The influential jazz guitarist’s new release, The Next Step Band (Live at Smalls, 1996), captures a performance at NYC’s Smalls at a time when the venue was emerging as a local creative hotbed. He’s also publishing a career-spanning book of compositions, and together, the works demonstrate a jazz-guitar genius in search of musical and existential truth.
Kurt Rosenwinkel’s 2000 Verve release, The Next Step, changed the jazz-guitar world. Up until that point, the big names of the ’60s and ’70s still dominated the landscape. The Next Step signified a new voice, and soon, a number of younger players began to try to emulate Kurt’s sound, approach, and even the way he dressed.
Fully saturated in bebop language, Kurt had created a modern, signature style grounded in stunning compositions. His band was full of what we now know as some of the most accomplished jazz musicians of the era: Mark Turner on tenor sax, Ben Street on bass, and Jeff Ballard on drums.
How interesting, then, to find out that this body of work was fully formed years earlier, as evidenced by his latest release, The Next Step Band (Live at Smalls, 1996). Between 1994 and 2001, the group had a weekly residency at Smalls, the West Village club that was becoming a proving ground for New York City’s straight-ahead elite. By 1996, they had already developed a remarkable chemistry, inhabiting Kurt’s challenging compositions with empathy and authority. A recording was made of one of the shows on Alesis Digital Audio Tape, or ADAT, which Kurt carried around with him for almost three decades.
“We were four very strong personalities. Would we survive on the road again?”
Why release it now? “My wife had been suggesting for several years that I revisit this era,” Rosenwinkel says. “I was resistant. I couldn’t see the point in looking back. Also, we were four very strong personalities. Would we survive on the road again? I finally had some time in my schedule and listened, and I knew it was time to share this history.”
Kurt Rosenwinkel & The Next Step Band - "The Next Step"
Rosenwinkel says that the development of the music was “part and parcel” with the room at Smalls. “It was a great room for music with a lot of detail; bebop-based things with quick turns,” he says. “We had the fortune of having this steady gig every week, and I was writing music all the time. We would rehearse at my place in Brooklyn. Ben and Mark lived close by, and Jeff was just over the bridge on Varick Street. I had already spent a lot of time playing duos with Ben, and when Mark and I met we had an instant connection. So from the start, we bonded. We would experience a kind of telepathy on stage. I wrote a lot of those songs in one week when I was housesitting at Chris Cheek’s house in Brooklyn. We rehearsed during the week, and it was an intense period of study where I resolved to learn as much as I could about the mechanics of the instrument.”
There are many remarkable aspects to what Kurt is doing. His compositions, from the start, demonstrate a fully mature, individual voice grounded in his forebears: Strayhorn, Coltrane, Bud Powell, Bill Evans. Kurt’s harmonic approach is extremely sophisticated. The changes can be profuse, surprises alight, and yet the music never feels overstuffed or pointlessly intellectual. As a soloist, his linear lines are charged with risk-taking drama, and his ability to accompany himself with perfectly placed chord shapes is uncanny. He never seems to run out of ideas. As if this isn’t enough, he manages to include several pieces on the record where he uses alternate tunings. It’s hard enough to play compositions with this much harmonic density in standard tuning. Doing so by relearning where the notes are on the neck is mind-boggling. (The tuning is B♭–G–D♭–A♭–B♭–E♭.)
“From the start, we bonded. We would experience a kind of telepathy on stage.”
Why retune? “I was shedding incredibly long hours in those days,” says Rosenwinkel. “It got to the point where my intellectual focus was overwhelming. There was so much critical analysis of the fretboard going on that I felt I needed a beginner’s mind. The altered tuning came about because I wanted to sabotage my knowledge. I didn’t want to know anything when I touched the instrument. All the codification and classification were getting in the way of my enjoyment of the music. It was beautiful to not know what I was doing, and many of these songs came out of that. It really served its purpose, in terms of putting the intellect in its proper place. The deeper senses, the heart, need to lead your music. That being said, when I came back to the conventional tuning, I was really happy to feel as if I knew something again!”
