Meeting John McLaughlin
by Martin Connolly
It was March 26th, 2014, and John
McLaughlin was playing with his group at the Blue Note Tokyo. Myself, my wife,
and our two sons were there to see him play. I had no idea that we would actually
get to meet John, but we did, and a year on, I am still savouring the moments.
I have seen John play with various musicians down the years in many countries. Resident in Japan since 1991, I saw him at the Blue Note during the Qué Alegría tour and there again for the Tokyo Live week residency. The latter was simply astounding. Joey de Francesco on Hammond organ, Dennis Chambers on drums, John on his beautiful Gibson jazz-box, playing mellifluous, ecstatic bebob go-ahead jazz, and, of course, it's all immortalized on CD. This time I was very glad to take the family and show them the musician I respect the most in the world.
We had just taken our box, for the early show, when I bumped into Souvik Dutta, Abstractlogix's boss, and tour manager. I had been emailing him in the run-up, on the off chance I might be granted an interview. I recognized him and approached him before the event was to begin, just to say thanks anyway –I'd already heard it was no dice. Souvik confided in me, however, using a phrase which certainly got my attention: 'Martin, they killed him'. After a nanosecond of shock, I understood where he was coming from: John had been giving interviews all day and signing stuff, and Souvik wondered if he could even play tonight as he must be so exhausted. I commiserated, and told him I understood, but thanks anyway. I don't represent any publication, but I reckoned I could have carried out a good interview and had it published somewhere. I wasn't expecting it when he told me he would get me in to see John after the gig. That was totally out of the blue, totally kind, too, and I suddenly felt blessed. I took my seat and told the fam the news. With that, I knew we had entered if not exactly The Twilight Zone then something like another dimension –which was appropriate, considering the band.
My review of the gig is here, for those who haven't read it already. Let's just say it was a total blast. Once it was finished, and the dust had settled, or even before, we hightailed it –with permission– to the narrow corridor leading to the backroom where the artists hang out. (I recall passing Gary Husband in that corridor and, for some reason, me suddenly doing a very Japanese-style palms together bow to him, exuding respect, which he reciprocated: it was a funny moment, especially for two non-Japanese people to do here in the heart of Japan.) We had to wait a fair few minutes, as John was chatting away with some other people who had come to see him. I had seen John kind of up-close on stage a few times, most notably, and closest, at the sound-check for his Live at the Royal Festival Hall concert, but that was years ago. And now there he was, upright and guitar-less for the first time ever, chatting away and looking very at much at his ease: a regular bloke, in other words. If a very distinguished-looking regular bloke at that! The other band members were all sitting round a longish table, enjoying the sushi and what not. Only John was afoot and entertaining the guests. It was soon time to leave the comfort of the corridor, to stop being a spectator, and take those few tremulous steps, family in tow, toward the musician who had been such an integral part of my intellectual, cultural and musical development for the last forty years. What would I say? What could I say?
I have seen John play with various musicians down the years in many countries. Resident in Japan since 1991, I saw him at the Blue Note during the Qué Alegría tour and there again for the Tokyo Live week residency. The latter was simply astounding. Joey de Francesco on Hammond organ, Dennis Chambers on drums, John on his beautiful Gibson jazz-box, playing mellifluous, ecstatic bebob go-ahead jazz, and, of course, it's all immortalized on CD. This time I was very glad to take the family and show them the musician I respect the most in the world.
We had just taken our box, for the early show, when I bumped into Souvik Dutta, Abstractlogix's boss, and tour manager. I had been emailing him in the run-up, on the off chance I might be granted an interview. I recognized him and approached him before the event was to begin, just to say thanks anyway –I'd already heard it was no dice. Souvik confided in me, however, using a phrase which certainly got my attention: 'Martin, they killed him'. After a nanosecond of shock, I understood where he was coming from: John had been giving interviews all day and signing stuff, and Souvik wondered if he could even play tonight as he must be so exhausted. I commiserated, and told him I understood, but thanks anyway. I don't represent any publication, but I reckoned I could have carried out a good interview and had it published somewhere. I wasn't expecting it when he told me he would get me in to see John after the gig. That was totally out of the blue, totally kind, too, and I suddenly felt blessed. I took my seat and told the fam the news. With that, I knew we had entered if not exactly The Twilight Zone then something like another dimension –which was appropriate, considering the band.
