Honesty and Grace

In thinking about all the things I am going to reference in this post, I could cry right now.

I haven’t posted here since December 2023, and here’s why: the last 15 months have been unbelievable, transformative, triumphant, sorrowful, disastrous, hopeful, and filled with a new peace.

Through a series of unbelievable, unpredictable events, I have realized a cycle that started a long time ago, to become the best version of myself I have ever been. I have a theory about why people self-sabotage, why I think they punish themselves for the pain they feel inside. For reasons only God could explain, I have stopped doing that. I am able to do things with clarity and consistency that I have not done since I was 12 or 13 years old. I can honestly say this is the best I have felt in 20 years. My mind and my process have not been this consistent in two decades. I wish I could say I planned it this way, but…..nope! Not at all. Some people will tell you they see it but few would look closely enough. Believe me, it happened.

I suspect I will take a new step tomorrow. After that, I will eventually announce something else. No timetable, but there are some interesting irons in the fire. The drawing board has a sketch or two. Sometimes, when one thing starts moving, it allows you to see how the other things could move to augment the thing. A hands off chain reaction. Again, not my plan.

How do I feel about all of this? That’s what I came here to tell you.

Couple things:

1. I have to, have to, have to, have to say goodbye to Andrew Klein one more time. We became great friends in September 2020, almost immediately. He passed away in August 2024. I spent three of the last four years of his life with him almost every day. I don’t feel a need to revisit what happened. I just miss him. He had so much to give, so much energy and flavor and understanding. He was a very bright light, even if the room was already bright. His presence was so large, you could feel it from two towns over. Our bond was true. I gave, because I am a giver, and he exuded. I can feel his warmth, and I hear his gigantic laugh now. What an esoteric nut, but he was my esoteric nut. Much as I try to forget, he gave me something only he could give. I am grateful.

2. On the home page, you’ll see a few tributes to Karim Rome. We’ll keep doing that. He shined in a unique way also. Heart of gold, mind from another planet. Surely someone that good, that creative, that loving couldn’t be human. He was too good for this world. Your energy is what we all need.

3. happiness is truth unburdened. we face many burdens that come with truth. when we accept that those burdens were not our failure or our faulty design, then we can live in the truth with love and experience joy

4. Every lesson is part of the great drum circle in the sky. I can’t hear all the parts, but I can pick up a note or two here and there. This is an incomprehensible story; we are actors who know our lines, but our subconscious reads them to us.

5. The past can be kept and cherished, but you can’t let it weigh you down. It can’t be your present or your future. You can take some chapters with you, but it’s generally not a good idea to make it your life again. There is no nobility in suffering for the sake of better, nor resistance for the sake of aspiration. Pain doesn’t make you stronger, it makes you weakened enough to recover until you can find your strength again. No reason to welcome it if you know it will probably find you at some point. It won’t help you, it will only wear you down.

6. I give (myself) grace, I get grace (from others)

I give (myself) patience, I get patience (from others)

We can’t, don’t and won’t understand everything. That’s why we should give grace. I know that I tried to understand what was in your heart in a given moment. It’s possible I didn’t understand the moment, and that’s okay. The grace I give now is available to the person you are now and the person you become who will want it. Because it allows you to be whoever you are now and in the future, it is a gift that keeps on trying to be given until it is gifted. We give it to ourselves and others at the same time; that is why it heals.

7. Practice life as much as you practice music. No one ever said it to me that way (until recently!), but I wish they did. For us, being deficient in one hurts the other. Balance them! You need both!

8. 12 years ago, I reached my highest career peak. Since then, I have been trying to figure out everything else. I had no idea what I needed at that point. Nothing about these years has been empty. If I were still the same person, I would feel empty and unwanted; instead, I feel secure and balanced. There is no mistake to review, no road untraveled, no thought or moment I missed.

There was a reason for everything that happened and everything I did because - let me be very clear here - BECAUSE I did not go against what I believed to be the growth and purpose I sought. None of this was random, even when I suffered. Even when I failed, I tried to see it for what it could be. I did not try anything or everything in the hopes of finding something, I tried something in the hopes of finding balance. In other words, I feel the reasons for what has happened because I feel like I was always following the path, so it was impossible for me to be lost. If you don’t feel like you’re following a path, it would be difficult for you to figure out where and what to trace. What would the connections be if you can’t make them? Your subconscious would have to leave bread crumbs and trace it, but it can’t if it was lost, too. It can only be traced based on where you were, and it could be even more clear if you had a direction in the moment. You get what I’m saying?

