Interview with Tenor Saxophonist Ellery Eskelin

Ellery Eskelin creates with a vintage Conn

New York tenor saxophonist and composer Ellery Eskelin was gracious enough to consent to an interview on Crazy Bent Brass Tube this week. Ellery is a consistently interesting improviser and he recently celebrated 30 years in New York doing what he loves. He is a prolific and creative recording artist as well as the author of the intelligent blog Musings from a Saxophonist. My questions are in bold (RA) and Ellery's answers follow (EE); I did not edit any of his responses.

Interview with Ellery Eskelin, April 7, 2013

RA: When did you make the conscious decision to follow music as a career regardless of the economic consequences? And creative improvised music to boot? Didn’t your parents want you to be a dentist or an accountant? 

EE: I've wanted to be a jazz musician since I was ten years old. That desire overrode everything else. My parents were very supportive of me being a musician although they did have concerns about the type of music I played. 

RA: How have you managed to stay fresh and creative for 30+ years? Most of the so-called “young lions” have never progressed and are stuck in a rut in middle age – downright boring to listen to. 

EE: The process is exactly the same as it was the first day I got the horn. Still trying to figure out what I can do on it. I'm not too concerned with style or idiom. There's too much music that pulls on me. Plus, the old masters set the bar so high that I'm constantly inspired to push myself every day.

RA: What is your creative “well” – where do you pull inspiration from day after day?

EE: I love what I do. And it’s the way I express myself in the world. Plus, there's so much to do and such a limited time to accomplish it in. 

RA: Do you have a specific approach or “strategy” in mind when you begin a solo? If so, can you give some insight? 

EE: Whenever I'm improvising I think about what the music needs and try and do that. It requires an immediate, in the moment, non verbal state of mind, so that usually necessitates a feeling of movement, a gesture or a sense of phrasing just as I'm about to play. Once I have an idea of a musical shape the notes come to me at the very last moment, as I'm playing. 

RA: How have you avoided recording “Ellery Eskelin with Strings”? (or have you and I am unaware?) 

EE: See "Vanishing Point" (hatOLOGY 577) recorded in 2000 with Mat Maneri: viola, Erik Friedlander: cello, Mark Dresser: bass, Matt Moran: vibraphone. Completely improvised music. I'm rather proud if it. 

RA: Have you ever been forced to play weddings and bar mitzvahs or teach 8-year-olds to stay in music? 

EE: I played weddings when I was coming up. At a certain point, the singers could no longer follow my solos without getting lost so I sold my tuxedo and got a day job (shipping clerk at a record label) until my touring picked up enough that I could let that go as well. 

I've not yet taught a young person but I think I would enjoy the opportunity to approach things a bit differently, more direct ear learning and an introduction to basic I IV V harmony and improvising as soon as they could get around the horn a little. 

RA: Your most ridiculous day gig? 

EE: Well, I was a weekend janitor in a shopping mall for a little while during my school years. I like to think of that as good honest work. Worked on a commercial roofing crew for a summer. All the guys would keep telling me, "stay in school if you don't want to wind up doing this for a living"! 

RA: How do you deal with the egos in the music business without it getting under your skin? Seems like a large proportion of talented musicians are not nice people. 

EE: Actually I don't find that to be the case. The large proportion of the musicians I've met in my life have been pretty down to earth. 

RA: Do you feel you are missing out on anything in life because you pursued creative music as your profession? What about your family – have they missed out on something? 

EE: No, but when I realized that the president was younger than me it did get me thinking. But ironically there is something about going deeply into a subject that teaches us about the world and deepens our appreciation of other people and their work. As for family, I am blessed that they understand and support what I do. I hope that my values and actions can point to some other ways of looking at things in general. 

RA: It appears that you have to be a virtuoso to play any of today’s jazz styles. This kills the music as a people’s music because it limits participation in the creative process. How can the music survive and progress without becoming another form of classical music dependent on the conservatory? 

EE: I don't agree that being a virtuoso limits the audience's participation. If anything a certain kind of demonstrable virtuosity is something that audiences often grab onto even if it's not always deeply artistic. But jazz has never been a popular music with the public at large. In my experience the best thing for any musician to do is commit 100% to their vision and play with the commensurate conviction required to evoke some kind of emotional feeling in the listener. And besides, virtuosity comes in many forms. I consider Ben Webster to be a virtuoso in his sublime delivery of ballads. 

