By Jacob Katel
By Laurie Charles
By Nate "Igor" Smith
By Abel Folgar
By Kat Bein
By Jacob Katel
The lead-off track of Stir It Up: The Music of Bob Marley, like everything else on Alexander's new disclong tribute to the late reggae pioneer, represents an intriguing experiment in the studio. The pianist straddled alternating rhythm sections; supplied the assembled musicians with inventive arrangements of "Could You Be Loved," "Stir It Up," "No Woman No Cry," "I Shot the Sheriff," as well as lesser-known Marley tunes, brought in Saturday Night Live trombonist Steve Turre for a couple of guest shots, and then watched what happened.
"I treated the two rhythm sections like they were one," the Jamaican native says from his apartment in New York City, where he has made his residence since leaving Miami. "I conceived this seamlessness, with certain cutoff points in the music. There's no tricks, no overdubbing. It just happened right there -- bam! -- on the two-track tape. If anything, I'm the conduit, I'm the passage between the two patterns. I feel equally at home with things that are Jamaican and what came with ska and reggae, and rhythm and blues music, and jazz. I guess I'm a Jamerican."
Stir It Up, so titled because of its mix of elements not often heard juxtaposed with one another, doesn't represent the first time that Alexander has blended his exuberant jazz stylings with homegrown sounds. The pianist met Miami steel pans player Othello Molineaux while he was performing at the old Airliner Motel in 1978, and the two subsequently collaborated on several cross-cultural recordings, including 1980's Ivory and Steel and 1988's Jamboree, the latter of which included a remake of Marley's "No Woman No Cry." He released the similarly themed Caribbean Circle in 1992 and worked with several Jamaican musicians for the same year's Yard Movement, which launched the Island Jazz label.
Alexander was born in Kingston in 1944, a year before Marley's birth in Nine Miles. As a teenager he worked as a session musician at some of the same studios where his countryman would later make his own mark. Although Alexander left for Miami at age seventeen, more than a decade before Marley became an international superstar, he gained a great appreciation and respect for the reggae sensation.
"He was a world figure who altered thinking among people through his music, in a powerful way," Alexander says. "And I compare him on the level of Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King because he spoke to Third World people who are not the fortunate ones. People in India and Africa -- Bob affected them all. His songs were all so simple but so profound. Every one of them had a hook and a bass line to it that was so 'Bob Marley.' There's hardly a song of his that you hear that doesn't stick to you somehow. With his spiritual convictions and the talent that he had, he just kept on pouring music out of him all these years.
"His influences are many. He comes from all of what is roots Jamaica. Even from this old music form, mento. The old people would be playing these little songs that had that certain rhythm, which is similar to the way you hear most Jamaicans phrase things. But he also heard James Brown and he heard Elvis Presley. He was just a very open guy to what came from the U.S. There's times when he was playing when he did just a scatting thing, where you think he must have heard Charlie Parker."
Alexander, too, kept his ears open, from his days as a toddler when he picked out tunes on his mother's mostly unused piano. Later, at age nine, he played accordion with calypso bands. Along the way he heard Fats Domino, Little Richard, and Elvis Presley on Miami and New Orleans AM radio stations and developed a jazz jones after checking out Louis Armstrong and Nat King Cole via records and at local concerts.
By the age of fourteen, Alexander was forsaking academics in favor of real-life experience as a studio musician, backing the likes of Desmond Dekker with a talented group of Kingston players, several of whom would go on to form the Skatalites.
"I wanted to be where the other musicians were, and hang out," he recounts. "To do so, I would cut class, and make sure nobody knew I was missing. I would hop the bus to go five miles down to the recording studio. I never got in trouble, thankfully, but I was sneaking out of school on a regular basis."
Alexander, with his mother and younger brother, left for Miami before graduating from high school, and spent his first weeks here hanging out at a now-legendary South Beach boxing gym on Fifth Street (the place has since been demolished), watching Muhammad Ali train. Although underage, he found his way into a number of late-night clubs in Miami and Miami Beach, eventually sitting in at the piano and joining the musicians union. "I wasn't legally able to work in the bars, but I was playing in some pretty hot joints, around gangsters and hookers," he says. "Ira Sullivan came to Florida just about that time. He spawned a great love for jazz in me. He was like a pied piper."