9. For almost my entire life, I have sought some understanding about why I feel removed from almost everyone I meet. It is so much deeper than topics or presentation. I feel fundamentally removed, like I’m not even the same species. I have felt this since I was 4 or 5 years old, and it hasn’t stopped. Now, I know why I feel that way, how it works internally, what it does to me and others, but that’s not enough to close the case. As long as I feel like I can keep expanding, keep pushing, keep balancing and absorbing, I will keep finding new purposes. What will I do with all of it? Can I keep doing this for the rest of my life? What will my life become if I keep going? I don’t know. All I know for sure is I can keep doing this. I’m not slowing down at all. I can’t, nor would I want if it were up to me. (it isn’t)

I could never have predicted the last 15 months. I cannot predict the next 15 months. Indeed, every day I brace for the next disaster, the next derailment. The fear is just as palpable as the balance. Every day, I wake up and I am very, very grateful to have freedom, space to grow and dream, and everything I’ve built to this point. I feel blessed and terrified at the same time: constantly afraid of being torn down or shook to my core, and elated to be living a life I was never quite sure would be mine. And that…is balance. That is yin and yang. There are stories that explain God’s love, but I have not been able to understand them in an analytical way. I am stunned, silent, and in awe of the gaps in understanding that only God could explain. I am also very much alive, for some reason I still can’t explain. Explosively alive.

So....if you're on the site already, you won't need a hook

If you’re here, what I’d like to do first is thank you profusely from the bottom of my heart. Somehow, you’ve managed to find me in a sea of musicians, artists, educators, arrangers, composers, and, frankly, operators. I don’t know if you found the person you think I am, or if I’ve represented myself to you accurately, but thank you for being aware of me. I’ll try to make the most of the time you’ve given me.

While I have your eyeballs, I’d like to talk to you about how this whole jazz thing works in 2023.

Over the summer, I posted a series of videos on Instagram (you can find them @tonesforbonesjones, where I regularly blur the line between professional and personal content! I think I found a way to keep those audiences separate, however successfully.) The videos were a reflection of how I got here, to my current station within the “jazz” infrastructure.

(I use quotes around that word, of course, because it isn’t my word, it isn’t my favorite word, and it’s not what I consider myself to be doing. To me, it’s more of an umbrella for quite a few different cohorts, groups, mindsets, contributions, and cultures. To the extent that I am still under that umbrella, I will use it to identify the tradition from which all of this has resulted, but that doesn’t mean the results fit everyone’s idea of “jazz.” Far from it.)

If you’re here, you’re probably musically inclined, and likely a musician yourself, which means you have some sense of what I mean, but let’s assume that the baseline reader isn’t inside of the infrastructure, to the extent that a musician who has lived in New York would be:

Back in 2010, the community was still largely centralized around the people who had thrived during the recording boom of the early to mid 90’s. Through that centralization, venues emerged that communicated, among many other things, the status of midtown Manhattan. Most of the people I know remember that Dizzy’s Club used to be Dizzy’s Club Coca Cola, i.e. this jazz thing was significant enough to Coke that they wanted their name on a venue. Wild, right? Do you think the outside world would have a sense of Coke spending money on naming rights for a jazz club? Most years they’re busy crafting Super Bowl ads. Why the hell would they spend money on a jazz club? (Short answer: there are commercial reasons to get involved in marketing, and then there are other reasons. A company attaches itself to cultural institutions in order to seem humane. You know this. Goldman Sachs is prominently featured outside the elevator when you go to stand on line for Dizzy’s. Go figure.)

The generation that came up immediately after Bird’s passing still had quite a few bandleaders: Sonny Rollins, Roy Haynes, Curtis Fuller, Lou Donaldson, to name a few. But the 90’s cats were unquestionably in charge. They had the biggest role in education, which meant they had the most funding, which meant they had the most money, which meant they lived comfortably. They had full-time jobs, their names were associated with physical music that they could sell rather easily at gigs, and they controlled the cultural and philanthropic infrastructure around black music from top to bottom. If you were an up and coming musician, your choices were to ingratiate yourself with a bandleader, present yourself as an obvious prodigy with the potential to be marketed, or join the herd of musicians for whom there were not even close to enough $50 gigs, or anything resembling artistic or material fulfillment. If you went through the right pipeline at the right time, you could take absolutely advantage of their resources when it was your turn. If not…..welcome to the life.

That was how things worked in 2010. I mentioned that, right?

Now, things are a bit different. Every generation of musicians has seen their share of change within the infrastructure and its ability to provide opportunity.