RA: I have a talented 16-year-old who plays tenor. But music is not her only talent/interest. Any suggestions on how she can stay engaged as a performer? Most young people quit playing after school. 

EE: Not sure how to answer that question. But in as much as music is a social event (playing with other people and playing for other people) I would imagine that maintaining that social connection would be beneficial. 

RA: Do you have some recommended learning resources for those not interested in pattern playing or paid-by-the-note tenor styles? 

EE: The idea of "learning resources" in itself seems to imply some kind of organizational methodology that often runs counter to want you're speaking about (which to me has more to do with the nuances of one's delivery). I recommend modeling one's playing after vocalists as a way of avoiding calisthenics and the playing of too many notes. Concentrate on phrasing and the active use of silence. Personally I don't like to think so much in terms of "lines" as much as I want to think in terms of melody. Having a strong sense of what you're doing with (or against) the rhythm also helps. 

RA: Thank you, Ellery.

Here are links to Ellery's web site, blog, and Facebook and YouTube pages:

web site
blog
facebook
youtube

Ellery Eskelin - New CD Release Announcement Trio New York II

Just received this in my email from Ellery Eskelin and thought I would take the opportunity to promote a really fine saxophonist.

TRIO NEW YORK II is NOW Available... Listen to samples on the website... See the promotional video on YouTube… Order on-line using Pay Pal for Immediate Delivery Worldwide...

Please visit the website and click the TRIO NEW YORK link for complete information and track samples. 

Have a look at the TRIO NEW YORK II video on Youtube. 

To ORDER NOW simply visit the Mail Order page. You’ll have the CD in no time!

ELLERY ESKELIN - TRIO NEW YORK II

prime source CD 7010

Ellery Eskelin - tenor saxophone

Gary Versace - Hammond B3 organ

Gerald Cleaver - drums

The New Yorker magazine recently referred to me as a saxophonist “with a romantic streak that runs parallel to his experimental leanings”. I like that. Romance is a descriptor that is rarely associated with the improv scene in New York City. And for the past couple of decades that is what I’ve been doing mostly. I’ve always thought of “Trio New York” as a free improvisation unit, in some ways a continuation of the type of work I’ve been doing all along, in other ways a distinct break from many of the concepts I’d been working with previously. For those of you familiar with our first recording, you'll know that we use the Great American Songbook as our source material.

“Trio New York II” is the second recording by this group and represents an evolution, the band having fine tuned it’s musical processes from gig to gig though our touring in Europe as well as performances in Canada and the US, most recently being the Detroit Jazz Festival. I’m very proud to be working with two of the great musicians of our time, organist Gary Versace (who knows his way around a Hammond organ and knows how to be creative with it) and Gerald Cleaver (who is both swinging and free, always with impressive dynamic sensitivity). This new release also coincides with the fact that as of this month I’ve been living in New York City for thirty years. A lot has happened during that time and I feel as though I’m finally in a place where I can truly integrate all my experiences into the music, from the early days up until today.

As for this recording, please know that it’s very important to me to take the extra time and expense to document this work and present it to you as a physical entity with the highest standards of artistic and technical quality possible. This documentation is not only central to my progress as an artist but I feel it is doubly important that as we are asking for your time and attention you should understand that you are getting a state of the art recording for your collection that you can value for many years to come. Trio New York II is released on my own “prime source” label.

Thank You,

Ellery Eskelin

Blues Jam at Little Penang Street Market

Let 2013 begin with some YouTube videos from the last weekend of 2012. Jackie and I were asked at the last minute to perform at the Little Penang Street Market on Sunday. The LPSM is always a fun venue because the organizers let the musicians call the shots: we are able to put together our own sets and play whatever we want. No call for Lionel Richie covers or Frank Sinatra tunes to please the audience. The LPSM has evolved into one of the last remaining jam sessions on the island, particularly for jazz and blues fans, since the long-running G Spot jazz jam died over a year ago.

I phoned blues harpist Kim Gooi to join us, but our hopes to pick up the Penang Blues Brothers at short notice were dashed when we discovered that keyboardist James Lochhead was not feeling well and guitarist Sid was in KL for the holidays. Jackie and I were resolved to playing a not-too-fun duet set over Band-In-A-Box. We managed to convince one of the actors from the UK's Click Theatre Company, Richard, in town to play the role of The Major in Fawlty Towers, to sit in on piano for a few tunes.