My review of the gig is here, for those who haven't read it already. Let's just say it was a total blast. Once it was finished, and the dust had settled, or even before, we hightailed it –with permission– to the narrow corridor leading to the backroom where the artists hang out. (I recall passing Gary Husband in that corridor and, for some reason, me suddenly doing a very Japanese-style palms together bow to him, exuding respect, which he reciprocated: it was a funny moment, especially for two non-Japanese people to do here in the heart of Japan.) We had to wait a fair few minutes, as John was chatting away with some other people who had come to see him. I had seen John kind of up-close on stage a few times, most notably, and closest, at the sound-check for his Live at the Royal Festival Hall concert, but that was years ago. And now there he was, upright and guitar-less for the first time ever, chatting away and looking very at much at his ease: a regular bloke, in other words. If a very distinguished-looking regular bloke at that! The other band members were all sitting round a longish table, enjoying the sushi and what not. Only John was afoot and entertaining the guests. It was soon time to leave the comfort of the corridor, to stop being a spectator, and take those few tremulous steps, family in tow, toward the musician who had been such an integral part of my intellectual, cultural and musical development for the last forty years. What would I say? What could I say?
Souvik introduced
me to John, who at first mis-heard my name as Mark, a moment which provided me with
my chance to open up and introduce myself. I felt a little awkward in the sense that
I was just a fan, although one who was interested in writing about John, so I knew
I should just make things very brief and say thanks for all the music, have the
wife and kids say hello, and then split.
I said I had been listening to his music since my early teens, the implication being that that was a very long time (!), and I also explained that I hit the strings myself. I further mentioned that I had sent him an academic paper on Theosophist Irish poetry a few years previous and that we had briefly corresponded. I was gratified that he remembered receiving it and reading it –'Oh, you sent me that?' he inquired. The conversation then veered toward Ireland, and as it did so, it was almost as if the ice had broken there and then. John seemed genuinely glad to meet someone Irish. He told me he had Irish ancestry himself, on his father's side, some uncle –indeed, I think he even said something about an uncle in the North of Ireland, which, in fact, is where I am from. Recalling, very probably incorrectly, unrecorded comments during my brother Jim's 1988 interview experience with John (see here), I inquired whether John had Scottish ancestry, feeling, as soon as the words left my mouth, my God, am I contradicting him? John however insisted on the Irish ancestry. And the next utterance out of my lips was to inquire if he liked Irish whiskey, which I soon realized was also quite dumb, as John is pretty famous for his clean living, as a rather spiritual chap. John replied generously, avoiding a flat 'nope' (!), that he had taken a sip of Ranjit's (the drummer) the other evening, but, making a face, said that that had been enough for him!
I thought by now I should just say 'thanks for all the great music' and split, but John suddenly became animated, talking about Ireland and all things Irish. It took me by surprise, as I fumbled about with whatever it was I was trying to impart to the man. He proceeded to tell me of a film he'd seen a few weeks earlier, called 'The Guard'. He said it was hilarious. I checked it later on IMDb –it's a raucous black comedy about an Irish policeman. It looked hilarious indeed, very edgy humour, too, which surprised me, and widened my appreciation of John, as a person who loves to have a bit of a laugh. Indeed, he was incredibly cheerful as I spoke to him, and he hadn't finished with Ireland, not by a long chalk. He next told me he'd once been gigging in the Emerald Isle and he and his band members were a tad thirsty and hungry, so they wandered down some street somewhere and asked this older local man if there was some place they could get a bite to eat and drink. The old fellow they asked was as Irish as the hills and without batting an eyelid, but apparently summing things up as satisfactorily as he ever wanted to, said 'Just go down yonder, you'll find Paddy's pub –very popular with the tourists!' This phrase really 'killed' John, to adapt a phrase of Souvik's. Maybe it was the whole thing of being viewed as just another tourist, as opposed to being some big famous person. John found this so funny: 'very popular with the tourists!' So much so, in fact, that he told it again a few minutes later, this time emphasizing the old fellow's words more, and, significantly, with an adlibbed Irish brogue to boot.
I said I had been listening to his music since my early teens, the implication being that that was a very long time (!), and I also explained that I hit the strings myself. I further mentioned that I had sent him an academic paper on Theosophist Irish poetry a few years previous and that we had briefly corresponded. I was gratified that he remembered receiving it and reading it –'Oh, you sent me that?' he inquired. The conversation then veered toward Ireland, and as it did so, it was almost as if the ice had broken there and then. John seemed genuinely glad to meet someone Irish. He told me he had Irish ancestry himself, on his father's side, some uncle –indeed, I think he even said something about an uncle in the North of Ireland, which, in fact, is where I am from. Recalling, very probably incorrectly, unrecorded comments during my brother Jim's 1988 interview experience with John (see here), I inquired whether John had Scottish ancestry, feeling, as soon as the words left my mouth, my God, am I contradicting him? John however insisted on the Irish ancestry. And the next utterance out of my lips was to inquire if he liked Irish whiskey, which I soon realized was also quite dumb, as John is pretty famous for his clean living, as a rather spiritual chap. John replied generously, avoiding a flat 'nope' (!), that he had taken a sip of Ranjit's (the drummer) the other evening, but, making a face, said that that had been enough for him!