This change more closely resembles a microcosm of the financial crisis of 2008-09. If you know about this, you know that the catalyst for the collapse was Bill Clinton’s repeal of the Glass-Steagall act, which forbade investment banks from trading with commercial banks’ money. (The Big Short forgot to mention it, but that’s the truth. Merrill Lynch had the right to trade with the $50 you had in Bank of America. Fractional reserve banking, it’s a whole thing and definitely not my department.) Investment banks built these financial instruments around betting that people would pay their mortgages, people did not pay their mortgages, trillions vanished into thin air.

You see it, right? You know where I’m going with this? You see that there was a certain amount of arrogance in the 90’s, which led to a massive upheaval in the late 2000’s once the infrastructure that only worked for those at the top stopped working for anyone? With too much consolidation of an infrastructure, one can knock down the whole tower by removing one block, like a game of Jenga. If that sounds scary, you are indeed following along.

I wish I had better news, or I could say that such a pattern would take quite a bit longer to play out in the music, but something similar happened. As the central figures from the 90’s faded into the background, the social and musical capital they had built faded with them. They can still leave their houses for a paycheck whenever they feel like it, but the leadership they had built around their names didn’t work unless they were public and active, and they just haven’t been since 2015 or so. That would be rough enough, although things didn’t immediately start to deteriorate because of that. No, that started because of this thing you may have heard about called “the pandemic,” when musicians left, clubs closed, and neither made any illusions about returning. Hell, we might’ve been fine if the infrastructure weren’t only as deep or wide as the top. If the foundation served more people, a shock event wouldn’t have changed much for the people who feel this music with every fiber of their being. When enough people feel disregarded, disenchanted, unseen, unheard, unfelt, disrespected, disenfranchised, and unwanted, though, it’s a lot easier for them to just pack up and say, “you know, I don’t need this here, with these people. I think I might just go live my life some other way, where at least I feel appreciated - or I’ll get compensated to feel like this, but this just ain’t it.” Can’t tell you how many great musicians I know have receded into obscurity feeling exactly this way. I didn’t, I swore I never would, but I’d be lying if I said I’d never felt that way. It’s not hard - in fact, it’s easy.

There’s a certain cohort I’ve identified. In larger society, the early millennials, i.e. those born between 1980 and 1994, were the most affected by the 2008 crash, because they hadn’t had the chance to build capital during the better economic years of the 90’s and mid 2000’s, nor had they been drained and numbed by having a microwave computer in their pants for most of their lives. The world hasn’t come up with a name for this block, but it’s out there. You feel it. They’re the end of the 20th century, here to bridge the gap between the old world and the new, but without the equity or influence to help communicate, mediate, translate, or lead. They’ve known that they don’t fit either world particularly well since they came of age, and as such they keep almost exclusively to themselves.

Quick story: not long ago I developed a brotherhood with an individual who was 10 years older than me; his sense of the mainstream zeitgeist almost entirely overlapped with mine. Both of us had retreated to the edges of this world for different reasons, but…that’s definitely not how that usually goes. People with a decade between them are supposed to have noted drastic changes, in line with the massive shifts in the world that were synonymous with the 20th century. That’s all over now. This era is defined by a lack of conclusion or definition. Everything is everything, but never how you imagine it.

Anyway…….

as you might’ve guessed, there is also a class of the music that is disaffected, unaffected, underserved, underutilized, completely unwavering - and maybe a tad unhinged as a result. If someone made them an offer to play music for more than $200, they’d be just as skeptical as if that offer came from Goldman Sachs. They have resigned themselves to make art for their souls whether anyone hears it or not. This is not how it was 15 years ago, but it is now. The early 2000’s cats had the option to toe the line between what labels, venues, booking agents and middlemen wanted, and what they felt most deeply. We do not. To those individuals with whom I share this code, I give you the strongest possible salute. You are artists by default, and I love you for it.

Decisions were made. Reputations were built on those decisions. People did not accidentally end up where they are today. Sure, there have been forces beyond our control, but when haven’t there been? We have all navigated these waters with intent; without an engine, you would still have sails and a steering wheel. Wherever you are, you’ve not been completely misled, misdirected, or lost. Part of this was your doing, however that manifested. You are at least somewhat responsible for where you’ve landed, for better or for worse, because of your intent. The contract you’ve made with the people along your path has determined what you will and won’t tolerate, which has led you to the station you currently occupy. No one is excepted from this.