Then things got interesting. I was told that there was another keyboardist in the crowd, which was larger than normal due to the number of tourists in Penang for the holidays. I asked him to join us and he modestly said he did not think he was up to standard. Ha ha. Fortunately I was able to convince "T" to come up on stage and sit in with me, Jackie, and Kim. The next hour caught fire. We warmed up on Chitlins Con Carne and Night Train, but then T just started jamming in Bb and things took off. T has a great rhythmic sense and we didn't miss the bassist and drummer after that.

I've posted four videos from December 30 on YouTube. First up is a slow gospel blues I've dubbed "Testifying with T" in honor of our mystery guest. I preach an improvised Sunday morning sermon over T's chords, then Kim and Jackie bear witness and Jackie and I harmonize in the choir before we all take it out.

Next up is The Doors' Roadhouse Blues, which I first played with Hans and the Hillbillies at Ziggy's Bar on the beach in St. Kitts. From the sacred to the profane, Roadhouse Blues is one of the all-time classic bar-band rockers. Then, back to tradition with Blue Monk and, finally, Blue Train as our New Years' wish.

As Blue Train closed, T got up from the keys and disappeared back into the crowd. Our time ran out too quickly, like 5 minutes rather than an hour. It has been quite a while since I've been in a pure pick-up band situation that I liked this much. You can see the smile on T's face in the videos. He definitely has the right attitude towards music and it was infectious. The crowd enjoyed listening to our set as much as we enjoyed playing the music, an all-around win-win. Like William Parker told me a couple of months ago, creating positive energy helps keep the world on its axis.

Joe Morris, William Parker and Marco Eneidi in Washington DC

The Joe Morris Trio at Bohemian Caverns: William Parker (b), Marco Eneidi (as), Joe Morris (g)

I flew into Washington DC from Lagos yesterday. Arrived early in the morning and the hotel didn't have any rooms ready. People were hanging out in the tiny lobby when I returned in the afternoon to check in. One man sitting on the sofa looked strangely familiar, like I knew him from somewhere before, but I couldn't quite place the face.

Coming down in the elevator I noticed that the guy standing next to me was holding an alto case so I struck up some small-talk conversation, you know...are you a musician, what kind of music do you like to play, what kind of horn do you play? He was Marco Eneidi, Viennese alto saxophonist with whom I was not previously familiar but who has played with the likes of Cecil Taylor, in town for a one-night stand at Bohemian Caverns. Marco said he was there with a trio, a guitar player and a bassist. So he proceeded to introduce me to the man sitting on the couch. "This is my bass player." I shook his hand and asked his name. "William Parker" was the reply.

William Parker and Marco Eneidi

My jaw dropped. William Parker? One of the best bass players on the planet, icon of creative free improvisation, and prolific recording artist who has been on my playlist for years? Then up walked the guitar player...Joe Morris, ostensible leader of the trio at Bohemian Caverns, who I knew from his recordings with great saxophonists like Ken Vandermark and Anthony Braxton...not your garden variety rhythm section by any means. Maybe one of the finest free jazz collaborations playing today. 

Joe Morris

We chatted for a while. William talked about how musicians create positive energy and help keep the world from imploding.

I went to 11th and U at 7:00 pm to hear the trio's gig. Two hours of sublime, cerebral free improvisation for an attentive but small audience, well less than a hundred, in a funky basement. The two one-hour sets passed like ten minutes. It was great for me to hear such high-level free improvisation after so long. I must thank Joe Morris, William Parker, and Marco Eneidi for not only staying dedicated to the cause but also making a success of it. Joe said that he is just a regular human being and that he has worked hard to be able to speak through his instrument. He told me that we should continue our conversation on line - too bad I don't do Facebook. 

You never know what is going to happen when you wake up in the morning; I certainly never expected to run into William Parker and hear such superb music when I got out of bed yesterday. One of the good surprises life holds.

Tribute to Von Freeman

I wrote this "note to self" after a conversation with tenor sax master Von Freeman at Andy’s, 11 E. Hubbard St., Chicago, on Sunday morning, August 12, 2007, from 1:30 – 2:30 AM. It is an apt tribute to the recently departed soul and one of my favorite pieces.

