After doing time in such well-known Bay area acts as Barely Pink and Magadog, Chicago-born, Tampa-grown bassist Gabe Freedman moved north and burrowed into the now insanely hip Williamsburg area of Brooklyn. He emerged as DJ/producer/warehouse-party host Dub Gabriel, and has since earned a worldwide reputation for both his Brooklyn Massive events and his reggae- and Middle Eastern-influenced output.
As his sophomore solo effort Bass Jihad hits critics' desks to considerable acclaim, he talks about his life since leaving Tampa, and how New York City got him off his ass.
When you were living down here, you were known primarily as a live-band bass player. Can you pinpoint when your interests began to skew more toward production?
The production stuff was starting to get interesting back in Tampa, when Martin [Klein, owner of Housequake Studios] had his studio. I would sneak into there. I definitely didn't refine my chops, but whatever, [I started learning] while I was living [in the studio].
But after Magadog, and touring and doing all that with eight to 10 guys, to sort of do your own thing, it seemed alluring. I loved the whole experience, but it sort of exhausted me 'cause we were really pushing it, a lot of guys with different personalities on the road being super-poor. So I came up here, and I just tapped into a good circle of people who were making beats, doing bedroom production.
Was there a point when you realized you just weren't being fulfilled by "the band thing?"
I still love doing projects from time to time. It was more out of … I was in a new city, and trying to find out who I was, developing my own sound. Being in a band is the best thing and the worst thing at the same time. It's a relationship, there is compromise, all those elements. I love the bass and it's my main instrument. But I had to figure out who I was to remain creative. And it's very difficult to have a band in New York. Any decent musician is going to be in five different projects. It's so much easier in Florida.
When did you head up to New York?
The beginning of '98. I'm in my eighth year here, which is crazy to think about. Time flies.
Were you aware of this sort of new-dub, World Beat-influenced scene beforehand?
I knew a little bit about it. I give a lot of credit to things like WMNF and Vinyl Fever and [Tampa Bay-based concert promoter] No Clubs. Through working at Vinyl Fever, I'd get exposed to stuff like Bill Laswell, Material's Hallucination Engine. But I didn't know the extent of it.
How did you first begin to assimilate yourself into that scene? I remember hearing that you were doing a live drum 'n' bass thing with [fellow Tampa expatriate] John Roberts…
That was actually after I got connected. One of my first friends here was Professor Shehab, this Persian producer who would work with Laswell, and his studio used to be right down from my place. Now it's in New Jersey, but you used to see Bootsy Collins hanging out on the corner.
I was working at a drum 'n' bass label, just being a bass player, and starting to do the production stuff. But I kept getting offered DJ gigs, and in New York, money talks. So between whatever records I had and raiding the label's records, I started doing stuff at, like, Limelight.
Then John moved up. By that time I was already collaborating with Shehab, doing beats and remixes. And I wanted to do a live project. It was great when [Roberts] moved up.
We did some really cool things. Back at that time, Williamsburg wasn't very developed. We started doing the warehouse party thing, totally DIY, doing stuff with Dr. Israel and Boogie Down Productions. It just sort of spun out from there. I haven't worked a day gig since. I'm just hustling it, for better or worse.
Tell me about the Brooklyn Massive events.
That's what spun out of the early warehouse parties. It was supposed to be multimedia, multicultural parties. We've done over 500 events since I started it up. This year will be the second year we're doing a showcase at CMJ Marathon. It's been awesome. I've done 'em everywhere, The Knitting Factory, Tonic, Limelight, parties in L.A. and San Francisco and Berlin and Warsaw, combining with other people in other places.
It's just basically trying to make an event I would want to go to. There's a million things going on in New York, but it's a little different. In Tampa, because there's not as much going on, people still get excited about going to a show. I hardly ever go to concerts now, and I used to get so excited about going to concerts.
Do you have other regular live-appearance duties just now?
I did stuff for three years at Kush Lounge; I was Creative Director over there and got it going. It's this hookah lounge-like place over on the Upper East Side. A lot of interesting people come out now, like DJ Spooky. It's become sort of a haven for that kind of stuff. I've been doing that, and I've done residencies just about everywhere in town. But right now, I'm trying to do some touring and one-off stuff. When you do the regular thing, it gets exhausting.
Your first solo album, Ascend, came out on Baboon Records, and your new one, Bass Jihad, is out on Azra. What's up with your label with Professor Shehab, Baraka Foundation?
Baboon's what Baraka Foundation turned into. We did 40-something releases with Baraka, and then six so far with Baboon. It's just been such a shitty economy since 2001, now I'm letting someone else put out my records. Running a label is a hard-working gig.
Now that Bass Jihad is finished, what's on the agenda?
I just finished the third record, actually. I'm doing a lot of press for Bass Jihad. Just finished a project called Bamboo Brothers with another producer and that's being mastered. It's really good, it combines World and dub with vintage key stuff – Hammond B3, Rhodes piano. It's a funkier album.
And just touring. I found out an hour ago I'm doing three shows in eight days – Montreal, Berlin. I actually might be moving to Berlin in the next couple of months. There's a club that's going to open up over there, and they want me for a residency.
So now that you're an international superstar DJ, are you ready to move back to Tampa and just chill out?
I'm ready, man. You know how it is. It's a love-hate relationship, it doesn't matter where the fuck you are. I dig on Tampa so much. It's like anything, there are things that make you glad you're not there and things that you miss about not being there. The easier, more laid-back lifestyle is such a great thing, but sometimes it's hard to get motivated, focused. Up here, I had to do it in order to survive.
SCOTT.HARRELL@WEEKLYPLANET.COM
This article appears in Jul 6-12, 2005.