Singer, songwriter and producer Jose James was born in 1978. For the past five years he's been working on a recording project that celebrates the music of that late seventies period, writing songs that echo the vibe of some of the most important work from artists like Marvin Gaye, Leon Ware, Quincy Jones and Michael Jackson. The new record is called simply 1978. I talked to Jose about his new music, how the old music has informed his own musical voice, about being a Girl Dad and more.
Listen to our conversation, above.
Interview transcript:
Pat Prescott: We just spent some time together on the Capitol Jazz Super Cruise, which was really special. I got a chance to meet your daughter and see what a great Girl Dad you are. She's quite a character.
Jose James: She's got a lot of personality. She tells it like it is, and she has a lot of courage, which is cool.
Yes, she does. She made her stage debut actually, on that show where she sang background with you.
She did. She was serious too. She's very focused. I think the next step is to get her to relax a bit when she's in it. Right now, she's telling herself, “I will not make a mistake.” Which, I'd rather it be that way than the other way.
Exactly. I told her, “Just smile because you light up the room when you do.” She's beautiful. My first glimpse of you was in a video that looked like it was recorded in a basement in Brooklyn. I was just mesmerized by your originality. You were doing something completely different. You’re like a musical chameleon where you shape shift from jazz to R and B to hip hop, blues. It's all in there and expressed with an uncommon freedom, which I think is very special.
You defy pigeonholing. After paying tribute to some iconic musicians, you’ve gone back to showing off your own writing and production skills on this new project. 1978 is a very significant year in your life, wasn't it?
Well, my first year when I was born. I think it's a fascinating period in America. It was interesting politically, it was interesting culturally and of course, musically, where I always kind of dive in. I'm just fascinated by that era because there were so many things colliding. Disco was coming to a peak and ending and about to transform into hip hop and all that. In the Bronx, you had incredible funk musicians doing just ridiculous stuff, you had this whole New Wave New York thing. You had this punk movement starting. You had reggae on the global scene with Kaya, and then you had singer songwriters who had been around for a while, like Paul Simon or Billy Joel. They were hitting their stride as well, so to me, it's the fullness of it. Then you had these jazz guys who had been around, like Quincy Jones, people who had been working in a lot of different ways, all of a sudden, working in R&B and in funk and in pop and creating these incredible masterpieces.
Yeah. Donald Byrd, George Benson, Herbie Hancock, Earth, Wind and Fire.
Also there was Chick and then Prince's first album came out in 1978 too. It was really this moment, where a lot of things were colliding and everything was recorded together. Everything was still a band format. Everything was still musicians in a room recording the tape. You could feel the vibe, whether it was Prince or James Taylor, or Roberta Flack, you could feel the energy of that performer and I wanted to tap into that spirit.
I think it's interesting that you would connect so deeply with this era that you were just an infant then, so clearly you were exposed to a lot of music, I guess, growing up?
Big time, big time. My dad's a musician, he's from Panama, and he plays tenor sax, flute, congas, timbales. Growing up in the 80s in Minneapolis, there was Prince and the Time and that funk scene. There was also this huge reggae scene and a huge rock scene. My dad was in all of that, and then there was jazz fusion as well, so I heard all of that. My mom had a great record collection - the Ohio Players, Peter, Paul and Mary, Stravinsky. Her tastes were very broad, which probably explains why mine are too.
Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Well, this project begins with music for romantic conquest and ends with songs about social protest. In between you got a spiritual awakening. I hear that in “Place of Worship,” a little dance break with “Feel It To Know,” and a requiem for our lost brothers and sisters, “Don't Flatter The Sun.” Then of course there are the two ending tracks, which are just stunning. Talk a little bit about creating this music because you've been working on this for a minute, haven't you?
It's been five years, which is the longest I've spent on any one project for music. I needed to take time particularly to write. This is my most personal album. I'm from Minneapolis. A lot of people don't know that. My mom's house is about three blocks from where George Floyd was murdered on 38th and Chicago, which is the track honoring George. His family came to the Dakota to see me two Christmases ago which is very close. My first gig in Minneapolis as a leader when I was 17 was at 35th which is one avenue over from Chicago. It's really— this is my neighborhood, so I think I needed to take some time to approach that with reverence and respect and in a way that could inspire and enlighten, particularly as I'm a global artist.
I just did an interview with somebody in France who said he never heard of Trayvon Martin and I'm like, “Wow. So let me talk about it. That's kind of my role right now. The seventies to me was very much about party and politics, those two things. Side A is party and Side B is politics, as you said. Romance, Marvin Gaye, Michael Jackson, that kind of energy. Rick James a little bit, the Time with Morris Day, that kind of party Black-like cookout.
