On some nights, within the condensed vibrancy of Greenwich Village, the memories of Charlie Parker and Miles Davis early morning jam sessions don’t seem that far off. It’s on one of these nights, from a narrow cave of a bar, that Jennifer Hartswick’s voice comes shooting out into the streets like a heart-breaking bullet.
Inside, the intimacy of the venue can be felt in the looming shadows occupants cast against the far wall, or from the enraptured couple curled up in less than pure activity in a darkened corner. This kind of atmosphere has allowed Hartswick, a singer, trumpet player and budding compositional talent, to maintain an innocence about her music as she expands upon her vital role in the Trey Anastasio Band and forges her own identity.
“Anything else would be, well, suicide,” Hartswick says of that intimacy. Later in the conversation, she tosses off a cheery “Back in a second!” and walks up the steps onto the stage to perform.
During her opening number, “Meet Me,” she delivers the refrain “And when you meet me, you better be alone” with graceful irreverence, her head bobbing back and forth. She melts into the kind of knowing grin one wears when remembering an old romance or an inside joke, then reaches down for her horn and expands on guitarist Dave Diamond’s solo.
“I love live performance,” says a laughing Hartswick, who maintains a powerful, matriarchal stage presence. “I love the fact that everything has the possibility of going completely downhill, and it’s a celebration when it doesn’t, knowing that some people come because they don’t know what to expect. I love that fact that you don’t know what’s going to happen, because it all boils down to the fact that music is language, and you’re having a conversation with someone.”
Hartswick’s maternal aura, and her band’s sense of attunement, is at least partially the result of their shared history. Eight of the ten members hail from Vermont, and most of them grew up together.
“When I put this band together,” said Hartswick, “I decided first and foremost that friendship and chemistry were going to come first. I think that’s where a lot of bands today go wrong. They put a bunch of musicians together who have no history and no chemistry together, and expect them to have those musical conversations. It just doesn’t work. Everyone in the band grew up together so we all bring the same kind of vibe to the table.”
Creating her own presence
Every up-and-coming artist has a certain interpretative weight to shed; Hartswick’s is her attachment to Anastasio, a musician whose staggering musical output and virtuosity has made him the lightning rod of the so-called “jam-band” scene. But Hartswick has emerged from that vibrant chaos of talent to create a presence all her own.
During the Trey Anastasio Band’s riotously received headlining performance at the recent Bonnaroo Music Festival, which included no-name acts like Bob Dylan, Steve Winwood, David Byrne, and The Dead, the connection between Hartswick and Anastasio was evident in their playful, collaborative onstage antics.
“There is so much to be gained from playing with Trey in terms of my education,” Hartswick said, “his arranging and composition and skills, obviously, to begin with. He thinks in that very classical manner. Everything that he arranges seems to make sense to me, to fit. And then there’s obviously the guitar skills, I mean he’s one of the greatest guitarists to ever live.”
Rather than being imitative, what Hartswick has managed to do with her band is weld her own vision and sound to the smooth, festive pathos of the Anastasio band. The resulting frenetic funk possesses a soulful, jazz-influenced core, intensified by wandering improvisations that throw all the cards wonderfully into the air.
This dynamic is maintained in the band’s aptly named debut album, “Fuse,” which sets her emotive, Etta Jamesish voice on songs like “All Along,” “Meet Me” and “What If I” against explorative numbers like the title track and the semi-humorous “Mama’s Not Laughing,” which highlight her equally soulful trumpet play.
“It’s an unusual and amazing combination,” saxophonist Zach Lucas says of the trumpet/vocal dichotomy. It’s explained to some degree by the progression of Hartwsick’s musical education, from classical composition to jazz and beyond, into the space of what Dead bassist Phil Lesh might call “metamusic.”
The entire “Fuse” album was laid down, somewhat shockingly, in three days.
“That spontaneity and joy of playing was, I hope, reflected in the record,” Hartswick says. “Being any sort of artist is hard, and I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that you never complete anything, everything is always a work in progress. (The album) was the first thing that I was proud of that I’d completely accomplished. It couldn’t be changed anymore, and I was happy with it.”
After tonight’s show ends with an encore of Bill Withers’ “Use Me,” the Jennifer Hartswick Band retreats backstage, which is an unguarded opening about the size of the average bedroom.
The audience mingles with Hartswick’s old high school friends, most of whom shared the stage with her at some point during the night. It’s an intense sensation of family and music, stripped, warm, and satisfying.