EVERYTHING’S POLITICAL PODCAST — FIRESIDE TRANSCRIPT Episode: The Power of Music (Express Newark) Host: Junius Williams Guests: Stefon Harris, Jason Moran Location: Express Newark, Rutgers University–Newark (Newark, NJ) ________________ OPEN (Music + Intro Reflections) Jason Moran: Age 13 is when I heard Thelonious Monk, and that became really pivotal. Because he seemed to make the piano— even though I’d been “studying” it for six or seven years—feel like I didn’t know anything about it. I couldn’t get those sounds out of the piano. Brahms, Mozart, Bach… all that, okay. But what Monk is playing—how come I can’t find that sound? And from that point on, no one ever had to tell me to practice. The best resource I could ever have was music—just diving into music, diving into the history of it. From then on, I was… to a degree, I was saved. Junius Williams: I would add to that—listening to you talk, I remember that feeling too as a kid. You take a class—math or something—you can solve the problem and get the correct answer. But through music, there was never a correct answer. You could just keep pushing yourself constantly. It was a platform for self-discovery that other subjects didn’t provide. Like you, no one ever had to tell me to practice. It was all day, as much as I possibly could. Stefon Harris: Yes, sir. It’s okay. Amen. Amen. ________________ WELCOME + SETTING Junius Williams: (~1:25) All right. And here we are. My name is Junius Williams. I’m your host on the Everything’s Political Podcast, and we’ve got a real special show for you today. First of all, look at our new surroundings—this is Express Newark. Newark, New Jersey. Rutgers University–Newark. I’m telling you, if you ain’t been here, you ain’t been nowhere. We’re talking about the power of music in this series—this is Series Six. And today you’re going to see what the power of music has presented through two incredible artists. First, Stefon Harris—co-director of Express Newark and tenured professor here at Rutgers University. Four-time Grammy nominee, Doris Duke Artist Award winner, and creator of a musical app called Harmony Cloud, which we’ll get into. And also—understated is the word—Jason Moran: pianist, artist, educator. A MacArthur Fellow. Former Director of Jazz at the Kennedy Center, and on the faculty of the New England Conservatory in Boston. Anything I said doesn’t say enough about them. You’re going to hear them play a little bit—but I’m just glad to have you. Thank you for being here. Jason Moran: It’s a pleasure. Thank you, brother. Stefon Harris: Thank you, sir. ________________ STEFON’S BACKGROUND + FAMILY LEGACY Junius Williams: (~4:22) So let’s start with Stefon. Where are you from originally? Stefon Harris: I’m originally from upstate New York—from Albany. Fantastic place to grow up. There wasn’t a lot of jazz—actually I’m not sure if there was any jazz—but there was a lot of great classical music. My mother is a Pentecostal minister, so I grew up in the Black church. I had exposure to the blues, art, soul—everything I needed to nurture my soul. Junius Williams: And you told me about your grandfather—Peewee Harris. Stefon Harris: (~4:52) That’s right. My grandfather, Peewee Harris—one of the first African-American DJs to run a radio station in the United States. He booked the Chitlin’ Circuit. People like Sam Cooke would come by his house and hang out. He booked John Coltrane, James Brown. There’s something in the blood that I didn’t even know a lot about as a child, but I felt it. ________________ HOW STEFON STARTED PLAYING Junius Williams: (~5:23) Tell us about your musical history. How did you get introduced? Stefon Harris: It’s kind of random. We moved into an apartment and someone left an old beat-up piano behind. Inside the bench were a couple of kids’ books. I was about six years old. I took them out and saw an arrow pointing to a white note under two black keys—it said “C.” I kept picking at it and ended up teaching myself how to read music. By the time I went to elementary school, I could already read music. I played piano for the citywide chorus. And because I could read music, teachers kept giving me instruments—clarinet, sousaphone, trombone in marching band, string bass in orchestra. I played basically all the band instruments. I think I played like 25 instruments by the time I graduated high school. I just couldn’t get enough of it. Junius Williams: How did that make your mother feel? Stefon Harris: Probably drove her crazy with all that music in the house. She was proud of me, but once I started learning about jazz, the religious thing kicked in—thinking about blues and jazz not being “religious music.” There was some conflict. But her love and support