The Next Step Band (Live at Smalls, 1996) is a snapshot of the rare musical and cultural symbiosis that made Smalls a hotspot for era-defining up-and-comers in the ’90s.
The community around the venue was part of the experience, too. “The scene at Smalls was such that you’d meet hundreds of people, coming in and out all the time, a whole spectrum of musicians including people my age, and an older generation that stretched all the way back to the ’50s, to Bud Powell and Charlie Parker. We’d hang out in the back room just talking all night. There was no bar—it was BYOB—so it was all about the music. There was all the rice and beans you could eat, which for some of us was our main sustenance during the week. People would live at Smalls. A couple times someone crawled out of the wall where they were sleeping in back of the stage, had a good stretch, and traipsed between us as we were playing! A lot of people had strong experiences with the music at that time, and I think you can hear that in the music.”
Kurt has also just released a massive book of his compositions—594 pages, 150 songs. Some nine years in the making, it’s a compendium of his life’s work. Not content just to print lead sheets, he has included printable PDFs of band arrangements, Sibelius files so readers can make their own arrangements, musings and reflections on each of the songs, and pictures from each time period. It’s a beautifully crafted presentation, suitable for a coffee table. I asked Kurt about the epic journey leading to this profuse, diverse, and deep collection of songs.
“The altered tuning came about because I wanted to sabotage my knowledge. I didn’t want to know anything when I touched the instrument.”“I began composing songs when I was nine years old; I’ve always considered myself a composer first,” he says. “I try to use every means at my disposal to help the writing process, going back and forth between piano, guitar, and the computer software. About one in 10 songs seems to come out relatively whole. In other cases, I can start with something, and find that it takes years to finish. ‘East Coast Love Affair’ was like that. I wrote the A section, and didn’t find the B section ’til three years later, when it came from another song I was working on. It’s like archaeology. You’re digging around in the soil for the valuable artifacts—dusting them off, putting the pieces together. I find my harmony by feelingwhat chord wants to come next, experimenting with light and dark. There have been periods in my life where I’ve written longer forms with a lot of complexity, and other times when I’ve gone for simplicity. As I’ve gotten older, it’s easier to get right down to it and get at the essence of the piece right away. I don’t really plan to write anything. I tend to wait for it to come to me.”
Kurt Rosenwinkel's Gear
Rosenwinkel says he doesn't have just one signature guitar sound, and he’s proud of that—he’s always chasing something he can never quite catch.
Photo by Aleks Končar
Guitars
- D’Angelico Master Builder New Yorker
- Westville Kurt Rosenwinkel Signature Vanguard
- Yamaha SG500
- Moffa Maryan
Amps
- Fractal Audio FM9
Effects
- Pro Co RAT
- EHX POG2
- Xotic EP Booster
- Line 6 Echo Pro
Strings & Picks
- Thomastik Infeld BB111 Jazz BeBop Strings
- Westville signature picks (tortoise, smooth, polished, celluloid 1.5 mm pick in traditional teardrop shape)
Was there a line connecting these different eras and focal points, from over three decades of putting pen to paper? “A prism comes to mind, something that reflects various aspects of your soul at different times. I’ve never been a person that needed to have a strong identity that is connected to any external thing, I tend to flow in and out of different identities. That’s what led me to do all kinds of different music, whether with [A Tribe Called Quest rapper/producer] Q-Tip, a whole textural thing, free improv, jazz tunes, and I’m even planning on making a rock record. I was totally into the so-called downtown thing in the ’90s, the Knitting Factory. Very few people in my circle at Smalls crossed over into that terrain. Whatever comes out of me, that’s the way it is. With Caipi [Rosenwinkel’s 2017 release featuring guitarist/singer Pedro Martins], for instance, I didn’t set out to make a Brazilian record. I just started to hear songs that had some of that vibe. It wasn’t a conscious process, it was all completely natural.”
