BRETT HORNBY

Saxophone

I was raised in the South Hams I studied science, but became interested in music when quite young. The headmaster at Plympton Grammar encouraged me by paying for the music for my band. That was trad jazz, but then I went straight from Sidney Bechet to Archie Shepp. My Jazz education was at Peter Russel's Hot Record Store in Plymouth, where I spent every lunch hour for the two years I studied microbiology. Mike, Pete and Betty were brilliant, and people like Mike Westbrook and John Surman used to come into the shop and recommend things as well. Early influences were Westbrook of course, and Igor Stravinsky, who was much talked about at the South Devon Jazz Workshop run by Westbrook and John Jenkins at the Dartington Adult Education Centre. I have recordings of that, and I still think it was excellent. There were some brilliant young players, Mark and Andy Langford, Mark Griffiths on Double Bass and Bassoon; and Norman Lindon who must have started playing Tenor at about the same time as me.

In Kingsbridge I played with Geoff Church (he’s still around, with ‘Just 4’) before initiating Ferment, the band with which I spent my musical adolescence. We played at art exhibitions and sculpture gardens with painters, actors and poets such as Nic Cottis. We were very lucky to get work depping for Mike Westbrook with the Welfare State Theatre Company. That’s where I met hairy brilliant pianist Dave Holland for the first time.

I took a job in research in the depths of status aware Surrey, mistakenly believing it was close enough to London to get involved in the jazz scene. I attended every Jazz Centre Society gig I could and caught the paper train back at two thirty in the morning. My landlady’s doorstep became a familiar bed.

London itself was a huge disappointment. Let’s face it, I was crap. I ran a jazz workshop at Battersea Arts Centre and other workshops all over London until Thatcher. Putney library had an excellent music section and I learned writing and arranging by the seat of my pants, trying out ideas on the unfortunate Battersea workshop. There were good musicians around, like Marcio Mattos and Chris Francis, but I think I was beneath them. I was recommended to go to Charles Chapman for lessons; he was very strait laced, but brilliant. We had some lively but informative conversations. I still maintain that Keith Jarett is worth listening to.

By now I had discovered Carla Bley and Béla Bartók, Charles Ives and Peter Maxwell Davies. I met Gary Smith and joined his hugely influential Acme Quartet. I saw Miles, Rahsaan, Ornette and Sun Ra. Stewarding for the Camden Jazz Festival was great, but the Plough at Stockwell was even better, where the big stars played for nothing. There were sometimes bizarre combinations like Red Norvo with Barry Guy; this could be a disaster or utterly stunning. I studied avant-garde music at the City Lit and joined Saxoviotrump then Sensible Music, which blew me away (and back again) working with French horn, guitar, shakuhachi and percussion. Clive Bell’s playing completely changed my approach to music. A short season with a circus (as clown and stiltwalker) led to sea shanties; arranging music to accompany a Ben Johnson play to Elizabethan music. Bristol Musician’s Co-op ran some wonderful festivals and I whizzed between the two cities; their record label Zyzzle released my LP. A network of co-ops and collectives sprang up all over Britain and we took turns at being the audience.

Economic necessity forced me to get a job as a technician in a school. That was brilliant, and they let me have time off to do gigs in Europe, but after seven years I needed to get back to serious (or hilarious) playing. I went to a community arts course at Manchester Poly. The course was rubbish, but I played jazz every Thursday in the Square Albert and recorded with Bip Bap Bop, a sort of Hip Hap Hop band, with sampling and scratching going on to reggae and free form versions of Mingus and Sinatra.

A couple of years on the road with dance and theatre companies made me long for rural life again, and I settled in post industrial Lancashire, earning a reasonable living teaching saxophone. The area was culturally isolated; the only playing to be had was rhythm and blues. I played Mustang Sally four nights a week for nine years. Manchester gave access to Jan Garbarek, Andy Sheppard and Carla Bley, but I didn’t like the city any more. I had moved North as a young man and suddenly I was in late middle age. I had been in exile for fifteen years. I fled back to Devon to re-acquaint myself with yellowhammers and scarlet pimpernel. I’m still learning, but since I’ve been back I have played 14 th century music, saxophone quartets, and in big bands as well as jazz. I hope to develop my writing and involve all these influences.