About me

I have not had much musical education. I went to a guitar course in my early teens, and liked it. However, my friends at that time were not much into music, so I didn't have anyone to play with. Later, at a party held by a schoolmate, I tried his brother’s tenor sax. That was exciting!

My big brother played different instruments in the school band. In addition to percussion, he later used the flute and the alto saxophone. He joined a couple of rock band horn sections. But then, as he went abroad for university, he realized that he would not be able to practice and decided to sell the horn. He said: «If you want it, you may have it cheaper, but then I don’t know why you should need it».

Siblings may be harsh. Anyway, through him and his friend (later to become the founder of MaiJazz, the international jazz festival in Stavanger, Norway) I regularly was fed with exciting music. Like always I was interested in any kind of music in any format and style.

I bought my brother’s horn. Then I went to a music store and bought a little booklet about playing saxophone, showing where to put your fingers to manage all the notes. Sax is a noisy instrument, and I was not so ambitious and systematic, so I improved quite slowly. However, teenagers tend to fall deeply into darkness when close relationships are broken, they are fairly new to the ups and downs in life. I was no exception. When I was sad, I took to the sax, and it gave me comfort. I realized how important music is.

As I went north to join the army for a year, I took my horn with me. Before leaving home, I had fallen in love again. Playing the horn gave me comfort when longing for my girl. I went down to the basement of the barracks for rehearsals now and then. I also went to jam with some fellow soldiers. Slowly I got better at playing.

After the army, it was time for jamming at houseparties, flipping out and smoking weed. Luckily weeds were abandoned at an early stage, or I'd never improve. My best friend and I were playing in a dance band, but we also went to jazz festivals, listening to amazing musicians.

Then came some years of political involvement and living with a nice girl. But as love came to an end, I took on the sax again for comfort. This time I was more grown up, systematic and organized and did leaps forward in my stride to sound good. But despite buying a new Selmer Super Action alto I never got to sound like Cannonball Adderly, my favourite at that time. I had a tendency to overblow, I knew little about mouthpieces, reed strength and gear in general.

Love came around again, this time with an american girl who knew some great musicians playing with world known artists. I wanted a tenor sax, and her friends found a used Conn Tenor 10 M «Naked lady» in perfect shape in a shop in New York. Her parents brought it to Norway. This horn made my day, at last I had the sound I was urging for, and practising became more fun.

Back in the 50s, there were two dominant valve lever systems for the pinky finger. The system used by Selmer was after a while established as the industry standard, for good reasons. The Conn on the other hand required long movements. Busy fingerwork created much noise. The first time I tried a Selmer I was hooked. I could play fast at ease.

One day I came over an advertisement in a newspaper, put there by someone who had a Selmer tenor for sale, and I decided to take pay a visit. This guy was a farmer, once having lived in the US for a couple of years. He had no use for his horn anymore, because family and farming took all his time. Now this Selmer Mark VI from the sixties was lying there on the floor in an open case in the hens’ house. They had ripped the case almost to pieces, and the horn was buried in shit. I got it cheap. Then I gave it a bath and took it to someone who did repairs for school bands, and had it overhauled. He used pads from here and there, but when I had the horn back I had never sounded better.

During the eighties I had the Musician Magazine sent over from the US each month, and there, through interviews, I got insights about reeds and mouthpieces. Also, whenever I ran into some player with a clue, I asked them about equipment. I even asked Jan Garbarek once I met him between sets on a concert.

Then I wrote a letter to a music store in New York to sell me reeds and mouthpieces I could not easily get from local dealers, based on my new knowledge. As I always have had a tendency to overblow, and because I had to be heard in noisy rock bands, I chose a rather open mouthpiece, an Otto Link number 7, and Rico 3 reeds. After a couple of years I switched to Otto Link number 9 and Rico 3.5 reeds. Manny’s Music in New York was my supplier, the locals in my home town only had what was most usual, soft reeds and tight mouthpieces, making a sax sound like a kazoo or a synth. Dealing through hand written snail mail with US shops was the method, and it actually worked very well. This was before the internet revolution made overseas deals a piece of cake.

As years went by, it became obvious to me that the already old Selmer would be worn out if I kept on playing it excessively as my only horn. I had the Conn 10 M as a spare, but due to different pinky finger lever arrangement switching between them was somewhat tricky. So I started looking for a good Selmer Mark VI copy and save the original as an extra.

A new local instrument dealer had P.Mauriat saxophones, a brand that I had never heard of. I tried it out with my mouthpiece and it responded great, so I ended up buying one and at the same time delivering my Selmer to be serviced and saved as a spare.

Norway is not a densely populated country. Distances between gigs are long, touring is expensive. Niche artists may have trouble making a living unless financially supported by the government or others, at least in the beginning of their career. I had friends who where forced to play any style to earn money and stay available for touring, even music they hated. I made the decision that that was not for me. If prostitution was what it took as well as a low income, any straight job would do better.

Thus I have been a carpenter and builder most of my life, and a musical amateur. That gave me the artistic freedom and economic sustainability I needed. Retirement finally came along, set me free and gave me more time for music. It’s never too late.

Improvement?

I don’t read music. That is, I know the language, but I am unable to play off the sheets like so many others who have some musical education. I already was used to play on the fly, so notes would usually be a digression, or maybe I did not care enough. Of course this is a drawback, but band rehearsals went into my cassette recorder so I could remember horn arrangements and comments. I did not rely on notes for what I played. For someone who loves music, there is always a path through the ordeals of learning arrangements and how to play the instrument.

At an early age I discovered that good music and complicated music are not necessarily the same. Simplicity may overwhelm you. When Miles Davis played just a few notes on his trumpet, they could have more impact on me than when someone ran through lots of notes in a hurry. Intensity and furious playing are also not the same. Silence can be magic and intense too. The emotional span of music is endless, the dynamics have no limits.

Instruments share the same language. Piano and guitar players have influenced me just as much as saxophoners, if not more. Singers have had a major impact. There are so many out there to move you and find their way into your heart, not only the ones who happen to play your instrument. Musicality is about emotions, although some players behave like they are competing in sports. There is a difference between format and content. We must never forget what music basically is about.

Listening to horn sections on records, I realized that I could do what others did, I found myself often functioning well in the context of a song even with my poor technique at the time. Practising to records of my favourite bands became my way of learning. If something sounded bad, there was noone else but myself to blame. Me being out of tune or tempo was revealed on the fly. And more important: I learned when not to play, to swim with the flow, to be a small contributor in something big.

Not going in other musicians’ way made me popular as a «stunt» musician who could be called upon sometimes without further preparation. My drawback as a musical illiterate turned into a strength, as I had to listen to what was played before making any sounds. Practising along records made me able to jump into different settings with ease. Small sax inputs could have a great impact on the overall soundscape. Wayne Shorter knew a lot about «less is more».

Copying your favourite players and jamming along with records and bands may get you going, but developing your own style requires more than that. The tool is keys and scales. Any ambitious musician should practise on doing patterns across the different keys. If you find an interesting figure to play, transfer it all over the range of your instrument. You don’t become a writer of messages without learning how to spell.

This also works the opposite way: You don’t become a writer just because you are brilliant at spelling. If you have no message to put forward, you may just as well keep your mouth shut. Sometimes the perspective of being a spice to the meal can be useful. Spices define much of the dining pleasure despite small presence. If you through your playing add spices to the meal, you might be missed when you are not there.