I thought by now I should just say 'thanks for all the great music' and split, but John suddenly became animated, talking about Ireland and all things Irish. It took me by surprise, as I fumbled about with whatever it was I was trying to impart to the man. He proceeded to tell me of a film he'd seen a few weeks earlier, called 'The Guard'. He said it was hilarious. I checked it later on IMDb –it's a raucous black comedy about an Irish policeman. It looked hilarious indeed, very edgy humour, too, which surprised me, and widened my appreciation of John, as a person who loves to have a bit of a laugh. Indeed, he was incredibly cheerful as I spoke to him, and he hadn't finished with Ireland, not by a long chalk. He next told me he'd once been gigging in the Emerald Isle and he and his band members were a tad thirsty and hungry, so they wandered down some street somewhere and asked this older local man if there was some place they could get a bite to eat and drink. The old fellow they asked was as Irish as the hills and without batting an eyelid, but apparently summing things up as satisfactorily as he ever wanted to, said 'Just go down yonder, you'll find Paddy's pub –very popular with the tourists!' This phrase really 'killed' John, to adapt a phrase of Souvik's. Maybe it was the whole thing of being viewed as just another tourist, as opposed to being some big famous person. John found this so funny: 'very popular with the tourists!' So much so, in fact, that he told it again a few minutes later, this time emphasizing the old fellow's words more, and, significantly, with an adlibbed Irish brogue to boot.
The significance
of his adlibbing an Irish accent was that now John, little by little, appeared
to my perception to actually begin to use this accent, or a trace of
it at least, in subsequent utterances. It took me a minute to realize this, as
I was simply enjoying his telling, and re-telling, of that funny anecdote. Anyway,
I thought, time to introduce the fam!
John
was extremely gracious and courteous in greeting Megumi, and Leo (18) and Ken
(14). Meg was especially thrilled as it is not every day you get to meet such a
tall, handsome and truly dashing gent, never mind a famous one, and a legendary
musician at that. I explained that both kids were musical, Ken having played
piano for some years, and Leo now very actively playing guitar. I explained
that Leo was more into Heavy Metal than anything and John's response was
expansive and generous: 'There's nothing wrong with Metal!' he exclaimed, a
comment Leo enjoyed greatly. Of course, I've been telling Leo for years that
Metal owed quite a debt to Mahavishnu, and I think there is something in that.
Hearing John's endorsement of the genre hit me as very open and heartfelt.
(Thankfully Leo didn't ask him if he was into Brutal Technical Death Metal!)
For some reason,
Meg and I started imploring John to please encourage this fellow to join a music
club at his university, which would start the following month, as opposed to a
mountain climbing club, which we felt would be dangerous. Yes, we actually
asked him that. Funny what length parents will go to in order to get their way!
John obliged by asking him about his guitar playing and imparting the advice of
an old master, to get in there and keep at it, and he used a kind of karate-chop
style gesture to amplify his words, which we thought was quite an interesting
approach. It was as though John had suddenly gone into teacher-mode, but
teacher with a difference. This is the kind of teacher you could really learn a
lot from! (It must have worked: now Leo has his own band and plays live regularly.)
This
man, who didn't know any of us from Adam, was now chatting to us with such good
cheer,
and he was even happily posing for photographs, with me and with the whole bunch of us
in a group shot taken by Souvik.
and he was even happily posing for photographs, with me and with the whole bunch of us
in a group shot taken by Souvik.
And…
his Irish accent seemed to be getting stronger all the time… The next
photograph, which was just me with John was simply hilarious, and it is indicative of the kind of
fun and approachable person John is. As I squared up with John for the snap, I was beaming, and
sporting my jazzy hat. John got into position, but he bent his knees so that his face was actually lower than my own. When I asked
him, after the snap had been taken, why he had bent down so far, he deadpanned me with '… well, I didn't want to give you a
complex…' It was pure Woody Allen, and the delivery was superb, and now it was my turn to laugh.