Make love, smoke a little something, energy, and then the last half is more political, it's more global. I have Balaji, who's an incredible filmmaker and rapper, who goes between the Congo and Brussels, our Antwerp brother, and Xenia Franca, who just won the Latin Grammy for Best Contemporary Pop Album. She's amazing, she's down in Sao Paulo and she's on “Place of Worship,” and she's singing in Portuguese.
I wanted to present a global blackness, and I wanted to present some of the aspects that we're dealing with in our community politically and socially. Marvin Gaye is a big part of that, Beyoncé and Marvin doing tributes, doing suites, making it danceable, but also keeping it political. While I didn't grow up in the 70s, I think I am a product of two people who did. My earliest memories is my mom taking me door knocking for Paul Wellstone, and raising money for parks and the Democratic party. I was maybe three years old, four years old.
That was like, fundraising, always getting out the vote.
Right. Exactly. They can't slam the door in a little cute little four year old's face.
Exactly. Well, let's start at the beginning of the record because the first three songs echo so beautifully Marvin Gaye, who is clearly an influence on what you've done here. I understand that Leon Ware, who co- wrote most of the wonderful music that Marvin did and so much other music as well. But you actually had a personal relationship with Leon Ware, didn't you?
I did, and I miss him. He was such a light. He was so kind and mischievous, funny and wise, and he really helped me connect the dots between jazz and R&B.I had a writing session at his house in Marina Del Rey where he has a big poster of Marvin on the wall, as well as a big picture of him and Barry Gordy on the wall. You're just surrounded by these spirits. He said, “We all sing jazz. Marvin, me, Al Green, Bill Withers, we all came from the church and we came from jazz. That's the foundation that we created which we now call R&B.” It was fascinating because he had watched R&B transform from what they made in the late 60s and 70s into where we were now with R. Kelly. He was like, “This is wild,” watching the transformation in all these ways, but he always talked about the art of seduction and that male vulnerability that you hear in his music and in Marvin's music.
I think that's so important because to me, that's attractive. That's actually the attractive part of when I listen to Marvin. He is seductive, but there's always an element of - this might not happen. There's that tension, and I think that's important in romance, because it's such a fragile union of souls, it's can be such a fleeting moment or it could be a lifetime of love.
That’s the beauty and the fun that I wanted to tap into. Leon always started with the congas. When he was showing me how to produce, he started with that Latin, Afro Latin Caribbean connection which I think is so powerful and so strong. It's such a thing in the seventies, with Santana and that everybody had that energy. It brings the connection to the mother land for me. That's why I had Pedrito Martinez from Cuba to bring that energy.
It's so important in romance that the feel of the heartbeat is woven through the whole thing. What I really like about it too, is that the songs that you have here on 1978 that the romantic songs are romantic, there's tenderness. There is longing, everything is so crass right now. It kind of stands out, that sweetness that's there. Was that something intentional? Is that something that you long to hear returning to music?
Well, I think it's important. I'm definitely not like one of the old man's on the hill, that it should be this way or this way. I think every artist has their own way of expressing it and honestly, not every generation has felt that level of love. I'm in the Gen X generation and we're very much like - leave me alone. You know what I mean? Kurt Cobain is our ambassador, and look how that turned out, just to keep it real. I think we all want love, but to be able to express love, I think you have to have lived it, in order to express it.
I've definitely been through a lot on my time on this planet and I think I've learned a lot. Also, I tapped into mythology on the album. There's Orpheus and Eurydice and what I love about that story, is how he charms the underworld with his music and his song in order to win back the soul of his beloved. He goes through all of that and then at the last moment he looks back and it all falls apart. I wanted to make that into a metaphor of relationships, when you try to get back with that ex, don't look back, because if you look back on your history and you start remembering who did what, then it pulls you out of the moment and you lose everything, and I've definitely been there.
Then in Isis and Osiris, there is this idea of this love of a person that evolves and goes beyond the physical, that goes into the spiritual, that goes into a God level of love and protection. I just have so much respect and love for black women who have always nurtured me, have always mentored me, have always looked out for me through my whole career, in one way, shape or form, whether it's on a record, listening to Billie Holiday or Ella Fitzgerald or Nina Simone or Betty Carter.
Musicians and people such as playwrights and dancers - artistic people that I've met through the years. It's just a different energy, a supportive energy and it's also an energy that is like loving for a purpose. You know what I mean? It's as if I'm going to give you this love and you need to go and do something with it. Not just be like, “whatever.” It's uplifting so I wanted to kind of express that sentiment as well.
Does the gentle tone that you've taken to these romantic songs have anything to do with the fact that you've got a beautiful little girl growing up in your house? Sometimes they say that the greatest thing that can happen to a Lothario is for them is to have a daughter to turn them right around.
Right. I'm definitely a better man since she was born. She's just the love my life. I got a lot more serious about my life and my health, who I'm around, my well- being, who she's around. Obviously, the nightlife can be fun, it can be seductive, but ultimately, you’ve got to grow up and say, “Alright, I'm still in it. That's the tricky thing. That's the thing that Marvin and Prince and Michael had to navigate, and while obviously I'm not on that level, in that world, there’s that same energy.
