Music — December 3, 2013 14:02 — 0 Comments

One Super Important Question For D’Vonne Lewis

After reading Aham’s description of Industrial Revelation’s genesis we wanted to add band leader D’Vonne Lewis’s voice to the conversation by asking him One Super Important Question. So, D’Vonne, how, in your mind, did the band form those handful of years ago when you were a young drummer? 

D’Vonne Lewis: Industrial Revelation began from a vision I had and a connection I felt to my grandfather, organist Dave Lewis, and his influence on me through the stories from my grandmother, Beverly Washington. When I was 19, I was playing around town and living with her. We would always talk. She encouraged me; she told me that I was young and should start my own band and started sharing more with me about my grandfather. He’d played everywhere in town, all styles. My grandfather passed away in ‘98 and it was at his funeral that I first learned that he was a big time musician, but I didn’t get the inside scoop until I lived with my grandma.

I want to stress that I don’t think it’s coincidence that my grandfather and I had the same vision. I can’t really say that it’s because of him that I was inspired, but realizing that he did his own thing too, that inspired me. He inspired so many people and I want to keep that inspiration going. I think it’s a cool thing, so I want people to understand that. To me, it’s something spiritual.

I got my first drum set when I was eight and started playing gigs when I was 15, starting at the Honeybear Bakery, where I was working at the time. As time wore on, I was gigging more and playing a lot of different styles of music — jazz, funk, hip-hop, etc. Because I would always add my own flavor, even if it was straight ahead jazz, people told me I stood out and would always ask me if I had my own band. I didn’t.

Then I really started thinking about it: maybe I should start my own band — not as any kind of ego thing, but why not? I was playing straight ahead jazz, but I wanted to go other places. I would do that by myself, but I didn’t want to do it by myself only. Why couldn’t guys in these other bands hear what I was trying to do?

When I was 16, I played with Evan Flory-Barnes at a jam session in Port Townsend. We played one tune together and had a connection instantly. Afterwards we would see each other, sometimes he would come down to one of my gigs, and we would always say, “We gotta do something some day”. I met Aham Oluo back in high school when he was at Mountlake Terrace and I went to Roosevelt. We saw each other at high school jazz festivals and then he called me one day, asking if I would do a Starbucks gig with him. I did the gig and it was great. Aham is a little bit older than I am, and eventually he got married, had kids and quit playing music. I always loved his sound, but it was also that we were two of few young black musicians playing jazz in this town and that was special. Because of all the gigging I did around town, eventually I ended up playing with a lot of Cornish professors. That’s how I met Josh Rawlings: he was going to school there and then we ended up on a gig together. I loved his style. He’s just crazy.

In the back of my head, I thought of those guys as stand out musicians — Evan, Aham, Josh — but we never really played together. Then, back at my grandmother’s house, she’s telling me about how my grandfather played everything and I was thinking about those three and how much I like the way they play. I wanted to start this band, but I just didn’t know how we would really do it. Did they write music? Are we just going to play jazz standards, but kind of funk them up?

In 2005, I was playing a jazz gig and Aham sat in. On the blues number, Aham and I synced up  — he went with me, and I went with him. It was then we decided we had to get something going. We invited Evan and then Josh, who said we could use rehearsal space at Cornish.  For our first jam session, we all presented original tunes. The styles everyone shared were what I wanted to play: a little bit of everything. It was jazz mixed with soul mixed with funk. We had a good time vibing and everyone got back in tune with each other. Aham and Evan knew each other before, but I don’t think Evan and Josh really did. Nonetheless, we all played perfectly together and then we hung out afterward. It was cool.

It just felt so good and I went home and told my grandma, “I think I got the guys.” She and I talked more about music in Seattle and how she and her girlfriends used to go dancing and listen to music at packed clubs. I was thinking that we could do that. I learned from my grandmother and great uncle (Grandpa’s brother), who owned The Paramount in the ‘80s, that my Grandfather was pretty big and that spurred me to really want to do something like that. It was a good kind of pressure. (I’d also gotten inspiration when I was in the 4th grade to play the drums as an occupation from seeing a photograph of my dad on the drum set. I didn’t know he played the drums before I’d seen that photo).

IR isn’t just some band that formed. We all did this together, but it grew out of my vision for music inspired by my grandmother and grandfather, even before we all played together. It’s because of these guys that I’m able to do it. I like what we have. It can’t be redone.

 

Industrial Revelation plays The Monarch #3 Release Party December 12th. IR will also be performing at the Langston Hughes Cultural Arts Institute on 12/7, 8pm, for the tribute show to D’Vonne’s grandfather.

Bio:

Jake Uitti is a founding editor of The Monarch Review.

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The answer isn't poetry, but rather language

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