Real quick: I was under the impression that my feverish dedication to music would overcome not just my technical and instinctive shortcomings, but my inability to play the game as well. I was wrong. Four years of physiological and energetic purgatory set me back, the pandemic stunted everything for everyone, and it’s taken me a few years to plant new seeds. The old seeds weren’t growing into anything I could harvest after not having been watered consistently for seven years. It took me about a year just to get my bearings before the pandemic; by the time everything started opening up again, I just didn’t want to go through that again. That’s what happened to me. It’s neither plain nor simple, but that’s what I got for you. If that’s not enough, I’ll sit down with you and go through it all. (If you stopped caring halfway through, I have no sympathy for your apathy; it just isn’t consequential to me in the slightest.)

So….now, as larger society has replaced actual human interaction with the online public square that takes place primarily on Instagram, so, too, has our community

Let me restate that: the music, which is derived from the combination of cultures that took place as a result of slavery, after a global pandemic in which each and every one of us experienced the loneliness of not being able to see each other and had to result to livestreams and Zoom calls for human synergy, has been reintegrated as a marketable commodity within Instagram and YouTube, instead of cultivating real performance spaces and community in real life. That is where we find ourselves in 2023.

More to be said after I’ve built some things.

checking in

wow! hello there!

a lot’s happened in the last four years, so much that I forgot to write anything here.

Global pandemic wasn’t easy. I’m grateful that so many people were largely unaffected; at the same time, I know how many people were affected & I’m certainly saddened by that, but the impact is hard to gauge. We don't really have reference for something like this, so I think it’s still taking some time for society, economics & culture to adjust. The reset may be a long one but I’ve already seen some evidence to suggest that it’s underway.

As things go, I’m doing really well these days. My performance schedule is a bit less packed than it was four years ago, but I’m more than all right with that. I’ve been on a journey of spiritual and emotional refocusing that has changed everything for me. It informs my music in ways I did anticipate. It’s not that anything has changed musically, but that I have a handle on more aspects of my psyche in the alpha state than ever. It’s a process to go from young & restless to older & jaded, then from older and jaded to seasoned and peaceful, but it’s a necessary one.

Big, big things are in the works but they will take time. Was fortunate to reconnect with some old friends last night at the old (+ new) NYC haunts, something I don’t do much these days. Being grateful and mindful requires an awareness of what is, not what could be, that doesn’t really lend itself to putting one’s self out there. I’ve been blessed with new people who fit my life in amazing new ways, and it has left me wanting for nothing. Still, it’s good to get out, stretch my legs, and play some tunes. I don’t always have a good time doing it but I did last night. (Shout out Jon Elbaz for the alchemy, as usual.)

Some of the new developments have been quite senseless. In particular, I’d like to call attention to the life and music of Karim Rome, who passed last week at the age of 30. Karim and I started at Hartt one year apart from each other. He is a special soul whose love, passion, and creativity were apparent. His tone was naturally like Carter Jefferson’s, edgy and bright but heavy, like a tenor Jackie McLean. I always wanted to know what he was working on, but I wasn’t always around to see it manifested. I assumed we’d do great things together for a long time. It hit me all at once at the funeral, and has now sort of tapered off back into denial. As I said to his father yesterday, “I don’t grieve in a straight line.” Fitting. I don’t live in a straight line either. There’s always some obstacle, some road block that changes my relationship with everything. This wasn’t one of them, but perhaps it informed my gratitude for all of the wonderful people, moments, and blessings in my life. I am beyond grateful. I have reached a sort of complete state of goodness, where everything makes sense & I can add to everyone in my life without issue or imbalance.

Sacrifice is the yin to gratitude’s yang. As I said a few nights ago to an old friend, in the presence of a new friend who it is an honor to know, “I’m an artist. What do I give a f—-?” This is not to suggest some new feeling of apathy, dismissiveness, or egoism, but instead to say that being an artist is freedom, and freedom comes at the price of making sacrifices in order to have clarity. I cannot explain all of the sacrifices I have made to everyone involved, but I can have the clarity that arises from them. The search for clarity is perpetual.

I am better for all of the trials of the last ten years. Soon enough, you’ll see what I have cooking in the lab…..until then, I hope you have a blessed, grateful, joyful day, filled with purpose and love.

life’s good!

it’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood!

I’m really looking forward to hitting with Josh Evans’ Big Band at the Blue Note on Friday. The intensity level is going to be high, as is the level of musicianship. You don’t want to miss it.

