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2023-01-13 04:39:24 By : Ms. Clara Zeng

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Jeff Coffin’s legacies with Dave Matthews Band and Béla Fleck and the Flecktones are more than enough to hang his hat on. But his solo career is a kaleidoscope of ideas, connected to musical traditions from all over the world. Laser Diode Hair Removal Machine

The Grammys | GRAMMY.com

Hanging out with Jeff Coffin is a bit like listening to his music. Engulfed in a whirlwind of musical references, you’re never lost. Music seems dizzyingly limitless when he describes it, like the fractals in the cartoon eye on his new album's self-drawn cover.

For a three-time GRAMMY winner with bona fides in two household-name bands, Dave Matthews Band and Béla Fleck and the Flecktones — Coffin has zero airs and a whole lot of music knowledge. 

Our conversation left me to check out Albert Ayler's rip-your-heart-out gospel album Goin' Home , Van Morrison 's country-breezy Tupelo Honey and Charles Mingus ' warped masterpiece Oh Yeah . 

Understanding Coffin’s background enhances the listening experience of his inspired latest release, 2022's Between Dreaming and Joy , which is nominated for Best Contemporary Instrumental Album at the 2023 GRAMMYs.

Read More: 2023 GRAMMY Nominations: See The Complete Nominees List

Featuring "Middle Eastern frame drums, Brazilian percussion, Moroccan vocals, a turntable artist, multiple horns, an ice cream truck, a Hungarian tárogató and an African ngoni" — as well as modern greats like guitarist Robben Ford , bassist Vicente Archer and drummer Chester Thompson — the album feels jubilant and companionable.

It’s surprising to learn the album was recorded completely remotely. 

"It was crafted in a way that I've really never crafted a record before," Coffin tells GRAMMY.com in its New York Chapter Office, ahead of DMB's sold-out Madison Square Garden gig. So, to him, this GRAMMY nomination is extra sweet: "it's a recognition of the process, but also a recognition of the work. Not just in this record, but the 19 others before it."

If you're familiar with Fleck and/or Matthews but not so much Coffin and his musical universe, let Between Dreaming and Joy act as a gateway to all 19 — with the Mu'tet, in co-billed LPs, all of it. And read on for an in-depth interview with the musician, clinician and searcher.

Jeff Coffin. Photo: Rodrigo Simas

This interview has been edited for clarity.

Congratulations on your nomination for Best Contemporary Instrumental Album at the 2023 GRAMMYs. What role has the Recording Academy played in your career over the decades?

You know, when I was in the Flecktones, we were nominated a number of times; I won three GRAMMYs with Béla. It's always kind of been interwoven with the things that I've done. 

The Flecktones were a hard band to pin down. We won for Best Pop Instrumental Album [for 2008's Jingle All the Way ; we were nominated [that same year] for Best Country Instrumental Performance [for "Sleigh Ride"].

It's interesting; I remember the first time we were nominated was for Left of Cool [at the 1999 GRAMMYs]. I remember it being my first time there, and just being like, "Wow, this is unbelievable." We didn't win, and I remember thinking that I wasn't disappointed: Oh, it's OK, it's not a big deal that we didn't win. It reaffirmed that this is not why I do what I do.

You know, it's funny. [With Dave Matthews Band], it's a machine. We have like 90 people on the road with us, of course, and the band is really all about the music. We've talked about it a lot: how the music has got to come first.

I think that music is a service industry. I think that first, we serve the music. Then, we serve the other musicians we're playing with, and then we serve the audience. So, we're at least fourth on the list. But by serving those others, we get served.

I talk to my students about this all the time: how important it is to recognize that circle. I think about management, and I'm thinking, Well, they're just thinking dollars and butts in seats . Which I understand: that's part of it. But I feel a disconnect sometimes in the way they approach things, as opposed to the way we approach things.

So, for me, with awards and accolades and things like that: I've had my fair share, and I'm very honored and grateful for that. But that's not why I do it. I'm not like, I'm going to do this record and submit it for a GRAMMY .

Read More: Béla Fleck Has Always Been Told He's The Best. But To Him, There Is No Best.

At this point, you've won three GRAMMYs. How does it feel to earn another nomination for Between Dreaming and Joy?

It's big for me. It really is. There was a ton of work put into it during the pandemic. Most of the record was remote, although you'd never know listening to it. It was crafted in a way that I've really never crafted a record before. So, it's a recognition of the process, but also a recognition of the work. Not just in this record, but the 19 others before it.

I've got six others in the can that I'm working on, that are basically ready to go. It was a very prolific time for me during the lockdown. So, this material on the record was culled from a lot of other stuff I had recorded also. 

I wrote about 30 or 34 new tunes, and they were all over the place from the standpoint of genre or style. So, when I put this together, I had to decide which tunes I was going to put into this pot. There are a couple that I was on the fence about initially, but I'm really glad they're on there because it kind of diverges, and then comes back into a particular space.

So, yeah, I'm just thrilled about it, and the GRAMMY Foundation <a href="https://grammymuseum.org/national-reach/grant-program/">now the [GRAMMY Museum Foundation ] has been part of that. I love what they do educationally; I want to be more involved with that, because I do a lot of education work outside of touring. I've done 325-plus clinics over the years, and I've been teaching at Vanderbilt now for eight years.

Tell me more about your teaching style, and how it's in dialogue with the other parts of your career.

I've looked at people that have kind of been DIY, like Dave Liebman , Bob Mintzer , Bobby Shew , these kinds of people. I don't try to do exactly what they did, because that's how they see things. But I've been able to kind of muddle out a career [incorporating] certain aspects of what they do.

The books that I've written are all for my students; they have nothing to do with the things that I'm working on, because I've already done it. So, the method books, the etude books — I have something called The Road Book , which is all the things you do before you leave the driveway. These are for students that are just getting out there and doing this stuff, to help them along the way.

I really respect what [The Recording Academy] has done educationally around the country and the world. I think it's awesome, and really makes a big difference. You know, music is an essential part of education on every level — not just in higher education, but deep in the schools. A lot of those programs are being cut, and it's categorically unfair.

Let's talk a little more about Between Dreaming and Joy . You mentioned that you pulled these songs from disparate sources. So what was the throughline, or thesis? What made these songs swim together in the same tank?

When I was with Béla, one of the things I remember him talking about was the sequence of a record, and talking about how it really makes or breaks a record. It's really the flow, now that I think about it. 