“It’s like archaeology. You’re digging around in the soil for the valuable artifacts—dusting them off, putting the pieces together.”
Sifting through this book allows us to see the breadth of Kurt’s output. It starts with those early formative pieces on this new live record, tunes that are exuberant, harmonically elaborate, bebop-based, sometimes pensive. They dig into the past and fly into the future. We see a more quiet, meditative side from Deep Song. The Caipi record takes us into new rhythmic territory with pieces that have vocals. Star of Jupiter offers virtuosity that suggests the influence of Allan Holdsworth.
It’s interesting to see Rosenwinkel’s guitar sound morph as well. In the early and mid-’90s, he played an Epiphone Sheraton through a Polytone—not an atypical setup for the era. As time goes on, he continually experiments with any available technology, all in service of his liquid phrasing. At this point, he uses a Fractal Audio amp modeler for most effects, while still retaining the EHX POG, a box he was early to champion.
Rosenwinkel’s new compilation book, adorned on the cover with this photo, gathers decades of the guitarist’s compositions into one profound, exciting work.
Cover photo by Greg Miles
“I don’t have a signature sound,” says Rosenwinkel. “I have many signature sounds. When I recorded The Next Step, part of what I realized was that my ‘sound’ was what I was doing with my voice. I was unconsciously singing along to what I was playing. I had often hated the sound I got in recording studios in the ’90s. I realized that it was the blend of the guitar coming out of the amp and my voice that was what the audience was hearing. So we began recording my voice in the studio. A lot of people tried to copy that. The thing is that I’m always going for the same sound; it’s always been in my head, but I can’t ever reach it, so that’s why you get all these different iterations. I’ve heard people say that I should play with a more ‘pure’ guitar sound. But there is no pure guitar sound. Every pickup, every amplifier, every guitar is different. What I would like is if the guitar sounded the way it does before it’s plugged in. That would be my ideal, but you can’t get that. It has less attack, all these qualities that I’m trying to achieve. I don’t consider what I’m using as effects. They are all just tools for matching what I have in my mind to the instrument.”
“I’ve heard people say that I should play with a more ‘pure’ guitar sound. But there is no pure guitar sound.”
Rosenwinkel discusses his legato phrasing and his left-hand pull-offs and hammer-ons, flourishes that are unique amongst his contemporaries. “If every one of Charlie Parker’s lines had a transient to it, it would sound terrible,” says Rosenwinkel. “It would be too much rhythmic information. There’s emphasis and there’s continuity, and in that continuity you can hear all the content in the line. It’s the same with Lee Konitz. It’s fluid, very articulate, but liquid. The melodies are clear. I don’t want to be fighting with the ride cymbal in these transients. A lot of people who copy me get it wrong, because they don’t have the same very specific phrasing goals as me.”
With the Next Step Band, Rosenwinkel would sometimes play songs in unconventional tunings, complicating the already complex arrangements in a sort of challenge to himself.
Kurt is also an eloquent teacher. During the pandemic, he began to release a series of master classes with troves of information, and he’s a perennial and beloved instructor at the Alternative Guitar Summit Camp that I run in upstate New York every summer. This year, he shared illuminating details of his work with Heartcore, his record label. It’s become a place not only for his own releases, but a platform for deserving new artists who’ve profited from his attention. They’ve released over 20 records in nine years, and instituted a program where an employee of the label visits refugee camps in Europe and records children’s songs. Rosenwinkel then recruits master musician friends to create parts and arrangements to fill out the recording. All proceeds benefit the children.
Kurt expanded on these ventures while teaching at the guitar camp in late August. “I always wanted to start my own business,” he said. “I decided to build Heartcore as a vehicle for representing the light in music, how it illuminates the contours of our souls. In 2017, when we started, the landscape was pretty desolate. Old constructs were crumbling. So I gathered my resources, not only to release my own work, but to experience the joy of finding some cat tearing it up for whom I could provide a platform. We work really hard to spread this incredible music around the world, and I’m truly proud of what we’ve done.”
