STRAIG AHEAD IM MM By Lynn Darroch \t\th e n I think of jazz in Portland, I think first of Mel Brown. He was w V born in 1944, and grew up here listening not only to recordings of bebop and the big bands, but to the live jazz and jam sessions that form the backbone of Portland's musical tradition. Mel Brown grew up with a rich heritage that he now carries forward into the future—by teaching others in the way the music was passed on to him, and by setting a standard for excellence among local musicians. But there are other sides to Mel Brown as well. He has toured with many of the Motown groups, including Martha and the Vandellas, the Temptations, and the Supremes, he has played for two years on the Easter Seals Telethon band, and with many of the top names in jazz. He has also recorded extensively. The first album he appeared on was The Pigmy, with Billy Larkin and the Delegates on Aura Records, and some of his subsequent dates include Martha and the Vandellas Live, The Temptations Live At the Copacabana, TCB with the Temptations and the Supremes, and The Magnificent Seven with the Supremes and the Four Tops, all on the Motown label, and The Bittersweet with the Main Ingredients for RCA. He still finds time for local benefits and appearances at schools, as well as owning and managing his drum shop. “I try to achieve a lot in a short time,” he said as we talked this November. ‘‘I’ve always been a hyper kid, I’ve just always worked..." And he carried himself like an athlete confidently approaching middle age. n jK el Brown was playing professionally by the time he was 15. But his KwK talent and ambition weren’t the only factors in his success, for he was schooled by a number of Portland musicians, and his memories of the early 1960s here evoke their names and the places where his early life was lived: Marianne Mayfield, Cleve Williams, Bobby Bradford, Ray Hite, Andre Garand, Jim Smith, Quen Anderson, George Page, Omar Yoweman...the Mural Room, the Egyptian Theatre, the Cotton Club, Eliott Grade School, Washington High, the Elks Lodge in Tillamook.... He has seen the opportunities for younger musicians to learn from their elders, and the spirit of unity among jazz players, decline in Portland over the past 15 years. But he is optimistic about jazz in this city, and he has been in part responsible for the increasing amount of it available in Portland today. Wherever he plays, Mel Brown is a success, and he prides himself on presenting music that people can relate to in a manner that is entertaining for audience and musician alike. I picture him trading eights with a soloist: keeping a light, quick roll on the snare, he builds volume while riding the high-hat; as the roll crescendos, he breaks off suddenly and with perfect timing strikes the crash cymbal, leaping up to stop its ring by putting both arms around it—ha! The crowd claps as he drops back onto his throne and falls in neatly behind the soloist again without missing a beat.... Flair, color, drama and a solid performance: Mel Brown not only has the chops, he can deliver the music. Mel Brown believes that every seven years his lifestyle changes. Now he is 37, just a shade overripe for the next phase.... "It’s getting to the point now where I’m just sort of treading water because I’m trying to do too many things at once...” Since the early 70s, he has been "more into the business side of things," and now he is looking more at the music again.... Whatever it may be, watch his next move, because when he turns this corner, he’ll likely go on as he always has—straightahead. l U U hen I was in seventh grade I * W started learning to read music. I wanted to play so badly that this drummer Mike Hill showed me a few things, and I've always been pretty adept at math, so I started figuring things out mathematically. He told me to go through the Baldwin Band Builder and play everything, then to look through other books. When I found one I could play the first few pages of, I'd grab it and figure it out mathematically...! had a paper route and spent the money on drum books...I’d go down to the music store and stand outside just dreaming of a drum set—all I had was a practice pad and sticks. I was so serious about music that I worked my ass off all the time, even while the other guys were more into chasing girls...I grew up fast, and never had any real teenage years' because I was always working. I was involved in sports, but I missed a normal high school thing. At that time, Bobby Bradford and Cleve Williams would wait for me after school, and I’d go over to Cleve’s house and they'd show me how to set up certain figures with the Walter Bridges Big Band; it was Count Basie and Duke Ellington, over and over. Later I worked at the Jazz Quarry with Julian Hinson, who probably taught me all of the basics about what’s happening musically. Omar Yoweman brought me along too, he was one of the mentors when we were coming up. During ^ t time, that kind of teaching of younger musicians was what everybody did. If they saw a talent, they would push you, because they were helped that way themselves. They were just passing it down the line. And at that time they weren’t seeing a lot'of younger players looking at jazz, because the thing was turning more to Rock. But I just really loved the jazz. Those opportunities to learn from older musicians just aren't available to younger musicians today. Back then, there were a lot of jam sessions where guys could really learn to get things together...James Benton had a garage in the back of his house that he converted into a club. He had a huge barbecue pit in back, and during the summer months, every day religiously all the musicians would congregate over there around twelve o’clock, barbecue like crazy, and if you felt like playing, you went inside and played. The guys would stay around until about six, then everybody would go home, change, and go to their respective gigs. When the gigs were over, everybody came back there and we'd jam until five or six in the morning. They were doing that almost every night, and that’s where I cut my teeth on a lot of things...It was really a musical family. If one guy was having a difficult month, all the musicians would throw in fivd, ten, fifteen bucks, and go over to the guy's house and say, "Hey, man, take care of the bills, get some food in for your family.” They really looked out for each other. I saw this begin changing around the middle '60s, when Rock started getting a lot of coverage on TV and the club owners started thinking that people weren’t going to listen to jazz, or that they could make more money off Rock. Things have never come back the same since. I really wanted to play good, and I was always trying to play catch-up, so I worked extra hard. One summer, I practiced six days a week, from eight in the morning until three the next morning. I missed breakfast and lunch, dinner was kind of shoved down my throat...I was really into playing the drums. And that solid work all paid off. I went to PSU on a music scholarship through the Oregon Women’s League. The three years there were good from a technical standpoint. We didn’t really have any jazz, so I played in the orchestra. I had classical training all the way up. When I was at Washington High School, they had a youth program to prepare Photograph by Lynn Darroch Clinton St. Quarterly 17
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