I put a lot of effort into putting sequences together. The middle tune, "Spinning Plates," is just me — all me, all horns. I think there's percussion on there, and it's sort of the place where you would flip the record over. It's a breath between the first and second section of the record. I did it that way on purpose.

It's kind of the spirit of the tunes that [make them] work. "Vinnie the Crow" wouldn't have worked in any other place except for opening the record.

It's very strident. It has that swagger in it.

Yeah, and it has the only co-writer on the whole record: a drummer named Alex Clayton, who was living in Nashville and a Belmont student. He's turned me on to some really great s—. He was the first person who ever told me about Anderson .Paak and Donald Glover . He's really got his ear in these different places. 

He's a very, very dear friend. We were just hanging out and were like, "Let's write a tune." He had a groove, so I put some stuff down, and just kind of went from there.

But coming back to the sequence: I want it to be a journey. I don't want it to be the same tune written seven or eight different times. I wanted to touch on the different influences and interests I had musically, but not be so removed from the other tunes that it doesn't connect.

Because there's a bunch of stuff that I also wrote that's very global music-oriented. There's this one tune written off this traditional Peruvian folk melody that wouldn't have fit on this record. It's this really elaborate thing. I've got Brazilian percussion on it. There's some Afrobeat stuff that I did with Chester Thompson. 

There's a lot of pretty esoteric stuff, too. [Turns to publicist Lydia Liebman, Dave Liebman's daughter] Stuff your pops would be way more into than this kind of thing.

Jeff Coffin. Photo: Rodrigo Simas

I remember something Béla said to me years ago: "I'll never be an Indian musician. I'll never be an African musician. But I can bring those elements into what I do, and have them inspire the music that I make." 

And it's the same with Dave Matthews. He's from South Africa, and he went back in his early teens and grew up there for a number of years. His music is very influenced by that music — by those dances, by that structure of music, and there's a hybrid of things that are going on there. So, to me, using the term "jam band" for a group like that doesn't do it justice at all. I don't have any idea what you'd call it.

I love when they asked Miles about his music. They said it was jazz, but they said, "What should we call it?" He said, "Call it music." I'm totally down with that, and that's how I look at it. It's just music.

It's coming from different places I'm influenced by. Bob Dylan , Johnny Cash , Ornette Coleman , Miles Davis , et cetera, et cetera: they're all the same spirit. That's what I'm looking for in the music that I make, the players I play with, the way I'm putting something together. I like art that is mysterious — that I don't totally understand.

We first spoke for an article about Yusef Lateef. Given the sheer range of ethnic instruments you play on Between Dreaming and Joy , it seems like you're in his lineage. Can you talk about your ongoing process of learning new instruments and weaving them into your work — choosing what's appropriate and what isn't?

Here's the thing, too: I know a lot of people who play a lot of different instruments. Michael League was playing Moroccan frame drums, but everybody knows Michael from playing bass with Snarky Puppy . And the ngoni on "When Birds Sing" was played by a Moroccan woman named Sarah Ariche, who also sang. The title is kind about her, also: what she's doing is this angelic vocal stuff.

I'm really interested in a lot of different sounds. Some of this is also coming from people like Roland Kirk. This gets into a whole other tangent, but the idea of string theory is that everything is a vibration; therefore, everything is sound.

I have the tárogató I bought from Charles Lloyd ; my bass flute is Yusef Lateef 's. I feel like I'm just the curator of these instruments, because I'm always like, "This is Yusef Lateef's bass flute." I don't ever say, "This is my bass flute." [Same with] the tárogató. There's kind of a spirit imbued in the instruments.

You're calling out a spirit, even when the musician is alive and well — in Lloyd's case.

Right, yeah. I bought Yusef's main tenor and bass flute after he passed. The first time I played the tenor, I recorded it; I was like, I want to hear what happens the first time . And this tune came out. I called it "Yusef." And as I tell people, he left the tune in the horn. It's a very powerful tune. My hands were off of it.

For those who might know Dave or Béla but not be familiar with your solo work, with the Mutet or otherwise: how do you conceptualize it in relation to these household names? What's the nature of that isthmus between these two massive entities?

Let me take a step back. 

So, people ask about my influences. My main influences are people like Coltrane , Sonny Rollins and Ornette. Then there are the people I played with all these years, having spent 14 years with Béla, Victor Wooten and Roy Wooten — Future Man. And now, 14 years with Dave, [bassist] Stefan [Lessard], [trumpeter] Rashawn [Ross] , [violinist] Boyd [Tinsley] when he was in the band, [drummer] Carter Beauford , [guitarist] Tim Reynolds , and now [keyboardist] Buddy Strong. 

I mean, we are creating every single night for three hours a night — playing some of the same music, but recreating it nightly also. So, there are no more profound influences on me than those players: the people that I play with at home, that I've had in my bands, where we're digging deep in a way that is proactive.

So, when I'm listening, I'm active in that process, but I'm not participatory in that process — in the sense that I'm not making music when I'm listening to a Coltrane record or whatever. But when I'm making music, I'm participatory; even if I'm being silent, I'm still part of what's going on. To me, that changes everything.

Jeff Coffin. Photo: Rodrigo Simas

Can you connect this to your experiences with Matthews and the Flecktones?

I remember that when I first started playing with Béla, I was like, "I don't know any of your music; your audience knows the music better than I do." Which was the same thing when I joined Matthews: "The audience" — they still do, actually — "knows all the words."

With the Flecktones, one of things that was an epiphany for me was that I would look out and see people dancing. We'd be playing in 13 or 17 or some crazy s—, or moving time signatures throughout the piece.

But what it made me realize is that it's all on up or down. It doesn't even matter. Like, even on the Matthews stuff, there's a tune called "Rapunzel." I remember the first time we heard it, when I was with Béla because we were doing the opening dates. 

We couldn't figure out the time signature. You have four great musicians who are listening to this and just going, "What is going on?" It's in five, but if you listen to it, you would not know that it's in five, unless you're really tuning in and going, "OK, I've got to figure this out," or watching somebody's foot, given the way Carter's playing polyrhythmically over it.

But, again, we joke about this: everything's in one. Just one-one-one-one-one-one . If the pulse is there, than it's going to feel good. It's going to make a mixed meter not feel like a mixed meter, because it's going to be all pulse. 

That's why I love African music so much; it's all pulse. You can feel it in six; you can feel it in two; you can feel it in three. You can also put different groupings; you can do sevens over the top. It all works, as long as the pulse is there.