YouTube It
This grainy video captures part of a legendary Rosenwinkel set at his homebase, Smalls, in March 1997.
This time on Wong Notes, guitar legend Kurt Rosenwinkel joins Cory Wong to go deep on all things jazz. The genre has always been a haven for free-thinkers and adventurers, so it’s little surprise when Rosenwinkel reveals that he’s incorporated a Fractal FM9 into his live rig—though it’s still working in tandem with a good ol’ Fender tube amp.
Season of Stream Vol 1, Ep 11 | Kurt Rosenwinkel
Rosenwinkel divulges the details on his “softer, darker” attack, which combined with his approach to tone—including a fair bit of top-end roll-off—constitutes a big piece of his signature sound. Rosenwinkel’s forthcoming live record, The Next Step Band (Live at Smalls 1996), captures this sound in the place that formed it: New York City. Rosenwinkel takes Wong back to the halcyon days of the city’s kinetic 1990s “hardcore” bebop and free-jazz scene, where Mitch Borden’s legendary Smalls Jazz Club was an artistic hotbed (and crash pad) for players of all stripes.
Nowadays, more and more artists are forming their connections online rather in a jazz club. But can TikTok and Instagram replace an all-night jazz joint for up-and-coming players?
Tune in, and be sure to check out Kurt’s career-spanning new Ultimate Book of Compositions.
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The jazz guitarist flexes his muscles with Angels Around, a return to his beloved trio format that draws on inspirations from Monk to Bowie, while exploring digital tone shaping and prepping his debut rock album.
“If I had pictures of my heroes on the wall, you’d see Coltrane, Charlie Parker, Bud Powell, Biggie Smalls, David Bowie, maybe a Zeppelin album, and the Beatles,” guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel says.
Even via a transcontinental Zoom call I could see that his Berlin studio wasn’t a gear museum or memorabilia showcase. It’s a workspace that reflects his myriad influences and his never-ending string of varied projects. And Angels Around, his latest album, was recorded in this space with drummer Greg Hutchinson and bassist Dario Deidda, his gigging trio.
“I’ve always loved trios,” Rosenwinkel mentions. “The trio format is very dear to me and it’s a very intimate setting.” This affection stretches back to his first album as a leader, East Coast Love Affair, which was released in 1996 and recorded live at New York City’s Smalls Jazz Club, which was an incubator for a dynamic and youthful scene that also included pianist Brad Mehldau, saxophonist Mark Turner, and fellow 6-stringer Peter Bernstein. At the time, Smalls was the place to catch the next wave of fiery young improvisers, and East Coast captures Rosenwinkel using a clear, reverb-laden tone that matches perfectly when his gentle falsetto peeks through.
In a way, the album mirrors Angels, yet offers a controlled view of how Rosenwinkel’s playing and composing has matured over the last quarter-century. The crispness of his melodic ideas is there, but the musicality behind them has become more meaningful, which can be attributed to his constant stream of recordings. His tone has lost a bit of attack, by design, but still feels as forceful and direct as it did that night at Smalls.
The idea of doing a live-in-the-studio trio album was interesting not only for musical reasons, but logistical ones, too. “It was easy to do, because you just get in the room and play for a couple of days,” says Rosenwinkel. “Plus, I have ongoing projects that are much more involved.”
Over his shoulder, on the Zoom screen, sits an upright piano, which is demanding his attention for a forthcoming piano-based album. On his music stand sits a chart for “All Is Well,” a recently released track that shows off his more rock-pop side in an obvious nod to his melting pot of influences.