always came through. She encouraged me to dream big. ________________ JASON’S BACKGROUND + “MONK CHANGED EVERYTHING” Junius Williams: (~7:09) Jason—what’s your backstory? Jason Moran: I went to a magnet elementary school where everybody had to play an instrument. It was in Houston, Texas—McGregor Elementary. I started on violin. My mother put my brothers and me in Suzuki lessons. We had to grade ourselves on our practicing—good, excellent, mediocre—on a chart my mother made. It made practicing a chore. I didn’t like it. But at age 13, I heard Thelonious Monk—and that became pivotal. Monk made the piano feel like I didn’t know anything. I couldn’t get those sounds. And from then on, no one ever had to tell me to practice. Music—diving into music and its history—saved me. ________________ WHY PRACTICE BECOMES A LIFE SKILL Junius Williams: (~9:39) How did the act of practice add to your life going forward? Jason Moran: You do get better if you practice—but you’ll never be perfect. It’s a goal you’ll never fully meet, but you can get closer. The thing we really practice is what happens when we meet each other in rehearsal—what does the thing you practiced alone sound like when it comes together? Music is a community music—it relies on community. The health of it depends on the community that listens. And practicing helps you understand what you want to improve. That becomes a life skill far beyond music. Stefon Harris: There’s also a distinction: some people go into a practice room and they play—which is not the same as practicing. When I started wrestling, I discovered the value of practicing. Wrestling is one-on-one. You get your butt kicked—no one else to blame. So you ask: what are you going to do about it? Run the extra mile? Do extra push-ups? More time in the gym? That taught me the value of doing the work. Practicing became meditative for me. It’s not labor. There’s a vision—I know where I’m trying to go—and every day I practice, I’m one step closer. I’m grateful. ________________ JUNIUS CONNECTS MUSIC + PRACTICING LAW Junius Williams: (~12:26) How is it for you—practicing law? Where’s the practice for you? Junius Williams: My father told me: if you want to go out and play sports, you have to practice music 30 minutes a day. My brother and I wrestled with that, but we did it—and got better. Sometimes we practiced until it got too dark to go outside, but we didn’t miss it because we were improving. Same with law: you read the extra case, find the extra case, talk to someone who’s been doing it. You learn the law in school, but you learn how to practice law by going the extra mile. The discipline came from music. ________________ WHEN DID THEY KNOW MUSIC WAS THE PATH? Junius Williams: (~14:05) At one point, you guys realized you were super good. When did you decide music was what you’d dedicate your life to? Stefon Harris: I think of music as a pathway that unlocked other potentials in me. Early on, I won a concerto competition, toured Europe, studied with a genius teacher, got scholarships. But over time, I realized music teaches lessons about manhood, being kind, being in community. These messages are embedded in the DNA of the art form. I love music, I still play, but I wouldn’t define myself only as a musician at this point. Jason Moran: In Houston, I wondered: can you make a living from it? How do you raise a family? My parents weren’t artists. That was frightening. But at Manhattan School of Music, being around a community of people just as enthusiastic as I was—chasing sound, not security—made it feel possible. In America, it’s rare to hear: “Just go for it.” We were looking for sound. The validation came from community. If somebody you respected said, “Yeah, you sound alright tonight,” then you were professional. Not because you got paid. Stefon Harris: I tell students: protect your love of music from commerce. That joy matters. Even through the pandemic, I still woke up, went to the piano, and felt gratitude. This isn’t just about becoming a musician. It’s about being present, still, steeped in empathy and listening. That’s why I love being a teacher. ________________ WHEN THE BLUES MET THEM Junius Williams: (~18:32) When did the blues meet you? Jason Moran: My father’s cousin Tony Loren lived in Chicago. He and his brother played in Albert King’s band. When Albert King came to Houston, they’d come by the house, drink all the vodka in the freezer, then go to the piano and play. Tony looked like he was having fun—he was in it. I wanted to feel that. That’s when I met the blues—through family. I listened to Albert King, John Lee Hooker… That’s the sound my family loved. Junius Williams: Some people listening may not know what the blues