It seems that you've conceptualized your solo work as an ongoing investigation of your influences.

I think that's a great way to put it: an ongoing investigation of my influences. Not only my immediate musical influences, but my historic musical influences also, and trying to see it from above. Not just the immediacy of it, but the things that are in the periphery also.

I'm kind of going, I wonder what would happen if I did this, and drop this in there. I wonder what the sound of bass flute and bass trumpet is. The tárogató was on the new Dave record also, and it's a Hungarian instrument, It's a wooden soprano, basically. It's like an English horn.

Sometimes, I'll also give myself parameters to work within. I was doing a livestream every Friday all the way through the pandemic. There were nights when I would be like, I'm going to start writing a song at six o'clock because my livestream is at seven. I'm going to get it done within an hour, play it for them on the livestream, and maybe play along.

I tried to bring them into my process of doing what I was doing. It was really fun. It was really, really challenging. And I didn't have any idea what the f— I was doing. 

So, it's really just about exploring and trying things. There's an element of randomness to it, but also an element of focus and "Let's try this and see what happens." I've always been really into pedals, envelope filters and harmonizers. Doing double-horn stuff. I've got this triplicate flute with one mouthpiece. I've got singing bowls and bells and gongs. I'm a total bell freak. Anything I can get my hands on that I can make music from, I'm going to try it.

Jeff Coffin. Photo: Rodrigo Simas

You've mentioned, like, 15 musical traditions and 150 instruments in this interview. Do you ever feel like you're still getting started in learning about all the music the world has to offer?

I do, actually, yeah. I feel more creative than I've ever felt in my life. 

But here's the thing, too: I play for a different reason now than I used to. I think that's partially because I'm able to articulate my own feelings better — not only verbally, but musically. When I was younger, I was playing from a different emotional place. Today, some of the reasons for playing are the same; some are very different. But I feel like I can make decisions based on experience.

I'm still wrong a lot, by the way, which is really interesting to me. I'll listen to a couple of tracks with some people, and I'll think: OK, I know the one that I like. I'll say, "What do you guys think?" and they'll both pick the other one. I'll be like, Oh, OK, great. Let's use that one. Good thing that wasn't up to me.

A year and a half ago, I went down to New Orleans and did a record with [drummer] Johnny Vidacovich, [saxophonist] Tony Dagradi and [drummer] James Singleton [of jazz quartet Astral Project]; Helen Gillet was on the cello on one tune. It's very, very different than this record. It's open and free.

I'm trying to mix it myself, and I've been working on it for a while. I think it sounds pretty good. But I'm not a mixing engineer, and those guys are wizards. So, I'm sitting around with some people, and I'm like, "Look, man, I want your brutally honest feedback. If it doesn't sound good, I want to know, because I'm trying to mix it."

I still second-guess myself on certain things, which I think is great, because I think that's how we learn also. You've got to keep making mistakes, because after a while, you find those successes in there. I think it's Vic Wooten who says something along these lines: "The only reason you don't succeed is because you eventually stop trying."

The History Of Yellowjackets In 10 Songs: A Gateway To The Jazz Fusion Greats

Photo: Getty Images for the Recording Academy

Paul Simon's GRAMMYs bash included moments of vulnerability, generation-straddling duets and plenty of other surprises. Stream it on demand on Paramount+ and read on for eight highlights.

Many tribute shows for legacy artists end in a plume of confetti and a feel-good singalong. But not Paul Simon 's.

At the end of the songbook-spanning "Homeward Bound: A GRAMMY Tribute To Paul Simon," the only person on the darkened stage was the man of the hour. Sure, the audience had been baby-driven through the Simon and Garfunkel years, into the solo wilderness, through Graceland , and so forth. But all these roads led to darkness.

Because Simon then played the song that he wrote alone, in a bathroom , after JFK was shot.

It doesn't matter that Simon always ends gigs with "The Sound of Silence." After this commensurately cuddly and incisive tribute show, it was bracing to watch him render his entire career an ouroboros. 

That "The Sound of Silence" felt like such a fitting cap to a night of jubilation speaks to Simon's multitudes. The Jonas Brothers coolly gliding through "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover," juxtaposed with the ache of Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood 's "The Boxer," rubbing up against Dave Matthews getting goofy and kinetic with "You Can Call Me Al," and so on and so forth.

The intoxicating jumble of emotions onstage at "Homeward Bound: A GRAMMY Tribute To Paul Simon" did justice to his songbook's emotional landscape — sometimes smooth, other times turbulent, defined by distance and longing as much as intimacy and fraternity.

Here were eight highlights from the telecast on Dec. 21 —  which you can watch on demand on Paramount+ now.

Read More: Watch Jonas Brothers, Brad Paisley, Billy Porter, Shaggy & More Discuss The Legacy And Impact Of Paul Simon Backstage At "Homeward Bound: A GRAMMY Salute To Paul Simon"

After Brad Paisley 's rollicking opening with "Kodachrome," the momentum cheekily ground to a halt as Harrelson dove into a rambling, weirdly moving monologue.

"The songs of Paul Simon really are like old friends," the cowboy-hatted "The Hunger Games" star remarked, interpolating one of his song titles and crooning the opening verse.

Harrelson went on to recount a melancholic story from college, where the spiritually unmoored future star clung to Simon songs like a liferaft. We can all relate, Woody.

Brooks has always been one of the most humble megastars in the business, praising his wife Trisha Yearwood — and his forebears — a country mile more than his own. ( Speaking to GRAMMY.com , he described being "married to somebody 10 times more talented than you.")

The crack ensemble could have made "The Boxer" into a spectacle and gotten away with it, but Brooks wisely demurred.

Instead, the pair stripped down the proceedings to guitar and two voices; Brooks provided an aching counterpoint to Yearwood.

The "Pose" star blew the roof off of Joni Mitchell 's MusiCares Person Of The Year gala in 2022 with "Both Sides Now," so it was clear he would bring napalm for a Simon party. 

Given the gospel-ish intro, one would think he was about to destroy the universe with "Bridge Over Troubled Water." 

Instead, he picked a song of tremendous personal significance, "Loves Me Like a Rock," and dedicated it to his mother. The universe: destroyed anyway.

The question remained: who would get dibs on the still-astonishing "Bridge Over Troubled Water"? A song of that magnitude is not to be treated lightly.

So the producers gave it to generational genius Wonder , who'd bridged numberless troubled waters with socially conscious masterpieces like Songs in the Key of Life .