I’m also really looking forward to hitting with Asaf Yuria. If you don’t know, Asaf is BAD. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifyKwDoAUQE

The hit in Bushnell Park on July 29th - or, as Matt and I have been calling it for months, “THE gig,” lived up to its billing. Matt, Sarah, Josh, Zaccai, Luques and JB were on fire. If you were there, you know. If you weren’t there, we went in on Inner Glimpse, Starmaker, Sirius System, Happy Times, and The Intrepid Fox. We crossed the street to Black Eyed Sally’s and did it again with the music of Charlie Parker. It was a good day. Nothing but love for my Hartford brothers and sisters.

All in all, I’m playing with cats I really, really respect. Life’s good. I didn’t think it would be this good, this fast, but it is, and I’m loving it. Stop by and say hello!

August 16th - Josh Evans Big Band @ Blue Note, 12:30 AM

August 17th - Asaf Yuria @ Fat Cat, 10 PM

even better than before

I’ve been enjoying New York thoroughly. Whether I’m grooving on Bill Withers’ “Lovely Day” at Smoke on a Saturday, watching Jon Elbaz rip through barriers like swiss cheese at Smalls, or taking in the Mingus Big Band on a Monday, New York has no shortage of blessings, love, and music. It’s all happening, and there’s nowhere I’d rather be.

I’ve been making the rounds to as many sessions as I can find, whether it’s Kelly Green’s trio on Tuesdays and Thursdays at The Wilky, Alex Tremblay’s group at Sort of Wine Bar on Wednesdays, or any night at Smalls. I live for this.

I have some news to share - soon, but not just yet. Things are moving fast. The reception I’ve been getting from the musicians I revere is shocking. Are they sure they have the right guy? Do they know I’m small-time? Do they know that this was only a dream for me, one that I was never quite sure would happen? Apparently, those notions are products of a bygone era. It’s a new story of self for me, and I’m loving every minute of it.

I look forward to sharing some announcements in the coming months. For now, I can say that I’ll be with Allen Lowe’s group at Jazz at Lincoln Center (room TBA) on May 2nd at 7:30. As always, that one will be fun and fearless.

The city that never sleeps. I do, usually between the hours of 5 AM and 12 PM. It took me a long time to be here, but I’m here. Life is good. Hope to see you somewhere.

o3

a little housekeeping:

First off, check the Gigs page for my schedule. I know of some dates I can’t share with you just yet. This is shaping up to be an epic year. 

now: 

there’s a new page above: o3. 

You may have seen the video on Facebook by now. It has been viewed 884 times in two days. I don’t know if that’s a lot, but it looks like a lot!

This concept was born out of two defining moments: first, my time at the Hartt School; second, three years off the horn.

The two people I probably played with the most were Matt Dwonszyk and Corey Garcia. Matt was in the class above me; Corey was three classes below me.  

Matt’s ears and heart are always on display. He has played bass with pretty much everyone who has ever come through Hartford since 2009. His harmonic choices are clear, his beat is huge, and he can adapt to any scenario.  In addition, he’s a great composer and educator, and one of the most sincere and sweet people on Earth. I’m honored to know him.

I met Corey on my way out of town. From the minute I heard him, my ears perked up. He was playing the mess out of the drums when he was 18, and we quickly bonded over the music of Roswell Rudd and Anthony Braxton. In addition, we share an overt goofiness. I can safely say Corey is one of my best friends, and another one of my favorite people anywhere on Earth.

During the three years of vocal cord dysfunction, I was writing, but I couldn’t play any of it. I wanted to hear what this new music sounded like, but I couldn’t even play any of the melodies. I was relegated to imagining how the compositions would sound, and who would play them. 

Not too long before that whole saga began, my senior recital had happened. It was, in a word, baller, and more explosive than I dreamed it would be. I had hoped to continue playing with that crew. Unfortunately, with the delay in my life, I couldn’t keep track of them. Understandably, they have all been very busy in the last five years.

I wanted to recreate some of the moments from that gig.  There’s one part of The Bear, during Andrew Renfroe’s solo, where Renfroe, Dwonz and JB are moving simultaneously, but still together in time. That was probably what I wanted for the whole gig. I realized I could synthesize that sound with only three people, and I wanted to focus on that dynamic.

Of course, with that jarring transition to the edges of society just after school, I changed. I probably mellowed out. I realized that music and life are best when shared with your friends. It was only logical that I would share my music with Matt and Corey, once I believed I was ready.

The original rehearsal was fun. I didn’t send them any of the music ahead of time. I wanted to see how they would react with zero preconceived notions, and zero idea of how I wanted the music to be played. We covered a wide range. We continue to develop a means of communication, but the way we play was already developed as a result of our time in Hartford. They know what I’m going to do, and I have some idea of what they’re going to do. Off the bandstand, we’re open, humorous, and emotionally transparent. It makes sense in pretty much every way. 