is. Give us a little illustration. Jason Moran: You should just go play a John Lee Hooker record. But I’ll try. (plays) The blues is about the one—the root. You have to face yourself over and over. You can’t hide. It says: this is the one, and you come back home over and over. I can go to the four… I can go to the five—that’s the top of the mountain before I roll back down. Now I’m back home. That’s what makes the blues humbling. You never act like home doesn’t exist. Junius Williams: Tell us about your blues introduction, Stefon. Stefon Harris: (~23:36) My first interaction with the blues was in church. Watching someone stand up to testify—telling a story—and then the musicians come in. Nobody knows the key, but the chords appear. The purpose of the blues is storytelling. The music amplifies the emotional depth. It’s service—so all of us can be seen and heard. ________________ LIVE DEMOS (CALL & RESPONSE / “IN-BETWEEN NOTES” / DOMINANT 7) Junius Williams: (~25:22) Can you demonstrate that church story? Stefon Harris: When someone speaks, they aren’t thinking about rhythm. You can take speech and turn it into melody. You start at home, walk away from home, but you come back home. (plays vibraphone; call-and-response feel) Junius Williams: That was beautiful. Now both of you talked about those chords—home, four, five, and back home. Stefon Harris: Part of what’s fascinating with the blues is you’re coming from field hollers, spirituals, moans—then playing western instruments. We try to play “in-between” the notes, bend toward the note, make it sound more human. That’s at the heart of practicing—making the instrument sing the story in your heart. How do I choose notes? Jazz adds embellishment—above the note, below the note, walking back to it—slipping and sliding. Blues centers on the individual’s story. Jazz happens in real time in community. I work on my ear so I can react to what’s happening around me and contribute. Junius Williams: (~31:19) Talk to us about the dominant seventh. Stefon Harris: Most chords start as triads—three notes, not much tension. Blues needs tension. Add one more note—then lower it—and you get the dominant seven. Western harmony says you can’t sit on it—it wants to resolve. But blues lives in that tension. (plays; joins with Jason; performance continues) ________________ HARMONY CLOUD APP (STEFON) Junius Williams: (~37:54) Stefon has taken it another step further—he’s been working on an app. Tell us about it. Stefon Harris: The app is called Harmony Cloud. My dream is empowerment. I’ve accepted that artistry can live in service to other people. I taught ear training—students would say, “We get better in class. How do we practice on our own?” I used to tell them they needed a community—get together and test each other. That wasn’t a good enough answer. So I explored: what if I could download what’s in my head—how I play chords, improvise—and teach software to improvise chords so people can challenge themselves alone? I released Harmony Cloud about a month ago. It has over 700 chords—13s, sharp 9s—most chords in western harmony. The algorithm can improvise. Now someone can practice at home alone and practice vulnerability—because there’s another entity in the room throwing surprises. Then when you get on the bandstand, you’re ready. And bigger picture: in academia, it’s like they let the music into the academy—but didn’t let the people in. The feeling of the blues, testifying—that wasn’t taught. I want core cultural values included: empathy, listening, humility, and empowerment. ________________ CLOSING Junius Williams: (~41:16) Stefon Harris. Jason Moran. I’m Junius Williams. This has been a great service toward understanding how music empowers you to be somebody—and to move mountains. If you don’t do anything else, do one thing: be political. Go somewhere and be political. One more thing—if you’ve got time, go get this app. Don’t think you don’t know what you can do with it. It’ll take you to the next step, and I assure you, it’ll be a whole lot of enjoyment. Thank you guys. Jason Moran: Much respect. Stefon Harris: Such a pleasure. ________________ OUTRO + CREDITS Junius Williams: (~43:01) Everything’s Political Podcast is sponsored by the Center for Education and Juvenile Justice and supported by the Terrell Foundation, PSEG Foundation, the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, and listeners like you. Produced by me, Junius Williams, and Dreamplay Media. Recorded in Newark, New Jersey. Theme music by Anthony Ant Jackson. Check out earlier episodes and subscribe on YouTube, Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts. Follow us on Facebook and Instagram. See you next time—and remember: Stay political.