An insightful exploration into the multifaceted world of a guitar virtuoso who redefined American sound.
Bill Frisell, a name often whispered with reverence among musicians and discerning listeners, defies easy categorization. While initially recognized within jazz circles, labeling him solely as a jazz guitarist feels increasingly reductive. As noted in an August 2020 article highlighting acoustic guitar innovators, Frisell stands as a “wild card,” a testament to his genre-blurring artistry. He transcends conventional boundaries, proving that music’s true measure lies in its quality, not its confinement to rigid stylistic boxes. My earlier assessment captured this evolving essence:
“Frisell is perhaps better known as a jazz player and a prolific guitar polymath, playing in many styles and settings. He has made by my count 39 albums, featured on countless others and initially was something of an in-house player for ECM records. From 1980 on he has focussed more on folk, country music and Americana – always convincingly.”
Reflecting on this, the shift towards “folk, country music, and Americana” in Frisell’s vast discography is more accurately placed within the last two decades, marked significantly by his seminal 1997 release, ‘Nashville’. This album title itself served as a clear indication of his broadening musical horizons.
Therefore, the arrival of ‘Bill Frisell – the Guitarist Who Changed the Sound of American Music’ for review felt somewhat validating. However, the book’s bold subtitle, while attention-grabbing, prompts a degree of skepticism. The book, much like its ambitious title, occasionally veers into hyperbole, showering Frisell with praise that at times feels excessive. One suspects that Frisell himself, known for his unassuming nature, might find such effusive accolades somewhat uncomfortable. Perhaps, the true beauty of Frisell’s musical journey is not in grandiose pronouncements, but in the subtle, dreamlike landscapes he crafts with his guitar – a “beautiful dreamer” in the realm of sound.
Philip Watson, the author, brings a distinct journalistic background to this biography. His experience as a deputy editor at GQ and ‘editor at large’ at Esquire, coupled with appearances on UK and Irish radio and television, and contributions to reputable newspapers, shapes his writing style. This debut full-length book exhibits a slightly polished, almost glossy quality, evident in Watson’s detailed descriptions of interviewees’ appearances, attire, and demeanor. This stylistic choice is neither inherently positive nor negative, but rather a noticeable characteristic of the author’s approach. Crucially, Watson’s genuine admiration for Frisell shines through, fostering a sense of rapport between author and subject throughout the narrative.
Watson encapsulates Frisell’s remarkable 45-year career by stating:
“Growing up playing clarinet in orchestras and marching bands, Frisell has progressed through a remarkable range of musical personas – from devotee of jazz master Jim Hall (as hard to categorize and as experimental as Frisell in his own way) to house guitarist of estimable German label ECM, from edgy New York downtown experimentalist (alongside such as John Zorn ) to plaintive country and bluegrass picker. He has been a prolific composer and arranger and a celebrated Grammy Award Winner’. (I’d add, more recently, multimedia artist, to that impressive list).”
For those primarily drawn to Frisell’s forays into “plaintive country and bluegrass,” page 258 onwards offers a focused exploration of this facet of his career. Setting the stage for this stylistic shift, Jerry Douglas aptly observes, “Bluegrass and Jazz are very compatible because they are both very improvisational musics.” This highlights the underlying improvisational spirit that bridges seemingly disparate genres in Frisell’s musical universe.
Prior to delving into his Americana explorations, the book paints a portrait of Frisell as a genuinely affable individual. Anecdotes reveal a man of calm demeanor, mirroring the spaciousness in his music, yet possessing a quiet resolve. The narrative hints at a “musical Clark Kent” persona – someone who appears unassuming but harbors extraordinary musical capabilities. His upbringing within a comfortable, academic household and enduring, happy marriage further contribute to this image of grounded stability, a stark contrast perhaps to the often turbulent narratives associated with artistic genius.
When Watson initially approached Frisell about the biography, the guitarist’s characteristic modesty surfaced. “But what will you write about?” he questioned, adding, “I mean there haven’t been any fights or anything (and he did play with Ginger Baker for goodness sake!). And all I’ve done is stay married to the same woman for the past thirty-five years.” This self-deprecating humor underscores the book’s central challenge: Frisell’s life, devoid of sensationalism, presents a different kind of biographical subject. His parents’ peaceful passing and a harmonious marital life offer little in the way of dramatic conflict. However, this very normalcy becomes a compelling aspect of the story, suggesting that extraordinary artistry can flourish within a framework of ordinary life.
The book dedicates its initial chapters to Frisell’s formative years in jazz, urging readers to explore this foundational period to fully grasp his artistic trajectory. Even for those unfamiliar with Frisell, this section offers a valuable introduction to a realm of exceptional music. Throughout the book, a chorus of musicians offers praise, sometimes bordering on excessive adulation. While these testimonials highlight Frisell’s widespread respect, their sheer volume can become somewhat repetitive. Despite the overwhelmingly positive tone, the core message remains clear: Frisell is a remarkable musician, a genuinely nice person, and a relentless explorer of musical territories. He is not a mythical figure, but a dedicated artist constantly pushing his own boundaries.