But he wouldn't do it alone: R&B great Ledisi brought the vocal pyrotechnics, imbuing "Bridge Over Troubled Water" with the grandiosity it needed to take off.

Simon embraced the sounds of South Africa with his 1986 blockbuster Graceland , yet his island connection is criminally underdiscussed; since the '60s, Jamaican artists have enthusiastically covered his songs.

For instance, it's impossible to imagine a "Mother and Child Reunion" not recorded in Kingston, pulsing with the energy of Simon 's surroundings.

Enter genre luminaries Jimmy Cliff and Shaggy , who flipped the tribute into a bona fide reggae party.

Leave it to the Recording Academy to avoid superficiality in these events: Mitchell's aforementioned MusiCares tribute included beyond-deep cuts like "Urge for Going" and "If." 

Most remember "Homeless" as Ladysmith Black Mambazo unaccompanied vocal cooldown after bangers like "You Can Call Me Al"; eight-time GRAMMY-winning vocal group Take 6 did a radiant, affectionate rendition.

When Simon took the stage at the end of the night, he was visibly blown away. Touchingly, he shouted out his late guitarist, Joseph Shabalala, who founded Ladysmith Black Mambazo.

"Imagine a guy born in Ladysmith, South Africa, [who] writes a song in Zulu and it's sung here by an American group, singing his words in his language," Simon remarked. "It would have brought tears to his eyes."

Graceland was Simon's commercial zenith, so it was only appropriate that it be the energetic apogee of this tribute show.

Doubly so, that this section be helmed by two African artists: Angélique Kidjo , hailing from Benin, and Dave Matthews , born in Johannesburg.

"Under African Skies," which Simon originally sang with Linda Ronstadt is a natural choice — not only simply as a regional ode, but due to its still-evocative melody and poeticism.

"This is the story of how we begin to remember/ This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein" drew new power from Kidjo's lungs. 

Afterward, Matthews — a quintessential ham — threw his whole body into Simon's wonderful, strange hit, "You Can Call Me Al."

With his still-gleaming tenor and still-undersung acoustic guitar mastery, Simon brought the night home with "Graceland," a Rhiannon Giddens -assisted "American Tune" and "The Sound of Silence."

At 81, Simon remains a magnetic performer; even though this is something of a stock sequence for when he plays brief one-off sets, it's simply a pleasure to watch the master work. Then, the sobering conclusion: "Hello darkness, my old friend," Simon sang, stark and weary. With the world's usual litany of darknesses raging outside, he remains the best shepherd through nightmares we've got.

And as the audience beheld Simon, they seemed to silently say: Talk with us again .

15 Essential Tracks By Paul Simon: In A Burst Of Glory, Sound Becomes A Song

Photo: Douglas Mason/Getty Images

Backstage at Newport Folk 2022, the world's preeminent banjoist brushed off notions of supremacy in his field — and vigorously praised the awe-inspiring collaborators who make his bluegrass dream happen.

Imagine being told for decades upon decades that you're the finest in the world at whatever it is you do in this life. It happened to Béla Fleck , the banjo virtuoso (to trot out the word again) who's earned 15 GRAMMYs and 35 nominations (plus a Latin GRAMMY) across half a dozen genres for his trouble.

But, miraculously, all this veneration never went to his head. Partly because Fleck has very little use for it.

"It puts some pressure on you that doesn't really help anything," Fleck tells GRAMMY.com backstage at Newport Folk 2022, in a folding chair surrounded by moldering Civil War-era forts. "It means that things have worked in my career… but in truth: there is no best. There are people who have always done things better than me on the banjo and always will.

"I certainly work hard at it, and I take it very seriously," Fleck continues. "There are things that I've come up with and abilities I have that other people don't have, but that's the way it's supposed to be with everybody who's a serious player on their instrument."

Of course, he understands he's a leader in his field. But Fleck is far less interested in being "the best" than surrounding himself with musicians that inspire and galvanize him to be great. "It's never a job," he adds. "It's always like: "What's the best we can do? How can we propel each other?"

That’s exactly why Fleck does this — not to collect endless accolades. It was the animating spirit behind his "My Bluegrass Heart" performance at Newport Folk 2022, where he was flanked by first-call musicians who happen to be close friends — like fiddlist Michael Cleveland , dobro/lap steel player Jerry Douglas , and so many more.

As the dust of last weekend's Newport Folk settles, read on for an in-depth, career-spanning interview with Fleck about his performance at the historic festival, the cruciality of ripple and flow in his work, and what he wants to creatively avoid as he settles into his mid-60s.

This interview has been edited for clarity.

Tell me about your history with Newport Folk Fest.

I grew up in New York City, and we always heard about the Newport Folk Festival — the stories about Joan Baez and Bob Dylan going electric and Pete Seeger and everything.

So, I was very aware of it, but it was a long time before I finally got here. I think it was with New Grass Revival. I'm pretty sure we got to play here one year. Maybe it was a bluegrass-themed stage that year. But then I got to come back a number of times and play the Jazz Festival too.

It's a beautiful spot. But it's not just the place; it's the history and being part of what feels like a historical event and a legacy of great music being presented. Things ripple out from here. People hear about what happens at Newport.

I feel like as music fans, we're born programmed with Newport stories, even though half of them are probably apocryphal. Pete Seeger with the axe…

Yeah, maybe so. The stories about Pete getting up and tuning Dylan's guitar for him in the early years, and then being dismayed about how loud he was when he rocked out and all that stuff.

But the Jazz Festival, too, is just as impactful — all the stories from that.

Did you come in contact with George and Joyce Wein a lot?

I did get to know them a little bit. They used to book the Flecktones on European tours — those tours that [came about] from the Jazz Festivals. That was the goal as a jazz-oriented group — especially coming from outside the jazz world like myself.

Just to be on those jazz festivals — Montreaux Jazz Festival, North Sea, Molde, all these amazing festivals in the summer. We got on that circuit for a while thanks to the folks from George's office. 

I think he actually liked us, because at the time, I didn't think he liked us that much! But then, the last time I was here, he came over, riding up in a golf cart and said, "Oh, yeah! You guys are so great!" I was like, "Wow, we tried so hard to get you on our side — and it seems like you are!" So, it's nice when that happens.

Read More: 5 Reflections On George Wein: How It Felt To Be Around The Architect Of The Modern Music Festival

I only interviewed him once, and this is my first Newport Folk. But I wish he was riding up to us right now with his cane and cap.

