Etienne Charles

The connection between the jazz, blues, soul, hip-hop, and gospel genres has been well-documented. Etienne Charles exemplifies that amalgamation as well as anyone. Hailing from the Trinidad, mastering the trumpet, bringing all of the above together to make great music that stretches beyond one particular genre. Charles is four albums in thus far (he’s also a professor at Michigan St.), but his latest endeavor, Creole Soul (released July 2013), is arguably his most ambitious.

“As a person in the new world, I’ve been influenced by so much music,” says Charles. “And my family has a mixed background, with French Caribbean, Spanish, and African roots, as well as Venezuelan influences. I come from a fusion of rhythms, a fusion of cultures. That’s what this album is all about: focusing on soul music that is Creole at heart.”

Life+Times caught up with Charles to discuss the album and what all music coming from the Black diaspora has in common.

Life+Times: Where did you get the album title from, and what does it mean?
Etienne Charles: Well I wanted to make sure the album made an influence. To me, there’s no other way to say that other than “creole.” We’re all mixed up, we all have different stuff in our system, different blood, so what I wanted to do with the title was showcase that and also showcase the soul which is the feeling of it. That’s where the title came from. It was either gonna be Island Soul or Creole. Then I put the two together.



L+T: And the first song on the record is called “Creole.”
EC: The cut “Creole” is about a journey. I made a trip to Haiti at the beginning of last year and played at the jazz festival in Port Au Prince. Just being blown away by being in a place that you’ve heard a lot about for a long time. I’d been playing Haitian music for a couple years at that point, and finally getting to connect with the motherland of that music was really special. I’ve been to Africa and West Africa before, and to see the similarities between Haiti and the west coast of Africa was really special. So that’s where that tune came from.

L+T: You’ve mentioned that you were trying to convey a lot of different emotions. What sounds match up with those emotions?
EC: Ok, so the emotion of being in a struggle, that’s the sound of that first part of “Creole.” You’re in a new place, you’re looking around, you’re slowly discovering what’s going on and then you start coming up with your opinion. That’s the first part of the tune where the groove sets and then the trumpet starts soloing. The feeling of sunrise or waking up or realizing where you are is when we get to that bridge section where it brightens up, we go to a major key. You realize, “Ok, this is what it is.” You’re no longer confused. And then at the end when it goes back to the first part is when that confusion is demolished.

L+T: With jazz, blues, soul, hip-hop, gospel, etc., how are all of those Black forms of music interrelated? That’s something you seem to be hitting on with this record?
EC: I always talk about this with my friends and my students, as well. When you look at the diaspora and the music of the diaspora, the common denominator is call and response. In the Caribbean countries, you have the Grio, which is like the master, the person that leads the chant. Then that person improvises off the chant. It’s the same thing in the gospel church: you have the preacher or pastor. Same thing in hip-hop, you have the emcee rapping – and again, the hip-hop tradition has strong roots in the Caribbean, as well. DJ Kool Herc, Pete Rock, Heavy D, Q-Tip, Busta Rhymes – who’s one of my personal favorites – all those cats have West Indian roots. That common denominator, is that call and response. A lot of people talk about trying to differentiate Black music, like, “This is jazz, this is R&B, this is hip-hop,” but we’re really talking about the same thing. The artistic sides of them are different: one uses certain types of harmony, another uses certain types of grooves, another uses predominantly just lyrics, but at the end of the day, it’s all about the call and response and the music has to groove.

L+T: Six of the ten songs are original compositions. What was the creative process on those records and what were the contributions you got from the band?
EC: I tend to write based on grooves, so what I normally do – with a tune like “Roots,” for example – is this: I had been listening to Martinique grooves, grooves especially from the French Caribbean, and I had been listening to field recordings. From that, then I sat down with the drums, and immediately I started hearing a bass line. From the bass line – I sang it over and over to figure out the pitch – then I went to piano and started playing the bass line; from there I found the harmony with my right hand. Then after I let the groove set for a little while, the melody came. Same idea for “Creole”. It was all about that congo groove and hearing that groove over and over. The - Life and Times

The connection between the jazz, blues, soul, hip-hop, and gospel genres has been well-documented. Etienne Charles exemplifies that amalgamation as well as anyone. Hailing from the Trinidad, mastering the trumpet, bringing all of the above together to make great music that stretches beyond one particular genre. Charles is four albums in thus far (he’s also a professor at Michigan St.), but his latest endeavor, Creole Soul (released July 2013), is arguably his most ambitious.

