's say you couldn't play.

John Medeski: I might be doing body work of some kind, or I would probably in some way or other just be deeply involved, 100% immersed in some sort of, which I sort of am anyway, but I still play music, some sort of plant medicine type of life, or I don't know, I might be living in the jungle in Peru or Ecuador.

Adam Jacobs: So a different modality of spiritual pursuit, basically.

John Medeski: Yeah. Just like the one that's just right over there.

Adam Jacobs: Well, John, this was a real big treat for me. I said, it's funny when you meet somebody and you've known them for a long time, but they haven't known you. And here you are. Thank you very much for taking the time to speak with me today. We'll edit this and we'll add some images and whatnot, and we'll get it to you. And God willing, a lot of people will benefit from your wisdom and knowledge, and you have, and outside of your music, you have some very important ideas. And I hope that a lot of people get to learn about them.

John Medeski: Thanks. Well, I look forward to checking this out. I'm going to check out some more of your podcasts. I haven't seen them, but I'm going to go check out some more of your podcasts. Podcasts, or what do you call?

Adam Jacobs: Podcasts? Podcasts, yeah.

John Medeski: Thank you so much for thinking of me and doing this. Appreciate it,

Adam Jacobs: It's my great pleasure and hope to talk to you again.

John Medeski: Alright. Yeah, me too.

Adam Jacobs: Take care. Bye. Bye.