Me too. Me too. He did a lot of good. He really, really did. I read his book, too [ Myself Among Others ].

So, early on with the Flecktones, you were truly straddling both worlds when it came to Newport. It was a perfect fit.

Right. There was one year when I played the Folk Festival with my bluegrass trio. And then, a few years later, I came back and played the Jazz Festival with Jean-Luc Ponty and Stanley Clarke .

It was at Newport that year that Ted Kurland came up to me; he was the booking agent for Pat Metheny and Chick Corea . He said, "Oh, Chick Corea's thinking about doing duets next year! Would you be interested in being one of his duet partners?" I was like, "Whoa!" It changed my life.

So, I remembered that happening right behind the main stage, when I was walking by today. That's where it happened, and I got to play with him for a decade, or a decade and a half — make records and learn so much about music from Chick, being in his orbit.

I have great memories of that. He was an incredible inspiration, but also he became a very dear friend and mentor to me. It was a loss, but I'm still amazed that it even happened.

I just think of his light . Nobody I've ever talked to has ever had a bad word to say about him.

Yeah, but he had a work ethic, too.

Of course! He made, like, seven billion records!

Just flying from one situation [to another].

I remember when we made our record together, [2007's] The Enchantment . We worked really hard for four or five days in the studio. And as we finished the last take of the last song, instead of going in to listen to takes, he pulled out the music for the next gig and started practicing. I was like [grins] " That's the way you do it! That's how you stay great your whole life!" It's all about the music.

Read More: In Remembrance: Chick Corea Played In More Ways Than One

Tell me about your lineup for this particular gig at Newport Folk.

This is the dream team of dream teams, in terms of the bluegrass community. And when I say "bluegrass," you have to extend your imagination of what bluegrass is, because these are musicians who can play anything and do play anything with all kinds of people.

So, folks like Sam Bush and Jerry Douglas , who are our special guests today — they're known for all the genre-bending that I am. They move seamlessly in and out of rock 'n' roll and jazz situations.

That's always kind of been your MO. You're playing with people like [The Flecktones'] Jeff Coffin and Victor Wooten , who are musical universes unto themselves.

Right. You don't expect that so much from folks in the bluegrass world, but it's just as prevalent. These are folks who are just as curious and just as able. They're lifelong fans of music and learning.

There's a lot of joy when we're all together, because we all feel that way. It's never a job. It's always like: "What's the best we can do? How can we propel each other?"

So, anyway, those are our guests. But the basic band is fabulous, too — the biggest stars [chuckles] , I guess, if you can look at it that way, in the bluegrass world. 

Our fiddle player, Michael Cleveland , is a stunner. He's come up in the tradition. He's a Kentucky guy, and he's blind — just happens to be blind. He plays like — I don't know — Kenny Baker on steroids? This old way of playing, but with this youthful spirit. He really wants it, like every solo is the last one he's ever going to play. He's so good.

Then there's Bryan Sutton , who's kind of the reigning king of bluegrass flat-picking guitar these days. He's also constantly playing on all kinds of music. He's very able in all areas. And he's one of the biggest online teachers out there; he's got hundreds of thousands of students. So, he's a big presence in that world as well. But as a player, he's just stunning.

Mark Schatz — he's a bass player. I've been playing with him since 197...4, I believe? Maybe '75?

Oh, no. I moved up to Boston in '76. So, '77. And we were in a lot of bands together before I joined New Grass Revival with Sam Bush in the '80s. Then, he went on to play with Tony Rice for many years, and Tim O'Brien , and Nickel Creek . So, he's just a premier, first-call bass player who happens to be my roomie from when we were still in our late teens, early 20s.

Then, we've got Justin Moses. Justin is a multi-instrumentalist, and he's a stunner, because he can play pretty much as good as any of the other people on stage on their instruments.

We do double-banjo stuff, and he can cut it just fine with me. He goes up and hits the double-fiddle stuff with Michael, and it's perfect. He can get up and do double-mandolin stuff — intricate stuff. He can play guitar; he can sing. Mostly, he plays dobro with us, because that's what we need. But he can play anything. He's a very musical character.

On this tour, we have different mandolin players. Previously, we had Sierra Hull , but she wasn't able to come out with us this time. So, we found a relative unknown, compared to some of the other guys: Jacob Jolliff. But he's been in a lot of great bands; he played with Yonder Mountain [String Band] and he had a band called Joy Kills Sorrow.

He's just one of these effortless, speed-demon mandolin players. I'm not always a fan of the word "shred," because it feels a little demeaning to me if you're really trying to play music. But he can shred . I mean, he can really burn it on the mandolin. He has no speed limit. But, also a very musical character, and he sings well.

So, it's a power pack, man. Oh, and also, Noam Pikelny , one of the great banjo players of the current time. He's going to join us for a triple-banjo number as well. He plays with Punch Brothers . It couldn't be a better band.

It doesn't seem like you had to delicately curate the band. It seems like most of these guys are just friends of yours, and it naturally fell together.

Right. The thing that makes it easy to be friends is that everybody has that work ethic. If there was somebody who didn't want to work on it and make it as good as it can be, it's harder to be friends, because resentments would start to creep in.

That's the secret to Chick's nature: He surrounded himself with people that were willing to do the work, and showed up knowing the music. So, they could just be pals. He wasn't like, "Hey, you've got to work on that. That's not up to snuff."

You’re not naturally magnetized to anybody who just sloughs it off.

That's the thing about all of this. You can be really great friends if the other stuff is not … [Trails off] I mean, if you're good enough friends, you can deal with anything. But what I'm saying is there's something very comforting about the fact that we don't have to worry about the music. Because we're going to work on it; not because it's just there .

Everyone's willing to do whatever it takes to make it happen, and then you can just have a great time together. It's just joy, because that's all taken care of.

I love that record you made with [Malian kora player] Toumani Diabaté , The Ripple Effect . What do you appreciate about playing with him?

Well, he's one of the most elegant musicians I've ever played with.

It's all about the flow. And banjo playing is all about flow and rippling, too.

So, when you get two ripplers from different continents together and try to find a way to ripple together, it's going to work or it ain't, you know? And the reason it worked is because he's just such an elegant listener and supportive player. He's a stunning soloist, but he doesn't seem to want to solo as much as he wants it to feel amazing.

