NOW DON’T YOU FRET: On the four strings of the bass sits an infinite array of pitches. The art is in finding them and articulating them with the fingers of the left hand. This the bassist must do without the fret markings that aid the guitarist — or the black-and-white keys that guide the pianist, or the valves that serve the trumpeter.
Without the bass, even the most formidable ensemble would sound hollow, sparse, musically unimposing. Trumpet legend Dizzy Gillespie famously called the bass “the most important instrument in any band,” yet this noble musical instrument rarely receives the recognition it deserves. Tucked discreetly behind the rest of the ensemble, it inevitably yields the spotlight to blaring trumpets, muscular saxophones, resplendent pianos and hard-hitting drums.
So why is the lowly bass, with its hushed sounds and murmured pitches, so important?
“For a lot of reasons, one of them being harmony,” says prominent Chicago bassist Larry Gray, pictured on this page. The Western harmony that is the backbone of most classical music and jazz is built on bass notes, which in combination with higher pitches create chords. Take away the bass note, and the chords fall apart, the stray pitches rendered less coherent to the Western ear.
In jazz, however, the bass plays additional critical roles. For starters, the instrument is vital in making music “swing,” a term that refers to a subtle rhythmic momentum. If the bassist knows what he’s doing, the music will seem to ride buoyantly on a backbeat like a pebble skipping on water. If he doesn’t, the music will sound as square as a military march.
And those are just the bare essentials of the role of the bassist, who has to play differently for each kind of music. In 1930s swing music, for instance, “I’ll just basically play walking bass lines,” says Gray, meaning he’ll steadily hit a note on each beat to keep the music pressing forward.
“If I’m playing with someone like (bebop saxophonist) Frank Morgan, on the other hand, we’ll do more of a call-and-response thing,” says Gray, referring to the ancient African practice of improvising a musical dialogue. “In bebop, the musicians form a kind of circle, in which we’re all equally trading ideas.”
Thus Gray will forsake a straightforward beat to respond to a saxophone phrase or a piano chord with distinctive, unexpected notes of his own.
The miracle is that bassists accomplish all of this, and more, with but four strings drawn tautly over a huge wooden instrument that serves as a sound chamber. As a bassist plucks a note, the vibrations of the string resonate in the large space, then project out into the audience.
To casual listeners, it’s a mysterious art. Even to professionals, it can be a daunting task.
No less than Pablo Casals, the great cellist (whose instrument is the closest cousin to the bass), said, “Every morning I get up and try to find a `B’ on the `A’ string.”
ACES OF BASS
The stand-up bass or double-bass first appeared in the 16th Century, when it was used in church to underscore the lowest notes of the organ. By the 17th Century, the bass emerged in theater orchestras, thereafter turning up in operatic and symphonic repertoire. The bass has a regal history in jazz, with artists such as Walter Page (of Count Basie’s band), Jimmy Blanton (Duke Ellington’s) and Chicagoan Milt Hinton (1) representing early high points in the instrument’s evolution. Slam Stewart (2) advanced the bass language by singing in unison with his instrumental lines (though an octave higher), a novel effect that produced phrases more expressive than either the bass or the voice could create alone. To this day, Ray Brown (3) stands as one of the most technically accomplished players to emerge from the bebop era, yet with an uncommonly warm and vibrant tone. Charles Mingus (4) may be remembered best as a composer and a leader of harmonically daring ensembles, but he also was a virtuoso soloist who accomplished technical feats unimagined before him. As the language of jazz changed and expanded in the ’60s through the ’80s, the instrument’s role evolved as well, with players such as Ron Carter, Charlie Haden, Chicago’s Malachi Favors and Dave Holland (5) each in different ways liberating himself from the bass’ traditional, supporting position in an improvising ensemble. In the ’90s, a new generation of young artists has emerged, none more technically gifted nor more historically aware than Christian McBride (6), who at 24 stands as the most accomplished young player of his generation.