We have some upcoming performances to announce. There might be some surprising elements within each announcement. I don’t know. I do solemnly swear that I am up to no good. 

Hope you join us on this exploration. 

Sincerely, 

Brian Simontacchi

so what's next?

I don’t know.

I have a couple theories:

• I continue my winning streak.

• Something unfortunate happens that sets me back, and I am grateful for this winning streak while it lasted.

• Whatever happens next is very different than what I am accustomed to in my life.

• All of the above

What’s my best guess?

That depends on how I see myself.

I’m totally prepared for Door #2. I’ve been there before, and I’ll be there again at some point. My brain is telling me to prepare for whatever is behind Door #2.

I already know that I’ll peek behind Door #3 next year. I know some things that are definitely going to happen, and you might not believe me when I tell you what they are. I’m starting to experience some things my emotional makeup isn’t totally prepared to handle. That’s OK. I’m ready to try some new things.

Door #1 is the one I’m least prepared to acknowledge. I’m not accustomed to a two year winning streak. I can’t say I’ve ever felt good for that long. You hear grit in my playing; the reason is there’s grit in my life. I didn’t make things easy for myself, but everyone didn’t always make things easy for me. On top of that, there were some cosmic occurrences with seemingly no preparation or precedent. That’s life for almost everyone, including me.

It is more of a challenge for me to try new things than it is to stick to the things I know best. Eventually, change comes to the things and people you know best, or your needs change to the point where you no longer want the things and people you know best. That is a new realization. To an extent, everything in my life is new. I drove by the house we lived in for 25 years; it is unrecognizable now. New energy is inside and outside. I had so many new experiences this year - like driving up to Hartford last weekend, completely unprepared, and finding out that I was on a gig with Sarah Hanahan ten minutes before the start of the gig, which, by the way, was spiritual, fierce, and way better than anything else I could have done that night - that I can safely say I’m making it up as I go.

Improvisation, more or less, is the art of recombining the ideas you have in new ways. The future is kind of like that, as well; tomorrow, and every day after that, you will probably repurpose aspects of your life in new ways. You know the ingredients, inside and out, but you don’t necessarily know how the stew will taste different tomorrow. If it tastes the same, you might be OK with that for a little while. Eventually, we all need to feel like life is moving forward, like we’re making progress. If we didn’t, we would be perfectly fine doing nothing for the rest of our lives. We need to be social and active, and we are.

The older I get, the more I ask myself to make life feel new. I don’t want a long stretch of time to feel familiar, or I might think I’m not making progress. A certain amount of familiarity is still a must; if life changes too fast, I will wrestle with the meaning of the changes until I know. Many have asked me to “go with the flow.” As of right now, I can’t, and I probably never will.

For this reason, I don’t know whether 2019 will bring significant change and unfamiliarity, or consistency and predictability. I don’t know which of those ideas sounds better right now. I might not be ready to live my dream, but I’m definitely not ready to know that I’m nowhere close. I lost too much time to accept stagnation, but I also accept my limitations as a person and a musician. Whether I can do what you ask me to do depends on whether you ask. If you don’t ask, I’ll know I need to wait. If you do, I’ll summon my courage and jump in head first. I can promise you that much.

I carry the pain of a three year hiatus from music and life around with me. It’s heavy. Sometimes I need to take a little break for fear that I might be acclimating too quickly. I feel the stress that comes with making every opportunity count. There’s no learning curve; for whatever I’m doing, the time to do it is now, or potentially never.

My heart is all in, or all out. If I’m not all in on something, I should save my energy for something else. That’s my life. That’s my pulse. That’s me.

The good news is that I’m establishing a life that works. I’m not going to sacrifice that for any gig. You can’t put a price on how I feel right now.

Give me this day my daily bread, and I’ll be all right. Grant me some artistic license. Allow me to show you my heart and mind. I’m a little bold sometimes, but it’s easier than ever for me to love myself and you. I feel like my existence is correct, not an aberration of a cosmic formula. One of the greatest gifts is knowing that you are good enough, appreciated, and loved. I acknowledged that this year, and it feels good.

As an artist, I hope I can help you find your heart. It can be difficult to give love all the time. If I show you some love, maybe you’ll pass it around. That would be all right with me.

See you somewhere.

