Gemini said A high-contrast, black-and-white group portrait of Don Was and the Pan-Detroit Ensemble captures the nine-piece collective posed on an outdoor metal staircase against a rustic brick building. In the front center, Don Was sits prominently, wearing his signature wide-brimmed hat, sunglasses, and a dark hoodie. He is flanked by vocalist Steffanie Christi’an to his right and drummer Jeff Canaday—wearing a "Bad Brains" T-shirt—to his left. Standing in the far-left foreground is saxophonist David McMurray, distinguished by a patterned scarf and sunglasses. Behind them on the middle steps sit percussionist Mahindi Masai, wearing a "Lions" T-shirt and a fedora, and trombonist Vincent Chandler in a baseball cap. At the top of the stairs, framed by a large wooden door, stand the remaining members: guitarist Wayne Gerard in a leather jacket on the left, trumpeter John Douglas in the center, and keyboardist Luis Resto on the right wearing a fedora. The image, credited to Tristan Williams, exudes a gritty, soulful Detroit aesthetic, reflecting the band’s deep roots in the city's musical legacy. — Don Was and the Pan-Detroit Ensemble Credit: Tristan Williams

Was (Not Was), uh, wasn’t the only brush with critical acclaim that its co-founder Don Was had, you know.

When the multifaceted 73-year-old music man isn’t working behind the console for the likes of The Highwaymen and The Rolling Stones—or being president of Blue Note Records for the last 14 years—he’s been on the road as musical director for a touring celebration of The Band’s The Last Waltz, or slapping the upright bass for his pal Bob Weir in Wolf Brothers (one of the last pre-COVID-19 shows in Tampa Bay).

This year, things look different for Was’ road schedule, especially since his new Pan-Detroit Ensemble is living up to the name of its debut album Groove In the Face of Adversity, which released last fall.

While yes, the band gets through pretty much the entirety of the record—a six-tracker of soulful, Detroit-esque renditions of songs that have spoken to Was and friends—but Weir’s passing last month shook Was to his core, so it was almost inevitable for him to throw a whole Grateful Dead portion into the set. It’s also been said that the ensemble is putting a sophomore album together at the moment, so for all we know, this tour won’t be the last new reminder of Was’ love for his Wolf Brother.

Before the band arrives in Clearwater this week, Was told Creative Loafing Tampa Bay about the album that changed his worldview. Read his full quote below.

I can tell you the thing that really inspired me. When I was 19, I was going to the University of Michigan — I was in the music school. Back then, if you were in the music school, it meant you were in the orchestra. They didn’t have the kind of programs they have now. They have great programs at University of Michigan now, but they didn’t have electronic music, they didn’t have jazz, they didn’t have recording. So I dropped out, which I’ve come to regret over the years. I should’ve put the extra time in, and I’d be a much better bass player today if I stuck it out.

But I was really adrift, man. I dropped out of school, I was in Ann Arbor, I wanted to be in a band like the MC5 or the Stooges, and they were local bands at that time. They were still living there in 1970 or ’71. But the only gig I could find was playing in a bowling alley in an Italian restaurant, doing covers of Carpenters songs. It was rough. I was a little lost, and what I would do to find my way was go back to my little apartment in Ann Arbor, and I’d put on Speak No Evil by Wayne Shorter, which happens to be a Blue Note record.

I didn’t know that 50 years down the line, I’d be the president of the company — I was just a fan of the music, and what I liked about the record was when I played side two, I could relate to the energy of Elvin Jones. He’s a Detroit guy, and if you listen to his playing, it’s got this rambunctious…he’s like the MC5 of elegant jazz drummers, Elvin Jones. And Herbie Hancock, you could tell that even though he’s in his 20s, he knew more about harmony than maybe anyone walking the face of the earth. But it was really Wayne’s playing. Listen to side two of that album, man. Put on the song “Speak No Evil.” I didn’t hear a saxophone or notes; I heard Wayne talking to me. His playing is incredibly conversational.

What I used to envision was that it was something like a video game, except we didn’t have video games in 1971! I envisioned that we were walking down the street together and facing all these obstacles like you would in a video game. And Wayne was telling me “don’t stare that guy in the eyes. Cross the street. Whatever you’ve got to do, don’t deal with these guys here.” The music was telling me how to get through life, as if walking down a main street. And there was something about the way he spoke to me and guided me that helped me remember what my hopes and dreams were, and why I moved to Ann Arbor in the first place. It got me refocused, and I understood that music, and especially music without lyrics, was having this effect on me. And I did think, “man, it would be a really good calling in life to help make other records that have the same effect on other people.”

I really think that was the moment I decided to start producing records. So it had to do with an album and the poetry of music speaking to me, and showing me by example how music could make the world a better place, and bring comfort, understanding and perspective to the listener. And truthfully, that’s all I’ve really tried to do with my life: Make records as a producer, as an artist, and as the president of a record company. It’s all part of the same process. -Don Was

Tickets to see Don Was and the Pan-Detroit Ensemble play downtown Clearwater’s Bilheimer Capitol Theatre on Thursday, Feb. 12 are still available and start at $44.50.