Music needs to dance. Instrumental music has to have a feel, or it's not going to work. It's got to create emotion. I'm very rhythmically inspired. If the rhythm is good, the ideas will come. If the rhythm isn't good, it's a struggle and a pain in the ass to play music.

So, making the music dance is a must, whether it's the Flecktones or playing with Toumani or this bluegrass band. Every chromosome needs to swing and dance. Then, you add to that some amazing, melodic playing on top of it — or whatever the song calls for — and you've got something. It makes you feel something.

And I would say that dance can be debated, too. It doesn't have to be a dance ; it has to be a feeling. I like that stuff that grooves along, because I play a banjo with short notes. But it can just as easily be the slowest thing in the world. It just has to have a sensibility, feel and mood.

The records of yours I grew up on were UFO Tofu and the self-titled. Any memories of that time in the music business you can share?

It's funny: I hear people say, "Oh, it was so much easier when the Flecktones came out. You could have an instrumental band do really well." And I'm just like, [incredulously] "Easy?! What are you talking about! We're playing in 27/8!"

Honestly, we did have an amazing run. Not that we're not going to play together. But that run-up when we first came out and how well it did was a shock to everybody. It's not like it was common; it didn't happen to a lot of instrumental acts.

It was something about the chemistry and the makeup of the band and all the different boxes we checked that made it appealing. It was fun to watch. Victor spinning his bass and Future Man playing his drumitar and me up there with a banjo — "What are you doing up there with those guys?" — and Howard [Levy] with the harmonica and piano.

It was compelling almost as a circus act. But then the music would hopefully have enough to make you want to stay with it and come back and hear the next record.

Hopefully. I don't mind the pop element if it makes you listen enough for the real stuff under the surface to dig in. Music needs those layers. There needs to be something that makes you want to listen to it again or you go, "Oh, that was cool," and never listen to it again.

There needs to be enough melodicism or a hook or groove or something that makes you go, "Wow. I want to hear that again." And as you continue to listen, you hear all the things that are under the hood that make the music so good.

That first impulse sometimes isn't what you listen to anymore, but without the first one… we wouldn't still be talking about the Beatles and all the underlayers and subtle production elements if it didn't have that pop element that made us listen to it so many times that we know every single chromosome of what's in that music.

I think that's true of everything. It has to have those layers.

You've been described as a virtuoso for as long as I can possibly remember, but I'm sure you still feel you have a ways to go, decades in. I'm sure there are still mountains you want to climb. It's not like you reach the peak early and then just plateau.

Yeah. I mean, I have my frustrations with things I haven't been able to pull off technically. A certain level of ability. If I was able to go all the way into jazz, I'd be a better jazz player. If I was to go all the way into Indian music and do the things I learned from Zakir [Hussain] , I'd be a way better Indian player.

And then there are techniques where, as I get older, I have to maintain my level. It's not as easy at 64 as it was in my 40s and 50s.

More stretching, more exercising, more practicing?

Well, more just playing all the time, whereas I used to put it down, do other things, come back to it and be right there. But now, I really need to stay on top of my thing if I want to be at that level.

And yet, I have a better idea of what I want to play. Like they say: "If I could be 15 and know what I know now." The things that I know I don't want to sound like. The curation of my playing is better now. Better choices. But sometimes the ability can be scary: "I don't know if I can pull this off. I could pull this off 10 years ago." So, hopefully, my playing will change as I get older, to find the right way to play for that age and not try to do things I can't do.

I remember Bill Monroe keeping the songs in the same key he sang them as a young man. He couldn't keep the pitches; it was really hard to listen to. I don't want to be like that: "Oh, you need to hear the old stuff." I want it to be: "He's aging well, and he's doing things he didn't do before that have their own worth." That's the goal. We'll see what happens.

I'm so lucky I get to spend my life doing this, because if I sit with the banjo, I'm happy. I like to study and learn, and the sound it makes in my lap. There's always more to explore and more to try.

Newport Folk Festival 2022 Recap: Taj Mahal, Brandi Carlile With Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon & A Crowdsurfing Singer

Taylor's swift rise to the top

Music's Biggest Night, the 54th Annual GRAMMY Awards, will air live from Staples Center in Los Angeles on Sunday, Feb. 12 at 8 p.m. ET/PT on CBS.

In the weeks leading up to the telecast, we will take a stroll down music memory lane with GRAMMY Rewind, highlighting the "big four" categories — Album Of The Year, Record Of The Year, Song Of The Year, and Best New Artist — from past awards shows. In the process, we'll discuss the winners and the nominees who just missed taking home the GRAMMY, while also shining a light on the artists' careers and the eras in which the recordings were born.

Join us as we take an abbreviated journey through the trajectory of pop music from the 1st Annual GRAMMY Awards in 1959 to last year's 53rd Annual GRAMMY Awards. Today, the GRAMMY Awards remember Taylor Swift's rise to the top.

52nd Annual GRAMMY Awards Jan. 31, 2010

Album Of The Year Winner: Taylor Swift, Fearless Beyoncé, I Am…Sasha Fierce Black Eyed Peas, The E.N.D. Dave Matthews Band, Big Whiskey And The Groogrux King Lady Gaga, The Fame

Swift became the youngest Album Of The Year winner in GRAMMY history at age 20. How? By being truly fearless. The young country singer/songwriter established a reputation for writing authentically personal songs at an age when most writers are still rhyming June and moon. The results have been both instantaneously likeable and acclaimed. Her competition was not lightweight. Lady Gaga was arguably the most talked about artist of the year, and she would win two GRAMMYs this year on the strength of this album and her hit "Poker Face." The Black Eyed Peas had the anthem of the year with "I Gotta Feeling," and took three GRAMMYs, including two in the Pop Field and one for Best Short Form Music Video for "Boom Boom Pow." Beyoncé made a strong concept album that would ultimately result in five GRAMMYs. She also won one for her version of Etta James' "At Last" from the film Cadillac Records, giving her a total of six for the year, a record for a female artist. Finally, the Dave Matthews Band made a heartfelt song cycle on the passing of band member LeRoi Moore.

Record Of The Year Winner: Kings Of Leon, "Use Somebody" Beyoncé, "Halo" Black Eyed Peas, "I Gotta Feeling" Lady Gaga, "Poker Face" Taylor Swift, "You Belong With Me"

The Kings Of Leon broke out in a big way in 2009, using massive hooks, good looks and a great preacher's-kids-gone-rock-and-roll backstory to become the talk of the rock world and capture the Record Of The Year GRAMMY for this Top 10 single. It managed to beat out impressive tracks from four other artists who were all Album Of the Year nominees. The Kings would pick up a second award for Best Rock Performance By A Duo Or Group With Vocal, the same award they won the previous year for "Sex On Fire."

