- Okay, as we wrap up Jazz Appreciation Month, we are shining a spotlight on the most recorded jazz bassist in history, Ron Carter.

The Detroit area native turns 88 years old on May 4th, and he is celebrating with six days of performances at the Blue Note in New York.

"American Black Journal" contributor, Cecilia Sharp of 90.9 WRCJ, spoke with Carter about his legendary career.

(soulful bass music) - So you started playing the cello at the age of 10, and then switched to bass at Cass Tech High School, and you were classically trained throughout that time, and all the way during your time at Eastman, and you transitioned to jazz.

What made you transition to jazz?

- I started about 12, playing the cello.

I was a cellist for a really long time, and I was a cellist until my senior year at Cass Tech.

And I noticed that two things were happening, Ms.

Sharp, one, when the PTA meetings and teacher faculty meetings would have meetings, conventions, people would go around to the Detroit School Music Department to pick out some music ensembles to forth, what we call wallpaper music, during these conventions.

You know, as an African American kid, I never got those offers, and I thought I played good as everybody else.

And I was very good at math.

I looked around one day, and the bass player in the orchestra was graduating, and if he left, there'd be no bass player.

(Cecilia laughs) And my auditioner said okay, well no one left but me, playing the bass, then they'll have to call me.

And so Eastman School of Music was having auditions at this time for incoming freshman students for the coming fall term, and I got a chance to audition as a bass player, and he decided that I was a good candidate to get a scholarship to go to Eastman as a bass player.

So my classical training went from Cass Tech, underrepresented of person of color, to Eastman School of Music with a better odds of getting chance play music I had been studying all my life as a classical player.

And as I'm at Eastman third year, fourth year, I'm still getting better and better instrument.

I'm realizing I'm feeling the same kind of draft, and that's to say that they post notices on the bulletin board, but they've never explained to the people of color what that really meant for them as far as jobs, auditions here, and auditions here, and they didn't really encourage us to investigate the bulletin boards, you know?

And now I'm playing in the local jazz band, so I was having the chance to play opposite roots and great bass players, Ike Isaacs, with Carmen McRae, and Sam Jones with Canon Ball, and Teddy Kotick with Horse Silver, some really good players who encouraged me, and said, "You seem to have a good idea about the bass.

You should come to New York when you graduate."

And I turned the page and these guys from New York said, "Hey man, there's work in New York.

You can play the bass in New York.

Don't be stuck.

Come on to New York and join us."

- So you found the encouragement from other people, and it brought you into jazz.

- Correctly, yes.

- Now, I noticed on your first two recordings, you were playing quite a bit of cello.

Was it the style of music that was being played, or was it your desire to continue to incorporate the cello that caused you to record on the cello as well?

- I just thought I had enough experience to play the instrument.

I didn't know if I could make a record on it, 'cause playing is one thing, but to go into the studio and play the same instrument with another environment, with the pressure, and the limited space, and the limited time, and these wonderful players who are already more experienced than I am, it's a whole nother kettle of fish.

Am I a big fish in a small pond or can I go with the sharks?

And these guys are the sharks, (laughs) you know?

- And you wanna test out to see if you can swim with the sharks.

- I went to school with these guys.

Yeah, they gave me a lesson every night.

There's another page in the book of how to get better doing this.

Yes.

- We know that you worked with Miles Davis and Cannonball Adderley, but you were also working with artists like Roberta Flack, Gil Scott-Heron on "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised."

You worked with Black Star, you worked with a tribe, called Quest.

What is the importance to you of staying versatile as an artist and collaborating with various artists?

- Ms.

Sharp, I've always been surprised when my name ends up in the same barrel as all these other bass players.

Certain artists in this industry look for something that makes their music do something other than what they can conceive of.

Who is gonna be the special pepper in this sauce?

Who has the right wine for this meal?

My name has come to the top several times that they feel that my input, however they would define it, it's what their special sauce for this record is backed on track for this baseline needs to make their product do.

They can only imagine this.

- Only with the Ron Carter sauce.

- Yes.

(laughs) - Can't bottle it.

Can't even bottle it.

- No, one of a kind.

- I heard in another conversation, I interpret it as you talking about the value of saying no, the power of saying no.

- Yes.

- And understanding your value and your worth.

Can you speak to that, not only as a musician, but to any individual who is watching, understanding the power of saying no, as it relates to your value?

- I think two things gotta be on the table, Ms.

Sharp, one, this person in question has to have a set of values.

He has to believe in some things that are in his favor.

And once he convinces himself that they're so important to his being, and nothing's gonna change him from this concept of what he's responsible for, those two letters control his career, N-O.

You know, years ago, and it's still not that far back, clubs, when they hire a band for a week, and then in the restaurant, you know, they have a special menu for the band.

You know, I'm not sure if you're familiar with that, but they have a menu for the audience, and someone in one day this gig, and I had worked all day making records.

I was in school, whatever I was, and I asked for something to eat, and the guy said, "We got a special menu for you guys."

I said, "Oh, wow.

what is that?"

He didn't answer, but it had to give me a different menu.

I said, "Wait a minute, where's the menu that the people have?"

You know, "I'm equal to that.

I need that kind of nourishment."

He said, "Well, you know, the policy of the club is, it gives you menu," I said, "No, no, man, that's your policy, that's not mine.

I wanna eat the same kind of quality of food that they just think the customer is well worthy of, and evidently, some of the things that I'm not worth that.

Well, no, no menu, no music, goodnight."

And I kind of accepted that view as that's my view of knowing when no is critical to my viewing of my survival and what I think I need to be able to make my presence not just necessary, but physically capable of doing the job I'm being hired to do.

- Do you have any advice for people on building that confidence to say no?

- I think, Ms.

Sharp, I think what they have to do is what really feels good to them when they see them in the mirror.

I think they have to understand that they're representing their view to a bunch of strangers every night.

People see them walk on the stage as a guy holding an instrument.

They have no idea what this person's values are once they stop playing.

I want these people to know that I am somebody.

I'm playing the bass two shows a night.

That's for like the hour and a half.

But for the other 21 hours of the day, I got something else going on up here that I'm responsible for, and I'm not playing the bass.

Look at what else I do.

What else am I in favor of, and what else can I say no to and feel okay?