Under The Jam (IL4) Recorded 5/9/93

(HS) During the 5/9/93 recording session I forgot to hit the 'record' button when Greg and I started playing "Under The Bridge". After we played the song's intro section I realized my error and then started the recorder while Greg was playing the short cadenza into the main part of the song. (See Recording Notes, below, for an explanation of how the intro section was created for this release.) I think the knowledge that this take would be incomplete may have somehow had a liberating effect on both Greg and myself, because what followed that snafu was what I consider far and away to be the single best piece of balls-to-the-walls playing we ever did together. Although Greg and I bring a vast range of influences into Jugalbandi's music, in "Under The Jam" we proudly wear our love of the original Mahavishnu Orchestra (and its manic McLaughlin/Cobham guitar/drum duets) on our sleeves for all to see.

After twelve incredible minutes of country-tinged fusion jamming, "Under The Jam" reaches an amazing climax at 12:31, but instead of ending things there Greg and I fearlessly zoomed forth into brand-new territory and spent the next seven minutes staking yet another musical claim, after which we finally brought the piece down to the gentlest of landings. Even after listening to it countless times over the past fifteen years, "Under The Jam" still takes my breath away.

(GS) This a perfect example of why I like to improvise with something that has an expected format, or better, when there is none, or the forms aren't formal, they're maybe only suggestions. When I step off that path -- when I go where I feel like going, regardless of where I'm supposed to go -- that's when I seem to be at my best. When we recorded this, I wasn't at all worried about following the cues or patterns we'd set up for "Under The Bridge". We weren't trying to get a perfect version of the piece, so instead of having marks we were obliged to hit, they were there if and when we wanted them, like "get out of jail free" cards. We could jam castles in the air, if we felt like it. At times like that, all sorts of interesting little chunks spill out of the hidden spaces in your head, and you are likely to find yourself living things you only thought about in abstract terms, like daydreaming about the type of music some inner sense of power or emotion would make. Not a series of notes or chords, just concepts or feelings. And then one day you're waving your hands around and you're live, really doing it, right in the middle of it. Needless to say, this kind of situation only happens if the people (or in this case person) you're working with clicks with you, has enough chops and a similar mindset to go to that place. It should be no secret, and no surprise, that an interaction of this type helps you feel larger than your conscious self, outside your own little ego walls. It's a perfectly rational explanation for something often tagged as mystical. You synch up with someone else on so basic a level in the act of creation, you lead each other in such an unspoken way, that the dynamic is itself a third thing; bigger than both of you, clearly, because it contains both of you, and so exists outside of you. This is the "macro form", if you like, for producing the music. There is one hell of an interplay going on here. Chops have a lot to do with it but don't necessarily guarantee anything. I've jammed with some people with incredible chops and we couldn't synch up at all. The quality of the resulting work was well below what could reasonably be expected from the talents involved. You've got to have chemistry, and Hyam and I have had it since day one in February of '88. When this is at its best (like here, or "Uncle Sun", or the title track of The View Is Better From The Top Of The Food Chain), I listen back and I'm only abstractly aware that I'm the guitarist. The music stands on its own, and leaves me dumbfounded at having been a part of it.