Name: Jakob Dinesen
Nationality: Danish
Occupation: Saxophonist, composer improviser
Current release: Jakob Dinesen's new album Slow Flow is out now via April.
Recommendations: John Coltrane One up, one down live from half Note - the interplay of Coltrane's band is the highest form of human interaction and expression.
Sonny Rollins: The Bridge - it’s just my desert island record. I love how Sonny and the band play together as one.

If you enjoyed this Jakob Dinesen interview and would like to know more about his music, visit him on Instagram.



Do you think that some of your earliest musical experiences planted a seed for your interest in improvisation?

My parents had a Ben Webster LP that got to me. The sound and feeling of Ben is my first memory of being attracted to jazz. It’s nice to realize that half of the band is Danish.

It was gateway into the whole global world of music that now gives me endless joy.

When did you first consciously start getting interested in musical improvisation? Which artists, teachers, albums or performances involving prominent use of improvisation captured your imagination in the beginning?

Ben Webster: Live in Copenhagen
Miles Davis: Bag’s Groove
Sonny Rollins: The Bridge



Michael Brecker: Michael Brecker
David Sanborn with Marcus Miller: Backstreet



Miles Davis: Star people
Tata Guines: Aniversario
Bassekou Koyate: Segu Blue



Tell me about your instrument and/or tools, please. What made you seek it out, what makes it “your” instrument, and what are some of the most important aspects of playing it?

My saxophone gives me endless joy. It allows me to join a band on stage, a wish that I had from the beginning. I worked hard to get the abilities to a place where I could follow what the band was doing and worked just as hard to work up the courage to get up there.

I immensely enjoy blending in with the band and I’ve been lucky to be part of some amazing bands and musical situations in my life.

How would you describe your own relationship with your instrument – is it an extension of your self/body, a partner and companion, a creative catalyst, a challenge to be overcome, something else entirely?

All of the above. I find the saxophone to be almost human. The horn and the reed is so unpredictable because of the weather, the room, the energy in the room.

Every day the horn has a new sound and feeling that I somehow will try to connect to the situation I’m in. It can be difficult, however, it can also be magical.

Derek Bailey defined improvising as the search for material which is endlessly transformable. What kind of materials have turned to be particularly transformable and stimulating for you?

Great compositions are always a vehicle to improvisation. Anything Wayne Shorter has written and played is a testament to that.

Great sensitive musicians with big ears are what truly gets me and us out there to the beautiful unknown.

All the great  jazz drummers from the beginning to the present. All the amazing drum music from Africa and Cuba has also meant a lot for me.



Do you feel as though there are at least elements of composition and improvisation which are entirely unique to each? Based on your own work or maybe performances or recordings by other artists, do you feel that there are results which could only have happened through one of them?

My recordings with Paul Motian were special.



He was a very special person to be around and his spirit really moved all of us  in ways that are hard to describe in words. His music and playing was poetic but playing with him was also a very physical experience feeling highly transported.

I’m grateful to have met many people like that in America, in Africa, in Cuba and all over the planet.

When you're improvising, does it actually feel like you're inventing something on the spot – or are you inventively re-arranging patterns from preparations, practise or previous performances? What balance is there between forgetting and remembering in your work?

We all work hard to build a language and sometimes find ourselves repeating other people’s language. That’s okay, but I don’t want to try to be someone else.

I have from early on had the feeling of being transported by the music. When it happens I try to let go, and not judge it.

The best way for me is to listen before I talk. See where the other musicians in the band can take me, instead just me going on about my own little self. Great musicians will inspire you, if you let them.

I’m not that afraid of being wrong. I don’t mind being a fool because sometimes it allows real music to happen.

Are you acting out parts of your personality in your improvisations which you couldn't or wouldn't through other musical approaches? If so, which are these? What, would you say, are the key ideas behind your approach to improvisation?

I’m an introvert person, a dreamer.

This life as a saxophonist has taught me to seize the moment, go for my dreams, have no fear. Be part of this life on this planet.

In terms of your personal expression and the experience of performance, how does playing solo compare to group improvisations?

Well, these days I try to see that as the same thing.

In your best improvisations, do you feel a strong sense of personal presence or do you (or your ego) “disappear”?  

I definitely disappear.

In a live situation, decisions between creatives often work without words. From your experience and current projects, what does this process feel like and how does it work?

I recently played a tour with my band featuring Jeff Tain Watts. His presence on the bandstand, in the bus, at the table was intriguing to me. He’s very kind and gentle and didn’t talk much about the actual music we were playing.

However, once  we hit the stage he was being his full unapologetic self, and I truly felt lucky to be part of that music, trying to claim myself and aim for that level of music he was projecting.



Stewart Copeland said: “Listening is where the cool stuff comes from. And that listening thing, magically, turns all of your chops into gold.” What do you listen for?

I try to listen before I talk. I listen for something that gets me going.

That way, magic can happen and if we are  lucky, we can be transported to a better place. Explain it any way you please.

There can be surprising moments during improvisations – from one of the performers not playing a single note to another shaking up a quiet section with an outburst of noise. Have you been part of similar situations and how did they impact the performance from your point of view?

Humans are unpredictable, even predictable humans can be. That’s the exciting part. All you can do is be prepared for anything, anytime.

In my family nothing is predictable to me, and I believe I know them better than anyone else.

I have always been fascinated by the many facets of improvisation but sometimes found it hard to follow them as a listener. Do you have some recommendations for “how to listen” in this regard?

Just go with what makes you feel good. That will take you to where you need to be.

People listen to music for various reasons. To be moved, touched, impressed, agitated for political reasons, to be happy, to feel sexy, to feel loved, to relax.

I appreciate it all, if they do it well and are real. I just don’t like it if the playing gets too intellectual, makes me dry in the mouth.

In a way, improvisations remind us of the transitory nature of life. When an improvisation ends, is it really gone, just like a cup of coffee? Or does it live on in some form?

That’s a spiritual question.

Of course records preserves a lot of golden moments. When real music happens, call it jazz or other music with improvisation and communication, I believe it’s a force of good, and all good things matter .

I have been in situations in Africa,Cuba, Brazil, and all over Asia where this kind of talk is common and not some sort of hippie-talk.