The sound of Rosenwinkel’s guitar, at its core, is full, dark, and pillow-like. His lines flow like water and the trio setting offers space that allows him to explore every inch of the compositions. Both Hutchinson and Deidda push and pull the tunes in new and interesting ways. Check out the syncopated funk-like groove on Monk’s “Ugly Beauty,” for example. Not to mention the bluesy, soulful original, “Simple #2.” And read on for a breakdown of Angels Around, and to learn about his passion for digital guitar technology and his return to fronting a rock group.
At what point did you feel drawn to play as a trio for this album?
After I released Caipi [in 2017], I wanted to get back to more of the common ground of what I do. Plus, the trio really came together in the past few years. I was very happy with the chemistry of the group and everything was clicking. And I love playing with those cats. We had been playing a lot, so it made sense to record. I’m really happy with how it came out.
Have you become more productive recently or is balancing several projects at once typical for you?
Apart from the worry and the financial and health concerns, it’s actually quite nice to have a time-out from the craziness of my life as it normally is and just have unbroken time at home. If you had asked me what my biggest wish was, it would be to just have three months of unbroken time at home. So, this is almost like a dream come true—in the sense that there’s so much that I don’t get to because I’m away. Plus, I’m lucky that I have a studio.
It’s always interesting to hear the stories behind what tunes you choose to record. Did cutting [saxophonist] Joe Henderson’s “Punjab” bring back any memories of playing with him?
I love Joe Henderson’s music and having had the opportunity to play with him was just one of the biggest opportunities that I’ve ever had. I really cherish those memories. I loved those tunes before I got to play with him, and it was incredible to come into the first rehearsal and have him call “Punjab” and “Serenity,” and “Caribbean Fire Dance.” It’s an interesting song with its own arrangement and a lot of nooks and crannies in the composition that make for really interesting interplay with the trio.
What liberties do you feel like you’re able to take with a tune like that when you bring it to the trio?
The more I have a handle on what it is harmonically and structurally, the more I can play it true to itself and the more I feel like I’m not limited. My process is to try to get as deeply into what it is and live there so completely that I just feel so happy to be there finding my own melodies and being able to express my own feelings and instincts within that form.
TIDBIT: All of Angels Around was recorded and mixed in Rosenwinkel’s home studio in Berlin. “It was easy to do, because you just get in the room and play for a couple of days,” says Rosenwinkel.
Do you have a mental checklist that you go down when you’re learning a tune, or is it as simple as playing it repeatedly?
Mostly sitting around and playing it over and over again. Playing it so much that you kind of forget that you’re playing it and you just find all of these places within it. You start discovering things that are unique to the song. I can take one song and play it for three hours, and then connections are made. Then you begin to discover your own relationship with the song and discover your language within the song. I just love these songs. I love to play them, and the more I play them, the more I find other ways to play them. I really enjoy the music of it.
Paul Chambers didn’t write too many tunes. How did you discover “Ease It?”
I discovered it on his album called Go. [Drummer] Jorge Rossy gave me a cassette tape of it when I moved to Barcelona in 1993. I spent about six months living in Barcelona, and I was originally staying at Jorge’s grandmother’s house. I just loved that album. It’s amazing how much great music was recorded and there’s so much to discover even if you’ve discovered so much already.
I hear a lot of Monk in your playing. Do you think he was more of an influence on you as a composer, or as an improviser?
I would say both, because there’s so much composition in his improvising. There’s so much architecture. I love that aspect of music—just the way things are constructed and the concept of economy and that everything has a purpose and there’s nothing that’s superfluous. Even in my style, which I’m developing, that has a lot of notes and contains a lot of information, my goal is still economy and clarity of an idea. I don’t want to waste any note as well.
Listening to Monk is always an inspiration in that regard. His compositions are just so beautiful and the voice leading of his tunes is so inspiring because it’s so tight, in that everything makes so much sense. But at the same time, it’s so interpretable, and because it’s interlocking you can find many, many different ways that it can interlock with other approaches, like substitutions and other pathways that he provides by making the structure so functional.