Part 2

A Paradise In The Hold still has many characteristics of jazz, but it plays with and expands on them. As of today, what does the term jazz mean to you?

There are many sub-genres in jazz and hundreds of individual voices who bring their own stories to this ever-evolving music, perhaps more so than ever. To me, jazz is an ancient oak with deep roots, sprouting hundreds of branches. New shoots emerging all the time.

However, I do feel that some artists have lost touch with the essence of jazz, where it springs from, the history and the human struggle at its heart. But of course, there are those who are fully aware of the legacy and highlight social inequality and make protest through their compositions and improvisation.

Saxophonist, Matana Roberts, for example, is a leading light in amplifying this message through the power of jazz.

One of the instantly notable expansions of your sound are the vocal pieces. Since both the voice and the trumpet are inherently connected to the breath – how do you see and feel the connection between your instrument and your voice?

I do see them going hand in hand.

I actually composed many of the vocal lines by singing to myself and then perfecting the melodies on my trumpet. I hope this made the vocal lines feel natural to the singers who recorded on the album
 
What kind of vocalists do you personally prefer and what were some of the criteria for whom to include on A Paradise In The Hold?

I appreciate all kinds of singers, from Björk to Fairuz, or from D’Angelo to Donald Fagin. What I like is authenticity, a feeling that the singer is revealing something of themselves.

When planning the recording I knew I needed to find artists with great passion, a deep musical understanding of many styles and a clarity of tone. I had to convey to them that the written vocal parts were integral to the composition. These are not songs in which the band is just accompanying the singer. All the parts are equally important.

I also enjoy working with vocalists who will surprise me with sounds I would never have imagined. Brigitte Beraha and Randolph Matthews proved to be perfect choices in this regard. At the end of “Mermaids’ Tears” for example, you hear them engaging in an improvised duet where Randolph conjures up sub aquatic sounds of the ocean’s swell whilst Brigitte seems to be channelling some long-lost dolphinesque language of the mermaids.

Your collaboration with Natacha Atlas, herself a wanderer between worlds, is an obvious standout piece on the album. Were you aware of her own cross-cultural projects with artists like Jean-Michel Jarre? What was the recording process to that song like?

I have always been aware of Natacha’s openness to exploring different genres. I first became aware of her work when I performed with Transglobal Underground in 2012 (although she wasn’t involved in that particular project). But it wasn’t until the 2020 pandemic that we started working together.

Natacha and her partner, Samy Bishai, violinist, composer and producer, asked me to play on a few tracks for their EP The Inner and The Outer, where I recorded my contributions at my home studio. Instead of paying me a session fee, we agreed on a swap, which I thought was very generous of them. This came at the perfect time too – I still needed to record the missing vocal lines from my new album and hadn’t booked anyone yet. This felt like a really significant moment.

Samy and Natacha recorded the tracks at their home in France and were kind enough to help with my Arabic translations – some of the words didn’t scan perfectly due to the complex pronunciation of the text. This they remedied by finding alternative words to use here and there, which still hold the same meaning as my original stanzas.

The title track, released as the first single off the album, is astounding, a ten-minute composition unfolding like a fantasy. How did it come together?

I began by processing short fragments of ceremonial sounds from my field recordings of the Pearl Divers and morphed them into an undulating beat which emulates the rise and fall, the breathing of the ocean and the creaking of the boat’s timbers. By repeatedly listening to this groove on loop as an inspiration, I was able to compose the melodies and bass lines which suggested themselves to me.

With all my compositions, I begin by writing down between five and ten short ideas - melodies, chords, patterns, forms – and then sift through these structural cells, choosing the ones I’m drawn to, the ones with potential for development. I sometimes have to write a lot of ‘bad stuff’ to get to the good! I then develop my ideas and often the piece transforms into something very different to what I imagined when started.

With this track, the whole piece is a gradual development from the initial statements with new elements being added throughout. All my ideas come together in the final passage but along the way I sort of break things down and show the listener exactly how the piece is constructed by dissecting the ensemble into its individual parts.

Your father is part of the album as well, but the term family seems to be relevant to your music in a broader sense. What role does community play for your creativity and what do you look for in collaborators?  

Over the years I have released the importance of working with musicians who are open-minded and resonate with one another. One has to feel comfortable, to be in a safe environment, in order to be able to take risks with the music making. I need to trust my band members and for them to trust me and these relationships can take many years to build.

I’ve been playing with my current band members for many years now and they really do feel like an extended family. I also encourage them to make musical suggestions and to have input in shaping our live performances. Martin France taught me how to present my music in the best possible way by gently pointing out very simple things. For example, rather than me conducting tricky passages or transitions, he would suggest he could lead by playing a particular drum cue to create a smooth segue. This took away the additional stress of band leading, so I could focus fully on playing the trumpet.

I’m also part of a much wider community of musicians across London, Europe and the world - a community built on respect, appreciation and co-operation and I’m constantly finding new collaborators and musical soulmates such as Italian bassist, Rosa Brunello, whom I met on a cultural exchange residency in Croatia … which coincidently was also where I first met Alba Nacinovich who features on the album too

The album is also one of the last recordings with Martin France. What were these last sessions with him like – and is listening to them on the album painful or rather a solace in the sense that they capture him at his best?  

I feel very close to Martin when listening to this album and also become quite tearful at times. I think we captured some of his most creative playing on these sessions that I’ve ever heard. His playing is an absolute joy to witness and it’s very hard to realise that he’s gone.

[Read our Martin France interview]

However, when I listen to the album, I feel so happy and privileged to have known him and to have had him shape my music over the last decade. Actually, these sessions were not the final time we recorded together.

In 2022 I was asked to contribute a track to the second Blue Note Reimagined compilation and arranged my response to ‘It’ by Chick Corea. Martin was already unwell at that time, although we didn’t know it, and he said he’d prefer to record his parts at his home studio, which makes sense now.



What he delivered for us to record to is basically some kind of drum concerto – absolutely astounding.