“As a person in the new world, I’ve been influenced by so much music,” says Charles. “And my family has a mixed background, with French Caribbean, Spanish, and African roots, as well as Venezuelan influences. I come from a fusion of rhythms, a fusion of cultures. That’s what this album is all about: focusing on soul music that is Creole at heart.”

Life+Times caught up with Charles to discuss the album and what all music coming from the Black diaspora has in common.

Life+Times: Where did you get the album title from, and what does it mean?
Etienne Charles: Well I wanted to make sure the album made an influence. To me, there’s no other way to say that other than “creole.” We’re all mixed up, we all have different stuff in our system, different blood, so what I wanted to do with the title was showcase that and also showcase the soul which is the feeling of it. That’s where the title came from. It was either gonna be Island Soul or Creole. Then I put the two together.



L+T: And the first song on the record is called “Creole.”
EC: The cut “Creole” is about a journey. I made a trip to Haiti at the beginning of last year and played at the jazz festival in Port Au Prince. Just being blown away by being in a place that you’ve heard a lot about for a long time. I’d been playing Haitian music for a couple years at that point, and finally getting to connect with the motherland of that music was really special. I’ve been to Africa and West Africa before, and to see the similarities between Haiti and the west coast of Africa was really special. So that’s where that tune came from.

L+T: You’ve mentioned that you were trying to convey a lot of different emotions. What sounds match up with those emotions?
EC: Ok, so the emotion of being in a struggle, that’s the sound of that first part of “Creole.” You’re in a new place, you’re looking around, you’re slowly discovering what’s going on and then you start coming up with your opinion. That’s the first part of the tune where the groove sets and then the trumpet starts soloing. The feeling of sunrise or waking up or realizing where you are is when we get to that bridge section where it brightens up, we go to a major key. You realize, “Ok, this is what it is.” You’re no longer confused. And then at the end when it goes back to the first part is when that confusion is demolished.

L+T: With jazz, blues, soul, hip-hop, gospel, etc., how are all of those Black forms of music interrelated? That’s something you seem to be hitting on with this record?
EC: I always talk about this with my friends and my students, as well. When you look at the diaspora and the music of the diaspora, the common denominator is call and response. In the Caribbean countries, you have the Grio, which is like the master, the person that leads the chant. Then that person improvises off the chant. It’s the same thing in the gospel church: you have the preacher or pastor. Same thing in hip-hop, you have the emcee rapping – and again, the hip-hop tradition has strong roots in the Caribbean, as well. DJ Kool Herc, Pete Rock, Heavy D, Q-Tip, Busta Rhymes – who’s one of my personal favorites – all those cats have West Indian roots. That common denominator, is that call and response. A lot of people talk about trying to differentiate Black music, like, “This is jazz, this is R&B, this is hip-hop,” but we’re really talking about the same thing. The artistic sides of them are different: one uses certain types of harmony, another uses certain types of grooves, another uses predominantly just lyrics, but at the end of the day, it’s all about the call and response and the music has to groove.

L+T: Six of the ten songs are original compositions. What was the creative process on those records and what were the contributions you got from the band?
EC: I tend to write based on grooves, so what I normally do – with a tune like “Roots,” for example – is this: I had been listening to Martinique grooves, grooves especially from the French Caribbean, and I had been listening to field recordings. From that, then I sat down with the drums, and immediately I started hearing a bass line. From the bass line – I sang it over and over to figure out the pitch – then I went to piano and started playing the bass line; from there I found the harmony with my right hand. Then after I let the groove set for a little while, the melody came. Same idea for “Creole”. It was all about that congo groove and hearing that groove over and over. The - Life and Times

You may have heard that it’s hard for a jazz musician to find respect beyond what seems like a fixed number of close followers and students. Musicians can ignore that situation, or respond to it. Etienne Charles’s new recording, “Creole Soul,” on his label Culture Shock Music, is a smart response.
He’s a trumpeter from Trinidad who studied music at Florida State University and Juilliard, and his three previous albums have moved from informed and flexible post-’80s mainstream jazz, connected to the work of Wynton Marsalis and Marcus Roberts, toward Antillean rhythm and song, especially calypso. But his music is also moving from study toward entertainment, and he’s learned and evolved a lot while still young. On Tuesday night, for his recording-release show at Le Poisson Rouge, he played the first notes of the set at the of age of 29 and the last at 30.

There’s not a lot of furrowed-brow music on “Creole Soul.” It adds denser rhythm and slicker pop dynamics; there are fewer moments concerned with showing off jazz-school chops. It’s easy to listen to. It could and should extend his appeal to listeners who like R&B or various adult-contemporary offshoots of jazz. But it’s also intellectually sound, going deeper into Mr. Charles’s basic interest, which is the affinities between Caribbean music and music from the American South, New Orleans jazz in particular. It doesn’t feel too academic or too grasping, overscripted or shallow. He’s got it about as right as he can.

