It was inevitable, really, that Soulive would get sucked into the jam-band universe. And that perplexes Neal Evans, who plays organ and clavinet for the New York soul-jazz groove trio. “I think it’s sad if you get clustered into a group of other musicians who are so foreign,” he says. “I just don’t get it. Are people listening to the music, or just relating to a scene? I listen to so-called jam bands and there’s not one thing about them you could compare us to.”
It depends on how you define it. Certainly, if you look to the genre’s fountainhead, the Grateful Dead, you’ll find little connection to Soulive. Same with Phish and Disco Biscuits and all the other trippy meanderers. Soulive is a tight, funky unit, yo. They share groove-intensive musical DNA with the likes of Medeski Martin & Wood, Charlie Hunter, Karl Denson, even Galactic. Last time we checked, these acts were lumped into the jam world, too.
Besides, membership has its benefits. Instead of playing five-night engagements at small, sit-down jazz clubs in major cities, Soulive performs all over the country, in all types of venues, mostly without seats and usually with several hundred folks in various degrees of dancing frenzy. Their eclectic audience includes hippies, frat-boys, funk fiends, jazzbos, hip-hoppers and more. And on this count, Evans is grateful. “I’m open to anyone coming out and supporting the music,” he says.
Because of their instrumentation — Neal Evans on organ, clavinet and synth bass (he doesn’t use the pedals on his B-3), his brother Alan on drums and Eric Krasno on guitar — Soulive has drawn comparisons to fabled jazz “organ trios” led by the likes of Jimmy Smith and Brother Jack McDuff. There’s a connection, sure, but Soulive eschews swing-based beats and has a more group-oriented approach to improvisation. The trio more aptly reflects the likes of James Brown, P-Funk and Herbie Hancock’s Headhunters band, with whiffs of hip-hop and revival-tent fervor. Most of the songs revolve around a chunky guitar riff or wah-wah-laced chords, and from there the cats launch into solos and work the groove to death.
Soulive’s first two albums on Blue Note, 2001’s Doin’ Something and last year’s Next, involved guest instrumentalists (like JB alum Fred Wesley) and vocalists (Dave Matthews, rapper Talib Kweli). Their ’03 self-titled outing is a stripped trio throwdown recorded live at select U.S. venues.
“I think the best way to experience us is live — if we have a good night,” Evans says with a laugh.
The Evans brothers grew up in Buffalo, N.Y., in a household that pulsed with music. Their father, a high school gym teacher, kept a drum kit in the basement so he could play along with his Miles and Coltrane albums. An older brother was a DJ with a mammoth record collection that filled the younger siblings’ ears with the likes of Hendrix, Sly and Bob Marley.
Neal and Alan played in bands as pre-teens and ended up in the highly regarded New England funk-rock ensemble Moon Boot Lover. Alan worked with Denson in his Tiny Universe and the Greyboy All-Stars. Neal, who didn’t start playing organ until age 19, attended Manhattan School of Music, studying with piano legend Jaki Byard.
In ’99, the brothers converged on Woodstock, N.Y., to see what came from some jamming with a vibes player. When he backed out, they shifted gears and enlisted Krasno, most noted for his work in the Boston funk band Lettuce. Soulive almost instantly became a fixture on the Northeastern jam-band circuit. The guys relocated to NYC and bought cheap suits at a thrift store to establish an upscale image. They landed an every-Wednesday gig at a club called Baby Jupiter, where their sets started at 1:30 a.m. and lasted till around 4. Soon enough, they were packing the joint.
Blue Note came knocking. They bought better suits. Dave Matthews snagged them as openers for an arena tour. They warmed up for the Rolling Stones in Philadelphia. Soulive’s first two albums pushed sales of 50,000 units, hits by jazz standards.
These days, the combo does about 150 dates a year. They’re rock-star hot in Japan and play European jazz festivals. The latter gigs can be frustrating, though. “I hate showing up at a festival and finding out we get 45 minutes or an hour,” Evans says. “It’s ridiculous. We might do five tunes, and all of them feel constrained. Two-and-a-half hours is more our speed.”
Contact Senior Writer Eric snider at 813-248-8888, ext. 114 or at snider@weeklyplanet.com.
This article appears in Jun 11-17, 2003.
