Bryan Beller?s has added expert bass textures to songs/albums by artists such as Steve Vai, Janet Robin, Nick D?Virgilio, although he?s probably best known for his work with Mike Keneally, first in Z (with Ahmet and Dweezil Zappa), then with Beer For Dolphins and on two solo Keneally outings (Boil That Dust Speck and Wooden Smoke). Personable and intelligent beyond words, Beller is hard at work on his first solo project, View, something we talked about a great deal in the following interview.

For more on this release and all the exciting parts of the Life of Bryan, visit http://www.bryanbeller.com/.

JB:You?re working on a solo album, something that people familiar with your work have probably thought about from time to time, perhaps even wished for, but four-five years ago the idea that you?d be working on a project like this seemed impossible because you didn?t really write music back then. Then in ?01, you wrote ?No,? for the Taylor Guitar tour you did with Keneally. What was it that moved you toward writing songs and then to actually working on an album?

BB: "No" was a harbinger of things to come, though at the time I didn't know it. Pardon my backsliding into gear-whore mode, but the instrument on which I wrote "No," the Taylor AB-4 Acoustic/Electric Bass, inspired me more to write that one song than any creative spark or "a-ha" I had on my own. I was just fiddling around one day in my bedroom, something I never did on any instrument but the Taylor, and it just kind of happened all in a half-hour. I never recorded it, but I played it enough times to remember it, and then I began performing it at Taylor clinics - usually badly, because it's a tricky, technical, "clinic demo" piece more than a real song. At the time, I considered it an anomaly. It wasn't like the next day I had another idea or anything. But it was something I could do at a Taylor clinic and impress my family at the very least.

Between the time I wrote "No" - which was early '01 - and the time I began working on the full-blown solo record, a lot happened that changed me. The biggest thing was that I moved out of North Hollywood, out of the San Fernando Valley, and way out into the sticks of northern Los Angeles County, to a place called Canyon Country. I've always been a mountain freak, and I have a thing for dusty roads with barren, sandy, southwestern landscapes and tumbleweeds blowing by. Once I settled in, my whole outlook on life changed. I know that sounds corny, but it's true. It took a year after I moved for me to unclog my creative arteries and complete some other long-standing projects --like getting my website off the ground, and hiking Mt. Whitney if you can believe that--and then I started hearing melodies in my head.

I didn't know whether it would come to anything, but the feeling was strong enough for me to go out and buy a Boss BR-1180CD hard disk recorder and see what would happen. I recorded the first melodic idea I heard. It became what I now see as the album opener, a Taylor acoustic/electric two-track solo piece called "Bear Divide." After that, it was like someone opened the floodgates. Almost instantly, I had ideas for seven more songs. Two weeks later, I had three more songs recorded in demo form. I also knew what the album was in total. Every song, down to the title and the sequence. It was really weird.

JB: It?s interesting that you waited before you started writing because you?re someone who seems to enjoy creating (although I don?t know how many of us ?enjoy? creativity for all the back-breaking hours we spend on things that don?t always work), or is at the very least in tune with the creative process. You?ve written a novel, penned columns and CD reviews for online and print publications. Was all of this, this burst of writing, a case, do you think, of one day opening a door you?d walked by all your life and saying, ?Oh, so this is where they keep this stuff around here??

BB: Honestly, I still feel much more natural creating as a writer than as a musician. The pure creative ideas flow out much more often. But the process of executing the literary ideas is more challenging for me, because for starters, I'm not an English major, and furthermore, I've only really been writing for a couple of years at anything resembling a professional level. With music, I've been at it on bass for nearly twenty years. Plus I have a pretty good working knowledge of the keyboard thanks to some early classical lessons. So when the ideas finally came, I had a lot of saved-up, general musical acumen to apply to getting the ideas firmed up into song form. It was an interesting contrast to what I go through when I'm writing, which can be pretty slow and painstaking, even though I know exactly what I want to say.

So there you have it. With writing, I know what I want to say but I struggle more with how to say it. With music, I'm discovering that I have something to say, but I need to refine exactly what that is --but once I get there, I get pretty confident in the execution phase.

As far as how long I waited to begin writing music, it wasn't a voluntary act. It just happened when it happened at what I have to believe turned out to be the right point in my life.

JB: You seem to have a lot of different ?compartments? in your life. Can you talk about the different demands each one places on you/the demands you place on yourself for each?