Very truly yours,

Brian Simontacchi

things are looking up

starting to really experience New York. got to spend some time with Corey Wilcox early Wednesday morning. For those of you who don’t know, Corey is a ridiculous trombone musician.

last night, I started my night by checking out Sylvia Cuenca at Smalls. Her quartet was ridiculous. Ralph Bowen floored me with his solo on McCoy Tyner’s “For Tomorrow.” 

stopped by Dizzy’s for Andrew Renfroe’s quartet. Those are my dudes. Renfroe always has an interesting arrangement (or five) to share. 

after that, came back to Smalls for Jovan Alexandre and his quartet. What a band. Tim Angulo was making his first appearance with the band on drums. He was.....well, you’ll see.

after that, played some tunes at the jam session. Johnny O’Neal was very complimentary. that’s a big deal.

the next step is to move close to the city, e.g. Jersey City or something like that, or Brooklyn or Queens. looking for an opportunity to do that.

Eternally grateful for my second chance. On to the next one.....which is Allen Lowe’s Fake Music Ensemble in Hamden, CT, on October 13th at Best Video! 

the sky is not a limit

the last three days were very rewarding.

New Jersey -> Hartford -> Boston -> Hartford -> Boston -> New Jersey

That was 14 hours of driving in three days, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Music is what I do. Playing great music with great musicians, such as those in the Makanda Project, was always the dream. If I have to drive 14 hours to do that, great. This is what I signed up for.

I am back to doing what I love, but where shall I go from here? I don't know.

It's not up to me. It's up to other people. It always has been, and it always will be. Some people find reasons not to like me. Some people like who I am.

I don't know. I'm just a guy who plays the trombone. If my next gig is in a pasture playing for the cows, great. They need music, too.

Ambition was a part of my DNA at one point, but at this point, being able to play again, I'm just happy to be here. I'm happy to play for you. I hope that never changes.

"Let him be, man. Can't somebody smile?"

-Jackie McLean

you have questions

so do i.

i know, almost beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the voice issues and the penny are unrelated.

beyond that, things have changed. my capabilities are probably beyond what they've ever been. honestly, i'm more confused than excited. 

i can't accurately reflect on this. i didn't do the technical exercises necessary to generate a sound like this. i'm not sure what the explanation is. i've wondered whether the speech therapy was a technical exercise that has expanded my ability to produce sound.

i made a record with Allen Lowe with a penny in my horn. i played Dizzy's and Firehouse 12 with a penny lodged in my trombone. i'm not sure how i didn't know that was possible, but it's wild. i think acquitted myself pretty well in those situations, but this development opens up new doors for me.

i didn't think i was really ready to be who i wanted to be before the penny. after the penny, everything is available. i've been asked to play with the Makanda Project on August 11th at First Chuch in Roxbury, MA (Boston area), playing the music of Makanda Ken McIntyre. the band is heavy. this will be an opportunity to sink or swim with these newfound abilities. 

i have no idea what the future holds, other than the fact that you will see more of me. it has been a long week, and i think i need to recover now. i'll post one more track from the Joe Henderson gig (which was stellar, props to all involved), then contemplate my future and my past. with any fortune, i can have the future i have wanted for a long time.

be well, friends!

https://soundcloud.com/brian-simontacchi/mo-joe

a penny for your thoughts

there was a penny in my trombone.

this is crazy. the results......well, this is going to be fun.

stay tuned.

disclaimer: my voice has also improved tremendously since the beginning of 2017. i don't believe the penny and my hiatus were related. that is my official and unofficial position.

all systems go

the instrument doesn’t produce the desired effect without the body being aligned with the mind. that hasn’t been the case lately. I was worrying about the wrong things. everything was upside down for about two weeks, so I took a step back. no Facebook. no trombone. no Smalls. no calls on important topics. totally disconnected. I feel much better already.

I’m still in that process to some extent.  not sure how long this lasts, but I’m enjoying myself. that’s the most important thing.

 https://youtu.be/0FOtyg7lnrE

be well, friends

background music

now that I have your attention....

you may be wondering, “why does he play the trombone like that?” The short answer is that I have to do it this way. The long answer: 

Some people say playing the trombone is hard. I didn’t experience that. It has something to do with my upbringing, I suppose. As a little boy, I used to have to shovel snow until my hands were pretty much frozen. Everything had a purple tint when I came back into the house. We shoveled until dark. When my dad and I would work on a project, it would take all day. Raking leaves: don’t stop until it’s done. B plus: not really good enough. I got used to it, for better or for worse. 

When I got to college, that was my work ethic. In high school, even, I would knock out a four minute transcription, recorded to long term memory, in three or four hours. That’s just me. It’s not better or worse; it just is. 