Setup: Von played a Selmer Mark VII tenor (complete with rubber bands) with an Otto Link 9 mouthpiece and Vandoren V16 #4 reeds, in a flight case. No stand; he put his horn under the piano during breaks.

Von played 3 Saturday night sets at Andy’s with his quintet, the (white) piano-bass-drums rhythm section including 25 year old Philly pianist Ben Paterson along with vocalist Bettye Reynolds. Very short breaks – these guys like to play. I had an interesting conversation with Ben during the break when he accidentally picked up and drank my drink – ended up buying me a Macallans and stayed and talked for a while. Ben is making it as a jazz pianist in Chicago and has an organ trio playing at Andy’s on Monday. Says he has avoided making a living playing weddings so far, lucky him. He said that playing with Von is great, Von really listens to him, and Von will be playing something totally modern and outside one minute and then a lick straight from 1942 the next. 

Von was playing Lester Leaps In when I arrived about 10:15. The highlight of the second set was Jumpin’ with Symphony Sid (which I was playing earlier in the day at PM Woodwinds in Evanston when I was trying out horns earlier in the day – I call my version Jumpin’ with Uncle Sid). I really felt like Von was channelling Pres. I had been reading about Pres in a book called But Beautiful in a bookstore that morning. The third set started with a long (~15 minute) rap followed by Robbin’s Nest. He concluded with April in Paris. Von likes playing long acapella obbligati. He had a good rapport going with Ben and was guiding Ben verbally as he comped and soloed. His playing was absolutely effortless. His edgy, acid tone is instantly recognizable. 

After the 3rd set ended I had a long and fascinating conversation with Von (“Vonski” as he likes to be called; he called me “Ronski”). Von is nearing 85 years of age, and as Ben said as we left the place at 2:30, he is maybe one of a dozen people remaining on the planet who have shared the experience of Pres, Bird, Dexter, etc. Roy Haynes is another. Von is white haired and walks a bit slowly, but his wits are totally about him. 

Von was extremely kind and engaging, not the least bit standoffish and arrogant. I mentioned that my Dad had just passed and Von started talking about how he was at the end of his time. He talked about his life and how when he was younger he was involved with gangs, drank heavily, etc., but luckily changed his ways and survived. He said at one time he felt a lot of self pity about not “making it” and I told him he has made it and is considered one of the living masters, how he is recognized all around the world, and how one writer even called him the greatest living tenor player (even better than Rollins!). He was flattered by this and didn’t seem to know. He is very Chicago-centered. He said that luckily he has had good health whereas Sonny has had some health problems. 

I mentioned that I felt he was channeling Lester and he said he had met Lester Young, and Lester was a very kind man. He said that Lester told a story, that playing that style was very difficult as most horn players followed Hawk and just played a lot of notes. He pointed to the keys of his horn and said the saxophone is built to play a lot of notes. Lester got beyond that. Von mentioned that Stan Getz, probably the best known direct Pres disciple, used to come and hear him play. 

I mentioned that I had the chance to hear and meet Dexter Gordon in the Village about 25 years ago and that Dexter was a real gentleman and I would remember him fondly forever, in the same way I would remember my conversation with Von. Von loved Dexter. He reminisced about a recording session he once did with Dexter on Joe Siegel’s label, with Jodie Christian, Red Rodney and Roy Haynes. Siegel told everyone to keep their solos short so Von as the first soloist did 4 choruses on a blues and then sat down. After the piano player, Dexter cut loose and played for about half an hour. Dexter told Von not to listen to the producer, just to play what he felt. Von said he listened to his four choruses later and couldn’t believe how well he played, said it didn’t sound like himself. It was someone else (God) playing. 

When he mentioned Bird he said that it wasn’t Bird playing the horn. Said that Bird had a really bad drug problem, and all the women loved Bird. 

Von said that music is not mathematics (i.e., you can’t play just by memorizing intervals and patterns), that it is something spiritual and from the soul. I said that was a function of the high level he played at – maybe much less skilled musicians have to play by the numbers. He agreed and laughed. He referred to his 3rd set rap about not letting the devil get between you and the sound. He said that he doesn’t practice any more – he doesn’t need to, his embouchure is like a rock after all these years and he used to play an 11 mouthpiece – but he used to practice 25 hours a day when younger. Music to him is way beyond conscious thought. Ben seconded this in a separate conversation. 