Song Of The Year Winner: Beyoncé, "Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)" Kings Of Leon, "Use Somebody" Lady Gaga, "Poker Face" Maxwell, "Pretty Wings" Taylor Swift, "You Belong With Me" Several Record Of The Year repeats turned up in the Song Of The Year category, but it was Beyoncé's non-Record Of The Year-nominated "Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)" that took the prize. Along with Beyoncé, the song was written by Thaddis Harrell, Terius "The Dream" Nash and Christopher "Tricky" Stewart. Record Of The Year winner "Use Somebody" was written by the entire band of Followills: Caleb, Jared, Matthew, and Nathan. Gaga's "Poker Face," for which she teamed with RedOne, made the cut with a strong sonic combination and allusions to poker-faced sexuality. "Pretty Wings," Maxwell would turn in a Marvin Gaye-inspired slow jam that he wrote under the pen name Musze, along with Hod David. Swift and Liz Rose wrote "You Belong With Me," one of eight nominations for Swift this year.

Best New Artist Winner: Zac Brown Band Keri Hilson MGMT Silversun Pickups The Ting Tings

Closing the circle on a country-rich slate of winners, the Zac Brown Band may have been a surprise winner given that Brown was working as a chef not all that long ago. But the earthy cowboys won out over the urban soul of Hilson, who also earned a Best Rap/Sung Collaboration nomination for "Knock You Down," which featured Ne-Yo and Kanye West. The electro-psychedlia duo MGMT was also nominated for a Best Pop Performance By A Duo Or Group With Vocals GRAMMY for "Kids." Los Angeles-based indie rockers Silversun Pickups earned their first and only nomination to date, as did the UK power poppers the Ting Tings. 

Tune in to the 54th Annual GRAMMY Awards live from Staples Center in Los Angeles on Sunday, Feb. 12 at 8 p.m. ET/PT on CBS.

Follow GRAMMY.com for our inside look at GRAMMY news, blogs, photos, videos, and of course nominees. Stay up to the minute with GRAMMY Live. Check out the GRAMMY legacy with GRAMMY Rewind. Keep track of this year's GRAMMY Week events, and explore this year's GRAMMY Fields. Or check out the collaborations at Re:Generation, presented by Hyundai Veloster. And join the conversation at Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube.

While making his new album, 'Family,' a fall put Edmar Castañeda in the hospital—and then the pandemic hit. But recuperating with his wife and kids gave the album its heart and soul

"My Favorite Things" is one of the most elastic songs in the American canon. You can sing it straight, as in The Sound of Music, twist it into a new form like Ariana Grande or blow it to high heaven like John Coltrane. When the COVID-19 pandemic made the world housebound, the song seemed to materialize in a whole new way in Andrea Tierra's house.

"My girl was practicing that [song in Spanish] last year for her music class," she tells GRAMMY.com. "I had all that there ready." But this new version of the song wouldn't just be in Spanish. Such communion with household objects that had special meaning, she thought, would be perfect for her husband, Colombian jazz harpist Edmar Castañeda's, album Family. Aiming to uphold the integrity of the original lyrics, she translated them as cleanly as possible into Spanish. Then, as the world went into lockdown and she spent more time at home, she switched out the objects in the lyrics to reflect her favorite things—and her family's.

This version of "My Favorite Things" closes out Family, which arrives May 21. Featuring Tierra on vocals, Shlomi Cohen on soprano sax and Rodrigo Villalon on drums, Family is a percolating new high watermark for the jazz harpist. The album mixes originals, like "Song for Jaco" and "Acts," with "My Favorite Things" and "Cancion Con Todos," a Latin American standard that nods to the couple's Colombian roots.

GRAMMY.com traveled to Teaneck, New Jersey to speak with Castañeda in his backyard. Eventually, Tierra joined him, and so did their two children, Zamir and Zeudi. It concluded with all of them together, reflecting how Family was a co-creation of the entire Castañeda household. Miraculously, the COVID-19 pandemic and three months out with a broken wrist due to a fall during the album's production didn't derail the creative process. Instead, it imbued it with new emotional dimensions and brought the family closer than ever.

Read on for the full conversation with the Castañeda family as they discuss the place of the harp in jazz, splitting the difference between Colombian and American influences and how all four left their fingerprints on the final product.

Edmar Castañeda.Photo: Adrien H. Tillmann

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Are there many jazz harpists out there?

Edmar: There are not many. I haven't met many jazz [harp] players. I know one, but he's in Switzerland right now. Brandee Younger, but she plays more soul music.

Did you play as a kid?

Edmar: I started when I was 13, in Colombia. Then, I came here when I was 16.

How'd you get exposed to the instrument in the first place?

Edmar: The harp is a traditional instrument from my country. In one part of Colombia, the way we play the harp is very [much] folk music. When I was seven years old, my mom took me [to this place] and that's when I met a harpist for the first time. I fell in love with this instrument.

And then, when I was 16, I came to this country, to New York. I [got into] jazz for the first time. I just fell in love with that music.

I generally think of the harp as being a classical instrument… Oh, hey! How's it going?

Andrea [arriving]: Nice to meet you.

Edmar: ... Yeah, it's one of the oldest instruments on Earth.

David plays it in the Bible.

Edmar: All the instruments come from the harp, you know? The piano comes from the harp. It was a very popular instrument a long time ago.

How did you realize jazz and the harp could intersect? Were you into people like Dorothy Ashby?

Edmar: Yeah, I think Dorothy's the only one who really plays jazz, for me. Alice [Coltrane] was mostly a pianist and singer, right?

Yeah, she was a bebop piano player. The harp shows up on the more glissando, open-ended material.

Edmar: It was more experimental music with jazz. But the harp is not a lead instrument like [with] Dorothy.

How did you make that connection, then?

Edmar: I started with folk music. Then, I met jazz with the trumpet—I used to play the trumpet. In high school, they put me [on the] trumpet—no harp for anything. That's when I learned about Duke Ellington, Miles—all these crazy-amazing musicians. I started getting inspired by that and tried to imitate it a little bit on the harp.

Edmar Castañeda.Photo: Adrien H. Tillmann

Andrea, what can you tell me about your musical background?