Tuesday’s show, with a full house, reconfirmed Mr. Charles’s drive toward pop, and toward more rhythm. His band included Victor Provost, a serious jazz improviser, on the steel pan; the trap-set drummer John Davis; and two more percussionists, Daniel Sadownick and D’Achee, or three in the valuable moments when Mr. Charles put down his trumpet and joined them. Here was a version of Bob Marley’s “Turn Your Lights Down Low,” slow and low impact, with strings of easygoing solos and a singalong; a version of the reggae standard “You Don’t Love Me (No No No),” originally adapted from a Bo Diddley song; a tune written for his parents called “The Folks” that combined romantic jazz-ballad tones with a persistent Caribbean beat landing on the two and four; and a blowout jam at the end, “Doin’ the Thing,” which could be described either as jazz explicitly for dancing or calypso with “I Got Rhythm” changes and tenacious improvising.

Some of these musicians have played with Mr. Charles for a while, some not. Some aren’t on the record itself. (The pianist Taylor Eigsti filled in for Kris Bowers, and Mr. Davis for Obed Calvaire; the tenor saxophonist Jacques Schwartz-Bart and the excellent, strong-toned bassist Ben Williams were on the album and at the show as well.) And so, while everyone played well — especially Mr. Charles, precise in tone, highly controlled in phrasing — this wasn’t necessarily a band whose internal chemistry had its own life.

But that might not matter. Mr. Charles seems legitimately committed to finding listeners who don’t necessarily need that kind of subtlety and intuition. Here, the songs and the persistence of the groove matter more. The trade-off is less mystery, more immediate pleasure. The only thing needed now is for the band go deeper into those pleasure spots, the rhythm and the songs and the riffs, to make the music more explosive, because at times one got the sense of a music that looks better on paper — or sounds better on record — than it does up close and in real time. - New York Times

By John Murph - Downbeat Magazine

ETIENNE CHARLES

“Kaiso”

(Culture Shock Music)

Etienne Charles, a 28-year-old jazz trumpeter and percussionist from Trinidad, isn’t the first to merge calypso and jazz. Calypso belongs in the family of Antillean rhythms that are indivisible from jazz; and anyway, playing jazz usually leads you back to your own identity. But he’s one of the more ambitious soloists and composers to do it.

On “Kaiso,” his third album, he’s bringing Port-of-Spain Carnival melodies and rhythms from the 1930s to the 1970s through a now-ish jazz filter. His own trumpet playing, bright and rapid, easy-swinging even in difficult passages, sounds indebted to Wynton Marsalis’s; Mr. Charles studied with the pianist Marcus Roberts at Florida State University in the last decade, and it shows in tightly organized, almost transparent arrangements. Mr. Charles likes jazz that’s crisp and ambitious but never unruly, powered by clean and swinging rhythm, harmonically coming out of the mid-1960s.

Besides that kind of sound, the record brings two others: tunes with a string orchestra, which are light-and-lush misfires; and two collaborations with the calypso singer and guitarist Lord Superior, which bring the project closer to the ground, dealing with rhythm and history. (They are versions of Lord Kitchener’s “Kitch’s Bebop Calypso” and “My Landlady,” and to ground you in the logic of this album, you might want to hear their original versions on the compilation album “London Is the Place for Me,” a collection of jazz-curious recordings made by Trinidadians in England during the 1950s — an almost perfect example of the information feedback-loop among black cultures.)

It’s all well conceived. Mr. Charles knows how to make an album more than just a calling card for a small band, and how to sequence it too; he’s an auteur. But you should also know that this record contains a top-level rhythm section, which gives the music elaborate immediacy, making it stretch and bounce: the young pianist Sullivan Fortner, the bassist Ben Williams and the drummer Obed Calvaire. Despite the strength of the guiding ideas, they often supply the record’s deepest pleasures. BEN RATLIFF

- New York Times

By Sharonne Cohen - Jazz Times

http://www.box.net/shared/pgau67q4z0a6s0146u9x - Jazz Times

Trinidad native and Juilliard-trained trumpeter Etienne Charles artfully and organically blends Afro-Caribbean folkloric music and jazz improvisation on his second recording as a leader. With a lineup of international all-stars including Guadeloupean tenor saxophonist Jacques Schwarz-Bart, Serbian pianist Milan Milanovic, Trinidadian steel pans player Len “Boogsie” Sharpe, veteran percussionist Ralph MacDonald and the powerful rhythm tandem of bassist Luques Curtis and the extraordinary young drummer Obed Calvaire, Charles establishes the rich premise on the opening title track then explores the fusion further on a suite of music based on West African-Caribbean mythology.