At the end of our conversation, as I was saying farewell, Von grabbed my hands, rubbed them, and held my hands in his for a long time. He said he was passing the gift on to me.

My Musical Biography, Part 6 (Conclusion for Now)

I am never satisfied with my own music – I know every mistake I make – but I also know that you are not taking creative chances if you don’t make some mistakes. The literature about high performance and innovation in every field, not just music, agrees that you have to take chances to advance and that mistakes are part of the learning process. However, street reality is that mistakes are usually penalized. 50 years after Ornette, the thing about 'wrong notes' is still going around...like Monk said as he stared at the piano keyboard, "Show me which note is wrong."

I read a lot about music and get a kick out of academic critics who earn their living by making brilliant statements like “Dexter came in a beat too soon on this phrase” or “Bud played a clashing note while comping in measure 4” or “Sonny hit a clam”. Ha ha, you dimwit. You get behind the horn at 200mph and do something you have never done before, in company of players as good as or better than you who are also creating in the moment. All that said I can’t hardly stand listening to my own playing once I finish mastering the recordings (that’s one thing I have in common with Sonny anyhow). I love playing with other horn players who are better than me. I tend to favor blues and riff tunes and minor scales and disfavor Tin Pan Alley standards (which I never listened to the original of in the first place), although if Pres or Dexter played it, it can’t be all bad. I try to expand my repertoire continually and always introduce new tunes on gigs. My recent repertoire comes from Sam Rivers, Horace Silver, Trane, Rahsaan, Sonny, Monk of course, Cleanhead Vinson, Eddie Harris, Mingus, Cannonball…

Bless the guys who are keeping the music alive. I know you are starving.

My Musical Biography, Part 5

I’ve been fortunate enough to travel the world while still young enough to appreciate it, and since Kazakhstan I travel with a tenor over my shoulder. I acquired a small form-fitting hard shell case to make airline travel less of a hassle. Work led me to Azerbaijan in 2007, where the driver picked me up one night and delivered me to Baku’s basement jazz club. When the band hit ‘Round Midnight I felt compelled to get over my trepidation, so I got up on the stand and jammed – my first public performance since who remembers when. I got an “ochin harasho” from the drummer…

Steve Black

Dare and George

The next year found me in Fela-land and my very first week in Nigeria I met some local musicians which led to several gigs per week for the rest of the year in bar bands, jazz bands, and highlife bands. What an amazing musical experience. The years of listening to Fela had gotten into my blood – I had been turned on to Fela by Kwame Olatunji in college – and I could play the music intuitively. The Nigerian musicians and fans treated me great – almost reverse discrimination – calling me white brother and asking me how I learned to play like an African. I played with guys whose instruments were held together with tape and rubber bands, real pieces of junk that didn’t stop great music from coming out. The same lesson Charlie Parker taught Phil Woods, I guess. Guys who hadn’t eaten a decent meal in days. I played mostly with bandleader and alto saxophonist Dare Peter and had some fantastic musicians for colleagues like the polyrhythmic drummer George, guitarist King Faj (the Nigerian Hendrix), scat-and-James Brown singer Steve Black, and tenor saxophonist Jonny who taught me highlife licks by ear as I stood next to him on the outdoor bandstand at the legendary Blake. One night one of Fela’s former music directors sat in with us. I actually got asked back for more. 50-year-old basically self-taught white man. There are some videos up on YouTube which I will post later.

Jonny

I’ve subsequently played in Colombo with a straight-ahead jazz quartet (I made it a quintet), had a bi-weekly gig in the Caribbean with Hans and the Hillbillies acting as horn section for a Waylon Jennings and Johnny Cash-inspired country rock band (Hans does a killer version of Folsom Prison Blues), in Holland, and even had a few gigs in musically-barren Abu Dhabi at a high-end cigar club. Recently I’ve been in Malaysia and fortunately our multi-talented and good-at-everything daughter Jackie has decided to play alto sax (she already has a killer singing voice, a quick ear, and way more musical talent than I ever had) so we’ve been going out on gigs together. I am getting back at the musical Thatcherites by performing Trane, Miles, Jug, Sonny, Rahsaan, Duke, etc. with her when she's at an age when I hadn't even heard of these guys. It rubs off; she can recognize Dexter on the stereo. We record everything we do in both audio and video. I’m trying to teach her to feel the music, to truly improvise and never play the same thing twice (do you ever feel exactly the same way twice?), to hear the solo inside her head, and to get in the spirit of the music when playing. Oh yeah, and to play long tones.