Andrea: I was born in Medellín and my dad is an improviser. An improviser of rhymes. He's a poet. So, I was raised [with] that kind of influence. That's where I started to sing. My siblings are musicians, too.

Edmar: We both come from folk music

Andrea: A folk music background.

What does Colombian folk music sound like?

Edmar: There's many, man. We have 1,000 rhythms.

I figured. Boiling it down to one sound would be like reducing American music to one genre.

Edmar: From my part, it's the harp and it's very flamenco and [mimics chugging train beat]. For her, it's more guitars.

Where do Colombian folk and Colombian jazz meet?

Edmar: For me, I never heard jazz in Colombia. There's great Colombian jazz, too, but when I was there, I was more into folk music.

Do you still play the horn?

Andrea: He teaches our son!

Does he have some chops?

Edmar: Yeah, yeah! He's 10! He's getting there! He likes Clifford Brown and all these great jazz players. For [Andrea], we use more of her background in lyrics. She writes amazing lyrics and we mix them with folk and jazz and world music. On this album, we did a version of "My Favorite Things."

Andrea: We did it in Spanish. It's very, very attached to the real version. I did the translation the best I could. We added a pajarillo, which is …

Andrea: Traditional-verses music. We mixed a lot of different things in the song.

Edmar: It's very flamenco.

Was it difficult to capture the cadence of the original in a Spanish translation?

Andrea: Yeah. Actually, my girl was practicing that last year for her music class. I had all that there ready. For me, the most important thing was to be so true to the song itself. To the lyrics. It's set the way it is, I fixed it the best I could in Spanish and then added my favorite things so the song would be respected.

It's one of those songs you can keep interpreting and interpreting and it never loses its elasticity.

Edmar: But we couldn't find any in Spanish!

Andrea: It also became so powerful because, during this pandemic, we've learned to live with our favorite things. Those little things you have at home are the little things that make you happy.

Andrea: Yeah. I think it's a great song for this time.

Where does Family sit in your body of work? How many albums had you done prior?

Edmar: Sixth. This is my seventh.

How did your recording career get started?

Edmar: My first album was maybe 15 or 20 years ago. It was different concepts with [clarinetist] Paquito D'Rivera, [drummer] Ari Hoenig and [flugelhornist] Mike Rodriguez. And then I did this same group with a trombone—Marshall Gilkes. Then, I did a duo album with Gonzalo Rubalcaba. He's one of the top piano players from Cuba.

Then, I did the World Ensemble, which was a nine-piece band, live at the Jazz Standard. Then, I did a live album with Hiromi, a Japanese pianist [called] Live in Montreal. Then, a duo with [harmonica player] Grégoire Maret. Then, we came to this Family album.

Edmar Castañeda.Photo: Alexandre Pinto

What was your artistic intent with Family as opposed to past albums? What did you want to do differently this time?

Edmar: This album I recorded before the pandemic—last November. I had an accident [in which I hurt] my hand. I fell from the attic and broke [points to wrist] this bone and this bone.

That must have been a nightmare.

Andrea: We had just recorded the first part of the album and everything. We had to take him to the ER, surgery, screws, everything.

Do you have your strength in that hand?

Andrea. Robocop. That's what we call him. [all laugh]

Edmar: I got a second chance to play this instrument again. My fate was to believe that it was going to be OK. Then, when I was getting better, I said, "OK, I'm going to start playing and working again," and this pandemic kicked in really bad.

The whole year, I said, "I'm going to finish the album," and I pulled all the energy from what we learn as a family here. I record the harps here and I have a studio here, too, so I recorded everything here with that feeling of gratitude for life. To have my family, to be strong, to believe.

Andrea: He was so strong during the whole thing. All the time, he was smiling like this [makes blissful expression]. I cried more than him! When I sent the first picture when he got out of the hospital, my friends were like, "Is he coming out of a spa?"

How long were you out of commission?

Edmar: It was supposed to be eight months, but in two or three months, I was ready.

The tune that is titled "Family"—I was touring the whole year before with Hiromi and it was really difficult for me to be away from my family. I composed this tune [throughout] the whole year, little by little, everywhere, and when I came home one day, I finished it and played it for the kids.

I said, "Look! I've composed this! Do you like it?" And my kids were like [hushed tone] "Wow!" I said, "What would you name this tune?" My son said, "Family." They gave it a name. Everything was related to family.

What can you tell about the writing process behind Family?

Edmar: It pretty much is originals. We have, what, two standards? "My Favorite Things" and a beautiful tune from South America. [turns to Andrea] You can explain that more.

Andrea: ["Cancion Con Todos"] is about the power of America coming together. It's like a tour through the very important cities and [countrysides] of America. Calling people to be together, you know? To have all those things that make us better. It's a very old tune from Latin America. It's like a hymn.

Edmar: [As for] the rest, I did a tune inspired by Jaco Pastorius. I composed that before I went on tour with Hiromi. She liked it and wanted to record it, but I wanted to do my version with a trio, [which] I never did before. I did this tune inspired by his playing.

Andrea, can you talk about your vocal contributions to the album?

Andrea: I think it was important to bring that folk story or background to the music Edmar does. For me, the message is very important. Especially that it connects non-Spanish-speaking people to our culture, but also how I connect people from my background to jazz culture. The kind of music to which we're exposed [to].

I think that's my primary contribution. Also, as a woman, it's hard to pursue a career or keep on singing when you have two kids who are home-schooled since day one. They've never been to school. They're home-schooled by us forever. 

Trying to keep up with all those things, women often have to divide themselves between those decisions. "Should I pursue my career and my dreams? Should I have kids?" For me, I just want to say, "Come on, you don't have to do that." It's probably harder—you probably have to work a bit more—but I think we are capable of doing both.

Edmar: I'll give you more of the tunes. There's one titled "Battle of Faith." That's the opening of the CD. It's just believing. Never giving up. There's another one called "Acts." It's inspired by one of the disciples in the Bible. I love his passion for the faith of Christ.

Edmar: [blown-away look] The determination to believe it no matter what. He's a warrior, you know?

Zeudi, what instruments do you play?

Zeudi: I play harp, ukulele and piano and I sing.

What about you, Zamir? I hear you're ripping on the trumpet. Like Clifford Brown.

Zamir: I don't really listen to him. I like more Miles.

Edmar: It's a family album.

Meet Delbert Anderson, A Native American Trumpet Master Interweaving Navajo Melodies With Jazz

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