So yes, it does help to have family and a beautiful daughter, and I got to give a shout out to my wife, Talia Billig, who is the president of our label, Rainbow Blind Records. She also co- wrote three of the songs on the album.
Which three?
She co- wrote, “Dark Side of the Sun,” “Saturday Night, Need You Now,” and “Planet Nine” and she also did all the string arrangements for “Let's Get It” and for “Dark Side of the Sun.” She’s a quadruple threat right there.
Yeah, no question about it. Those are all great, great tracks. You mentioned 38th in Chicago and the song for Trayvon, the Minneapolis connection, which a lot of people don't really associate you with. I was wondering what it was like for you during the pandemic where we are sitting at home and all of a sudden, we witness a murder broadcast live on television and see this over and over again at a time where there was nowhere else to go. There was no escaping it. We're all glued to our televisions. Describe what that moment was like for you and how that informed the writing of this music 38th in Chicago and for Trayvon.
I think the first thing that came up was just fury because it happens so many times, and we see it, over and over again, or hear about it in our community, or we have close calls. I mean, Minneapolis is a beautiful place to live, but I have to say the police force is brutal. I'm scared to drive in Minneapolis to this day because you always get pulled over, you always get messed with and God knows what is going to happen to you. That was my entire upbringing as a young man, getting pulled out of cars by cops at gunpoint, and that's just what it is.
It's weird and it’s very strange because when you hear about someone like Trayvon or Mike Brown or Sandra and you're not from their hometown, you have that outrage, but it hits on a different level when it's your hometown. This happened literally at my mom's house. It's five- minute walk. I walked by what was then called Cup Foods at 30th and Chicago like a million times. That was the local corner store. I always had a bad feeling about it. There's certain blocks or certain streets that you just have a weird feeling about. I always had a weird feeling about that and I always avoided it. I know that now they've turned it into this beautiful tribute to him, which is great, and there's a lot of incredible social and political activists in Minneapolis, in the Twin Cities.
But yeah, I was pissed. I couldn't even speak and I made a little J Dilla beat and I chopped up some Richard Pryor doing stand- up talking about white people with police and black people with police. I made a video about it. That was my first immediate reaction. I let Richard Pryor speak for me and Jay Dilla speak for me. Then I had to sit with it, for, I guess, for five years. “For Trayvon” is actually the last song I wrote and if you listen, “For Trayvon” was the first song I wrote. It's the same chords because I wanted it to be like a Marvin Gaye kind of like a suite so it's the same core pattern, but one has like a more of a Marvin/Chopin sad thing. Then we moved it into that, Latin beat because we want people to get into action. We don't want people to be lethargic or stuck.
Like I said, I'm doing these interviews in Europe and they're like, “I didn't even know who Trayvon Martin was, you know?” And I’m like, “Well, then let's talk about it.”
It’s important to say their names, right?
Exactly. I say, “Well, now you do, and let's talk about some things that are happening in your country as well” because this isn't an American problem, it's a world problem. The response has been tremendous already. People are really resonating with both the politics and the romance. That's exactly what I hoped for because when I look back at Stevie, when I look back at Marvin or Roberta Flack, they took a stand. It wasn't all political music, but it was in there.
It was in there. There's the romance. There's the politics. There's a spirituality, but there's also the production, which you kind of grabbed and hold of and have made that really authentic to the era you’re representing. How did this band come together and what makes this production authentically reminiscent of the late seventies?
Well, this band is, I think, my best yet. We played together at the Blue Note in New York, and some of them were subs from my normal band. I knew all of them, like David Ginyard on bass who is a legend, and he subbed in, and Chad Self on key. When we played, I thought, “Yo, this band is it.” We all had a moment where we were, “Oh, this band is, is happening.” We stopped looking at each other because you don't want to mess it up. I just knew that this is the band that I've been looking for because the thing about this album sounding like it’s from that era is that half the production is the band.
When you listen to “Off the Wall,” it's the band and it’s the arrangements in the studio too. But they're playing together. It's not like you lay down the bass and then you lay down the drums. The band gets it tight first and then you can put the vocals on and do the production later. But there's that key funk feeling, and these cats really love, “I Want You” by Leon and Marvin. They love that era, they really do so to find people who really are inside that music and who could get my concept, which is always no rehearsal, record everything live. We went up to Woodstock, where we recorded everything live to two- inch tape in one room. It just had that essence, it had that tension because you can't mess up. There are no do overs. It had that relaxed, confident sound and they found a way to make it not feel retro, which was important to me. I wanted a little bit of like a J Dilla kind of like low end and drum feel so we worked really hard with the engineer to get it just right and I'm super happy with it.
This conversation has been edited for brevity and clarity.