I told him he was a 'bloody hilarious' person, or in Irish parlance, 'a
terrible man', and from there we seemed to have really clicked in our
communication.
We
suddenly started chatting away about stuff –and strangely, I can't quite remember exactly
what, but probably Irish stuff, and certainly music, and I'm sure Japan came
up, too. I think I may have told him about the Buddhist temple adjacent to my
university (I'm an Assoc. Prof at Tsurumi University, Yokohama) where I take the students every year for a one-night stay, complete
with excruciating 'zazen' practice. We definitely talked about Ireland a fair bit, though, as he seemed so into it. I'm sure I mentioned also about some of his amazing music and its influence on my life. Actually, I can't be entirely sure what we blathered
on about, but it was really quite fun.
As I was later told by Meg, apparently the band at the table found our chat very entertaining. They kept looking over at us. John would sometimes laugh out loud, and then sometimes I would. And… John's Irish accent was still going strong! Or, was it more that his behaviour had become Irish? However, I did not want to keep the poor man from a bit of much-needed R 'n R, but he kept on talking and we kept on chatting and enjoying the moment. Souvik was now edging in, trying to make it known that time was short.
As I was later told by Meg, apparently the band at the table found our chat very entertaining. They kept looking over at us. John would sometimes laugh out loud, and then sometimes I would. And… John's Irish accent was still going strong! Or, was it more that his behaviour had become Irish? However, I did not want to keep the poor man from a bit of much-needed R 'n R, but he kept on talking and we kept on chatting and enjoying the moment. Souvik was now edging in, trying to make it known that time was short.
I knew it would
all end soon, so I just asked him, having somehow communicated my complete love
of his contribution to life and to music, if I could hug him, and he said OK.
So, I hugged John Mahavishnu-Shakti-One -Truth-Band-Free-Spirits-Fourth-Dimension McLaughlin right then and there, and it was a precious
moment. I then shook his hand, and as I did so, looked down, as though to examine those wonderful hands which have created such immense worlds of music. I even placed my other hand on top, just to add to the heartfelt nature of the
moment.
I had met my musical, artistic hero, and I was truly moved. We even talked a little moment longer [and it was John who wouldn't end the conversation], about the original Mahavishnu Orchestra, with John saying wistfully and regretfully that they had never played Ireland. 'Ah', I interjected, 'but we'll always have 'A Lotus on Irish Streams'. John appreciated that remark, but still wanted to say more. For some reason, my memory is blocked on precisely what he said at this point, but it was to the effect that that band had really done something, really expressed something special. I told him I couldn't agree more.
So, our meeting in the backroom of the Blue Note Tokyo was drawing to a conclusion and so I just had to make one last statement to the man, which was basically about me not knowing John personally and yet knowing him, and loving him, because of the fantastic music he had created, and that, man, 'you have spread happiness all over the world.' To which John said thank you. He has likely heard something similar before, and doesn't have the ego to need to hear it. He's a gracious, sensitive, sophisticated, generous, immensely funny fellow (with, at times, an impish sense of fun) who obviously enjoys life to the full, and I feel blessed to have met him.
Our 'meeting of the spirits' had now come to a close, and John could retire and unwind for a few brief minutes before the next session would begin. The band members were all smiling, as though they had certainly enjoyed the encounter. I was kind of floating, and, with the family, then just floated very trippily out of the room.
I had met my musical, artistic hero, and I was truly moved. We even talked a little moment longer [and it was John who wouldn't end the conversation], about the original Mahavishnu Orchestra, with John saying wistfully and regretfully that they had never played Ireland. 'Ah', I interjected, 'but we'll always have 'A Lotus on Irish Streams'. John appreciated that remark, but still wanted to say more. For some reason, my memory is blocked on precisely what he said at this point, but it was to the effect that that band had really done something, really expressed something special. I told him I couldn't agree more.
So, our meeting in the backroom of the Blue Note Tokyo was drawing to a conclusion and so I just had to make one last statement to the man, which was basically about me not knowing John personally and yet knowing him, and loving him, because of the fantastic music he had created, and that, man, 'you have spread happiness all over the world.' To which John said thank you. He has likely heard something similar before, and doesn't have the ego to need to hear it. He's a gracious, sensitive, sophisticated, generous, immensely funny fellow (with, at times, an impish sense of fun) who obviously enjoys life to the full, and I feel blessed to have met him.
Our 'meeting of the spirits' had now come to a close, and John could retire and unwind for a few brief minutes before the next session would begin. The band members were all smiling, as though they had certainly enjoyed the encounter. I was kind of floating, and, with the family, then just floated very trippily out of the room.