One innovative approach Watson employs is the inclusion of “listening sessions” or “counterpoints.” He played Frisell’s albums to various musicians and personalities, recording their ensuing conversations, which span several pages. These sessions feature a diverse roster of individuals, including Hal Willner, Justin Vernon, Paul Simon, Gavin Bryars, Sam Amidon, Van Dyke Parks, Gus Van Sant, and Rhiannon Giddens. This eclectic list itself speaks to Frisell’s wide-ranging appeal and influence. The conversation with Paul Simon stands out, offering insightful perspectives from a fellow musical boundary-crosser. In contrast, Rhiannon Giddens, less familiar with Frisell’s work, offers a more critical perspective, even deeming “Where Have All the Flowers Gone” – a song Frisell covered – as “cheesy.” This inclusion of varied opinions adds depth and avoids hagiography. Frisell’s artistic freedom sometimes leads to criticism regarding “bland nostalgia trips,” a point seemingly connected to his aforementioned “fuck yous” to a heckler – a rare outburst defending his artistic choices. Watson contextualizes Frisell’s diverse tastes by referencing Sonny Rollins’ ‘Way out West’ and Gary Burton’s ‘Tennessee Firebird’ as successful early examples of jazz incorporating country music influences.
Bill Frisell performing live, showcasing his signature guitar style and the emotive depth he brings to his music.
Further solidifying Frisell’s Americana connections are his collaborations with Irish musicians Martin Hayes and Dennis Cahill, who feature in a “listening session” discussing ‘The Willies’ album. Frisell’s appearances at festivals in western Ireland and performances with Hayes, Cahill, and similar artists underscore his engagement with roots-based musical traditions beyond American borders.
The book’s structure largely follows a chronological album-by-album review format, incorporating commentary from collaborators. While chronologically sound and potentially useful for reference, this structure can occasionally feel somewhat list-like. Frisell’s extensive collaborations and diverse projects, while commendable, can become challenging to track. He often juggles multiple ensembles, each dedicated to different facets of his musical personality. Beyond his leadership roles, Frisell’s reputation as a sought-after sideman is evident, with his schedule undoubtedly packed.
Other recurring themes include Frisell’s guitar choices – the apocryphal “n+1” rule for guitar ownership – and his preferred sources, such as Carmine Street Guitars in New York. The book even touches upon the role of a slightly “floppy neck” guitar in shaping his signature sound, highlighting the serendipitous elements that can contribute to an artist’s unique voice. His pioneering use of effects and tape loops is also explored, including an anecdote about losing them in transit, leading him to realize their potential limitations. The narrative progresses to cover his later career as a composer for multimedia events and exhibitions, further illustrating his continuous evolution and prolific output.
“Shenandoah,” a Frisell signature tune featured on ‘Good Dog, Happy Man’, serves as a thematic thread, connecting to subsequent albums like ‘Nashville’ (ironically awarded Downbeat’s Jazz Album of the Year), ‘Gone, Just Like a Train’, ‘The Willies’, and ‘The Intercontinentals’ (a foray into world music). These albums hold particular relevance for Americana enthusiasts. Key collaborators mentioned include bassist Viktor Krause, Danny Barnes (banjo/guitar), Greg Leisz (pedal steel/guitars), and jazz drummer Paul Motian. His collaborations extend to Eliza Carthy, and connections are drawn between Frisell, Lucinda Williams, and saxophonist Charles Lloyd. His extensive list of collaborators includes Paul Simon, Bonnie Raitt, Loudon Wainwright III, Rickie Lee Jones, and Ry Cooder, showcasing his genre-blind musical appetite. His repertoire spans the Carter Family to John McLaughlin and George Gershwin, truly making the musical world his oyster.
The internet provides ample resources to further explore Frisell’s music and hear him speak. The silences in his music, a defining characteristic, mirror the pauses in his speech, often noted in the book, portraying him as more comfortable expressing himself through his instrument than through words. This inherent modesty contributes to his somewhat elusive persona. He often appears hunched over his guitar, a sonic scientist, seemingly reluctant to occupy the spotlight. These traits, while endearing, present a challenge for a biographer seeking to fully capture the essence of the man.
Bill Frisell: Beautiful Dreamer offers a comprehensive retrospective of a remarkable career, providing valuable insights for music lovers. While potentially categorized as a jazz biography, its exploration of Frisell’s Americana and roots music explorations broadens its appeal. For Americana fans seeking new musical pathways and unconventional genre interpretations, Frisell’s work offers a compelling journey. Ultimately, Frisell’s story underscores the futility of rigid musical categorization, a sentiment shared by the artist and his peers. Elvis Costello succinctly captures Frisell’s essence, defining him as an American folk musician – “That is, he works with all the music made by American Folk.” This expansive definition encapsulates the beautiful dream that is Bill Frisell’s musical universe.