Four to eight hour practice days were common at the Hartt School. I knew I wasn’t good enough yet, so I practiced until I was.  

Eventually, I started practicing more than just the music of JJ Johnson or Curtis Fuller. McCoy Tyner. Woody Shaw. Freddie, of course. Dexter. Clifford Brown. John Coltrane. Why not? It was there, and I was getting closer and closer to being able to do it. I figured I might as well go for it. 

I didn’t decide to go this route. I just did. I didn’t choose my voice. It didn’t even choose me; it was me. I just put my essence into learning the music I wanted to learn. It figured itself out in my subconscious.

My writing is similarly constructed. Growing up, my brother and I bonded over Led Zeppelin, Victor Wooten, Keller Williams, the Grateful Dead, and Whitney Houston. That all seeped in. At some point, James Brown became a focal point of my concept. He practically invented the hip-hop form all by himself. Funk is hip-hop, as far as I’m concerned. Rhythm precedes harmony, energy precedes rhythm, improvisation is key. That’s what I’m trying to do with instrumental music, in a nutshell. 

You may ask why I’m going in this direction. That’s the wrong question. The question you should be asking is, “how do I realize my life through music?” If you really have no idea how to do that, you might need to put the horn down and live a little. 

This is fun. Onward and upward. 

 -brian

on freddie’s birthday

Freddie Hubbard, of course, is my hero. He is one of my greatest influences.

His time, I believe, was a bit simpler. Step 1: find a band. Step 2: meet the band. Step 3: ingratiate yourself to the band. Step 4: get a chance to play with the band. Step 5: play with the band full-time. Step 6: leave the band and start a solo career. Simple enough - if you can hang.  You’d have food, a roof over your head and a record deal. What more could a person possibly want, I asked with a hint of sarcasm?

Now, the most prolific among us still get record deals, but they are fewer and far between. No longer do we see discoveries in music; instead, you have to be well known already, promoting yourself to the point where your already cultivated image can be sold. I find this counterproductive to the socioeconomic climate for artists, but that’s not my call. 

I harken back to those YouTube clips of Freddie at the Vanguard. He was long established as one of the greatest trumpeters of all time, but it was his musicianship that paved the way for everything afterwards. You wanted Freddie in your club; you needed Freddie in your club. He was so electric that the crowd would go wild after every single tune. It was a no-brainer. He created hype without selling it; he played it into existence. 

Things are harder, now. Press kits (are those still a thing?) Managers. Talent buyers. Pay for your own record. Make your own way so that the industry can invest a little and make a lot of money. Websites (thank God for Squarespace. I got this thing done in a half hour). Spotify. You know what it is. 

If anything keeps me going, it’s the knowledge that if your game is as tight as anyone out there, you will probably go where you want. You will be heard. You will be noticed. You will stand out. I’m no Freddie, but I think I can contribute something different to the scene. I believe I can stand out. That’s up to you. We shall see. 

Happy birthday to Mr. Freddie Hubbard. You live on through us every day. 

the website/#therise

I don’t really feel like getting sappy, but this is a great time for me, especially when you consider where I was four years ago. 

Right before I was about to graduate from college, I began to suffer from vocal cord dysfunction. Basically, my vocal cords opened when they were supposed to close and closed when they were supposed to open. I had chest pains, trouble talking and trouble breathing for at least two years. At least 10 doctors had no cure.  of course, if you can’t take a full breath, trombone is incredibly difficult. It was too painful, physically and emotionally. It affected every facet of my life.

I finally found the right speech therapist in early 2017. Her name is Michele Demarest. She’s terrific. Her company is Morris Speech Therapy. She trained me in recovering my voice and ability to play. Almost every day, I performed the exercises, and I began to see results.

Fast forward a year. I am attending jam sessions in New York. I am playing with Allen Lowe and Elijah Shiffer. I played Dizzy’s in February and Firehouse 12 in March, both with Allen. I might be allowed to post a recording from the Firehouse gig, but I can’t make any promises at this point. It was dope, though; I hope I may. I have two jobs in the sports world. I am re-establishing my friendships. I am having the time of my life. the last step of my recovery is to bring the Vibe Tribe back. I have been writing for four years, and I cannot wait to share this music with you. Literally. I have waited long enough.

I want to welcome you to my brand new website. I hope you like it! This is an exciting time for me. I can’t wait to see as many of you as possible! 

stay tuned for the New York, Connecticut and New Jersey returns of the Tribe. Hope to see you around! 

sincerely and humbly yours,

brian simontacchi