..............................................................
Later, with Meg & the kids, we reflected on what kind of man John was. It was unanimous: he was a special kind of being. I have never met anyone quite so gracious and magnanimous. He didn't have to shower us with attention. He was likely tired, and he had just played his heart out on stage. Moreover, it wasn't like he was forcing himself to be a good host for a few minutes: not at all. Rather I had the impression of a person who had not lost his innocence. He was genuine in his communication, and his enthusiasm seemed to spring from the fact that he was talking to a person who also saw the joy and importance of musical expression. Music cuts through so much, breaking down whatever barriers could ever exist, and John is in music and of music, and therefore such a joyful soul. Joyful yes, that's what we took from meeting him, cheerful, joyful, and, bloody hilarious with it.
Later, with Meg & the kids, we reflected on what kind of man John was. It was unanimous: he was a special kind of being. I have never met anyone quite so gracious and magnanimous. He didn't have to shower us with attention. He was likely tired, and he had just played his heart out on stage. Moreover, it wasn't like he was forcing himself to be a good host for a few minutes: not at all. Rather I had the impression of a person who had not lost his innocence. He was genuine in his communication, and his enthusiasm seemed to spring from the fact that he was talking to a person who also saw the joy and importance of musical expression. Music cuts through so much, breaking down whatever barriers could ever exist, and John is in music and of music, and therefore such a joyful soul. Joyful yes, that's what we took from meeting him, cheerful, joyful, and, bloody hilarious with it.
Addendum...
Interview idea? Well, I publish my research in literature mostly, but embrace a number of other cultural forms now and again. Two examples: literary background of The Pirates of the Caribbean, and parallels between some McCartney-composed Beatles songs and stories by James Joyce. I have somehow always seen John's musical explorations as sharing something in common with Joyce, the great Modernist, who took his medium apart, in an ultimately joyful, if mischievous, way. McLaughlin has also re-written his chosen medium. I know enough about McLaughlin's output to ask profitably about the fine detail. And it's in the detail where we can really explore what John McLaughlin has achieved, in music, and even in the evolution of the human creative process. (Although I'm sure less earth-shattering matters would also be fun.)
I sent John that paper on Irish poetry, in fact wrote a dedication to him at the end (page 41), because it seemed appropriate. It was not simply a research paper, but actually a full text of a long poem from a 1901 collection of poetry by a Dublin Theosophist, Paul Gregan, with a critical introduction. John was into Theosophy for a while; furthermore, the poem itself describes a kind of journey, by two children, toward 'Sunset Town', which is some kind of mystical place of their hopes and dreams. The poem reminded me of Mahavishnu's 'The Noonward Race', or 'Dawn', or whichever of their compositions which seemed to perfectly embody the feeling of quest and journey. John had replied, in correspondence that he liked some Chinese poetry, which must have been Sheng-Yen, as now listed on his website.
I was in two minds whether to write anything about my encounter with John McLaughlin. I felt it was just a great personal experience for me, and my family, not necessarily to be shared beyond friends and family. But then I thought, man, this meeting does show a very interesting side to McLaughlin: his humour, for one thing! And his Irishness! I wanted to avoid the inevitable 'we-are-not-worthy' aspect, wherein I come across just as a fan worshipping at the altar of my hero. I am that, OK, but not only. (At school, in the late seventies, I was famous for being a McLaughlin 'nut'! despite the fact that most people didn't know who he was...) John's music, I believe, has an empowering effect on people's creative sense. The music he has spent a lifetime creating has been contributive to a consciousness that asks: 'Boundaries? What boundaries?' And this affects all who hear it, no matter the medium –which for me has largely been literary, but also musical.
On my own humble self-made CD (just a sampler on YouTube with excerpts), track five, at the two minute mark, is a tribute to John. I actually sent a CD with that track on it, together with number 4 and 8, to John years ago, and he replied, saying it was 'touching' of me to send them to him.
I forgot to pass on a greeting to John. I had met Larry Coryell in January, and we had corresponded after that by email. He told me: 'Say "hey" to John--he's a clever boy!' He certainly is, and Larry's no slouch either. I feel blessed to have met two of my musical heroes.
The image at the top of the page is of course a JMcL signed copy of The Inner Mounting Flame. Thanks to my brother Jim for asking John to sign it for me when he interviewed him all those years ago. What a treasure to have!
John McLaughlin is a great guitarist, a great composer, and a great person. He has compassion, passion, and a sense of joy in abundance. Many thanks, John!