Each tune here is named for a different character in Afro-Caribbean folkloric tradition—“Douens,” “Dance With la Diablesse,” “Soucouyant,” “Mama d’lo,” “Mama Malade” and “Papa Bois.” Charles, a brilliant technician with a bright sound and sharp attack, is complemented on the frontline by the powerful playing of Schwarz-Bart. Together they harness hard-bop energy, push into heightened Trane territory, settle into gorgeous ballads and traverse a whole litany of Trinidadian rhythms. A daring improviser, Charles also delivers with heart-wrenching lyricism on the beautiful ballad “Mysterieuse.” A fascinating, fully realized hybrid.
- Jazz Times

There appears to be a trend developing—and a positive one, whereby young jazz artists drive the future of their—and ultimately our—music by reviving the musical heritage of the past. And, by exploring and leveraging the fundamental power and beauty of that music, they create new and vibrant musical art. Certainly the most widely known of these retro-explorers is Wynton Marsalis. With Folklore, an offering of both compositional and instrumental brilliance, trumpeter/composer Etienne Charles admirably solidifies his place as an explorer, a true griot and visionary.

Using the thematic structure of a suite of original compositions all based upon the mythologies and mythological characters of his Trinidadian/Afro-Caribbean heritage, Charles delivers in Folklore an old and new "testament" to the roots and future of his birthplace's native music. The selections, incorporating both instrumental and vocal forms, magnificently display the rich, diverse heritage of Afro-Caribbean music and culture.

Charles, a fourth-generation Trinidadian musician and winner of the 2006 National Trumpet Competition and other honors, performs brilliantly throughout. His playing is intelligent, emotionally charged, and flavored with the fire and spice that emanated from African roots, to the Caribbean and, ultimately, to the womb of jazz, New Orleans. Blessedly talented and highly sensitive to this music, Charles and his players all display a respect and restraint that is admirable and mature.

Rhythmic nuance, tonal diversity and intensity are the names of the games here. From the percussive and Yoruba chant entrances of the title cut through the infectiously playful calypso, "Douens," the intense "Soucouyant," pan-featured "Santimanite," and throughout the entire session, textures and pulses throb.

Charles' gorgeous, lyrical sound ("Dance with la Diablesse," "Mama Malade," "Mysterieuse") and inventive solo excursions beautifully integrate into the entire concept. There's a maturity here that belies this trumpeter's youth. Guadeloupian saxophonist Jacques Schwarz-Bart, glides, pulls and evokes fire in all his solos. Pianist Milan Milanovic solos and comps impressively, bassist Luques Curtis and drummer Obed Calvaire, aided by guest percussionists Ralph MacDonald, D' Achee, and Ray Charles and tenor pan performer Len "Boogsie" Sharpe, are wonderfully essential elements to this mix. The recording and production values here are outstanding.

What truly distinguishes Folklore is the fact that this music is not by any means a paled or half-assed attempt at revival of "old" music. Charles' compositional approach feeds off the genre and content brilliantly. The jazz overtones provide a peek at where that genre might be headed. The music is literally visionary, so much so that, like the aforementioned Pulitzer-winning Marsalis, Charles could eventually take his bag of compositional genius into film, theatrical or operatic worlds.

Folklore is a significant musical achievement. Jazz purists might bark that there is not enough straight-ahead bopping. However, they might be cautioned that some of the interesting mythological characters alluded to in Folklore might show up unannounced to offer a pleasant, enlightened peek at the once and future jazz. As for Etienne Charles' music, based on Folklore—that future is nothing but brilliantly sunlit.

Track listing: Folklore; Douens; Dance with la Diablesse; Laja who?; Mama Malade; Soucouyant; Mysterieuse; Mama d'lo; Santimanite; Papa Bois; Folklore (story).

Personnel: Etienne Charles: trumpet, flugelhorn, percussion, vocals, double seconds, cuatro; Jacques Schwarz-Bart: tenor, soprano saxophones; Milan Milanovic: piano; Luques Curtis, bass; Obed Calvaire: drums; Ralph MacDonald: percussion (2, 5, 9); Len "Boogsie" Sharpe tenor pan (9); D'Achee: percussion (1, 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 11); Ray Charles: percussion (1, 2, 4, 8, 10, 11); Keith "Designer" Prescott: vocals (1, 11); Wendell Manwarten: vocals (1, 11), narrative (11); Roger Roberts: vocals (1, 11).
- All About Jazz