Motivated to Play...by the Music

My personal preferences in music have been formed around the tradition of creative improvised music that is never played the same way twice. I love a good rhythm and a great horn solo and the spontaneous interplay of multiple improvisers. 

Most of my great experiences playing music came after the age of 50. Past the age when Pres and Jug had already left us. An age when cave men would have been long dead, and past a man’s life expectancy in many of the world’s poorest countries today. I never seriously considered playing music professionally full-time since most all the world’s improvising musicians are near destitute – see the heart wrenching video about Kalaparusha 'That's not a horn, it's a starvation box' that appeared on the Guardian web site in 2010 to prove it. Lester Bowie once said that at the height of The Art Ensemble’s worldwide fame, he earned less than his mailman. The great Sam Rivers – whose playing was too advanced for Miles in the 60’s – admitted that he only had two years of steady work in his whole life, and that was when he played in Dizzy’s band in the 80’s (Dizzy, as essential as he is, had more or less stopped innovating by the late 1940’s whereas Sam never stopped). 

As much as I love music, I never had the stomach to teach 8-year-olds forced to take lessons by their dragon mothers who dream of their child on stage at Carnegie Hall, like some of my bandstand compatriots must do to earn a living. Live gigs are few these days when anyone can twiddle up instant entertainment on their hand phone, and good gigs where the creative improvising musician can have full artistic control are even fewer. But those are the gigs we focus on and yes they do exist. I am playing for the creative outlet the music provides, the feeling of flow that can only be achieved through fully-engaged high-performance endeavours (such as race car driving or equestrian sports), to be in the rare mental space created by guys like Sonny, Pres, Mex, Rahsaan, Booker Ervin, Fred Anderson and others sung and unsung, to be behind a bent piece of brass that is one of the most genius inventions of mankind, to be where nobody can get between me and what comes out the other end of the tube, and to preserve and proliferate the tradition of creative improvisation with utter truth and honesty. Maybe even contribute something however small. Oh yes, and for the joy of music. Music needs to be fun; it is not meant to be a painful, complicated, academic experience.

State of the Horn, One Player's View

Playing sax is a never ending learning process. Most of the players I like are way older than me – the recently passed Sam Rivers was close to 90, Fred Anderson was in his late 70’s when he left, Ornette and Sonny are now 80, Vonski is about 88 now and still going.

Since my school days the music in many ways has transformed from a vibrant, free, expressive art form to a stodgy, academic, ossified craft you learn in class by studying method books based on John Coltrane’s 1959 approach, an approach he himself rapidly advanced away from. So-called jazz can now be “graded” and there are “jazz competitions” with monetary prizes awarded. I've never understood how an art form founded in self expression could be treated as a competition like weight lifting or horse racing.

Ornette is back to being considered radical again more than 50 years after he established the mainstream. Learning jazz is now mostly “take a random mathematical pattern like 1-3-6-5, memorize it in every key, then play it as fast as you can”. Harmonic complexity is treated as the only value worth striving for; formulaically twiddling up and down chords at high speed is what makes you a good horn player. The more complicated the better. Memorizing solos, other people’s solos, is mandatory (but only those that slavishly follow chord changes, the kind of music the pioneers abandoned in the late 50’s, mainly because formulas can be replicated but creativity cannot). The conventional wisdom after 30 years of musical Reaganomics is that music is like speech – you imitate your mother to learn to speak, so you must imitate other musicians to play jazz. An inaccurate analogy – I learned to speak from my mother but my voice sounds nothing like hers, I never needed to ape her voice pitch, emphasis, and inflection to speak, and I never had to copy her exact words, grammar, and syntax to be understood. There is still a pocket of creativity in the music today but it is small and the giants are leaving us one by one. Much of what I hear labelled “jazz” is corporate pap and the word is close to becoming meaningless since many uncritical listeners confuse lounge music that incorporates a bit of syncopation and a blue note or two with the creative storm that stems from the tradition of Pops, Pres, Bird, Miles, Trane, and Ornette. Where I live it is difficult to hear a horn at all.