BB: I actually spend quite a bit of time thinking about this. I used to have way too many priorities in my life, and the result was an incredible amount of stress and not much happiness at the end of the day. I now have a system where I only take on three big commitments at a time. First, there's SWR, my daytime workplace for the last six years. Second, there's my position as the bassist in the Mike Keneally Band, which isn't a constant time commitment, but when work does arise it's usually a pretty intense situation involving travel. The third commitment rotates. Last year it was moving out into the mountains. Then it was creating bryanbellerdotcom, my own dedicated space on the web (as opposed to just having an area of the Keneally site). Earlier this year (2002) it was a six-month physical commitment, getting in shape to hike Mt. Whitney--which I did in June. After that, I was kind of "available" to myself for the first time in a while. The solo album ended up taking up that third slot, which is how I have it set up now. I've been writing less literature lately, and you can see why considering how I run my life.

Sometimes it works, sometimes I feel like I'm killing myself. But I know myself well enough to know that I really enjoy working. I've just done a better job of making the things that I work on things that I really, truly want to do. When I find myself spending time working on something I wish I wasn't doing, I have a viscerally negative reaction and it shows up in my day-to-day mood. So I try very hard not to let that happen, because I have plenty to do that I do enjoy.

JB: I know you?ve sort of answered this at your web site, but for those who aren?t regular visitors, can you talk a little bit about what this whole thing is shaping up like? What might we hear? Or, is it so early in the process that you, yourself, won?t really know until you get into the final stages of the process?

BB: Well, thanks to this wonderful little hard disk recorder, I have a pretty good idea of how it will sound when it's all done. Talking about music is pretty nonsensical in a lot of ways, but I'll give it a shot.

I've spent the last four years listening to guitarists much more than listening to bassists. John Scofield and Michael Landau in particular have hit a nerve with me. There's something rootsy, almost common (in the classist sense), about the way they approach very complex harmonic structures. It conveys a sense of the rural outdoors to me, and when it's done right--that "alone on a dusty highway" kind of sound--I could listen to it all day long. Compositionally, I'm trying to convey that feeling on some tracks, both in tonality and in sounds to tape. Guitars will be very important on this record. There will be some bass playing, sure, but I can tell you right now that this is not going to be like some kind of bass hero statement. I don't think I could make that record even if I wanted to, but really, I can't think of anything that interests me less.

But that's only one part of it. The other thing I want to communicate is a much more complex, 10,000-feet-high view of how I see my own life in musical terms. The way I see it, the record has three distinct parts to it. The vibe I described above is only one of them. At some point in the sequence, the direction is going to change dramatically, and there will be two songs with vocals. We'll see how everyone reacts to that; it's going to be a little risky for me both musically and emotionally.

JB: How does it feel, this time out, to be the one who?s seeing the project from seed to flower?

BB: Great. I'm in control of my own destiny. What else is there in life? Then again, we'll see how much I enjoy trying to corral everyone's schedules into some kind of studio calendar, and how much I get off on handling the business side of things. I guess I don't really know the full answer to your question yet, but certainly on the creative side, it's wonderful.

JB: Can we talk a little bit about bass? What is your practice routine like? Do you see a division between practicing and playing and can you talk a little bit about how you developed your specific approach to the instrument? Do you view the instrument as ongoing learning process?

BB: Ah, now it will be revealed...I don't have a practice routine. Never did. I only learned songs. Maybe that's why my technique suffers next to those in the pantheon of bass heroism. My approach to the instrument has always been song-oriented. I just want to do what's best for the song. I really don't enjoy soloing, and whenever I do play a good solo, I regard it as a happy accident. But I've had plenty of opportunity to hone my craft by gigging and learning music off of records, and that helps me grow as a bassist to the extent that I gig and take on new material. Honestly, I have other interests, and I know I'll never be like Michael Manring or anyone like that because I just don't have that kind of patience. I have too many other things, outside of music, that I want to do. So really, I've been blessed to be working with a genius like Mike Keneally, who pushes my sense of what's possible in a song context to the limit without exposing my inability to play at a million miles an hour too frequently.

JB: I don?t know whether or not you?ve taught bass [tips at Taylor clinics aside] but I?m guessing that you have. What are some things that you would/have emphasized in lessons?

BB: Learn music off of records. Develop your ear. It's the most important tool in the musical toolbox. I did teach private lessons for a little while, but I quickly realized it wasn't for me. Too many scheduling issues.

JB: If I remember correctly, you played piano first. Do you think it?s important that most people learn more than one instrument? Why?

BB: I'm in no position to tell other people what they should or shouldn't do, but I agree strongly with Keneally's take on it. He thinks that it would help any musician to have a working knowledge of the keyboard, because it's the most universal and logical interface available. And I concur. Guitar in particular seems so obtuse; I don't know how people see all the notes on a six-stringed instrument that doesn't skip intervals in even fourths from low to high string. God forbid I ever had to play one of those things.

JB: I was really a big fan of your Bass Player column. I don?t play bass but I found a lot of what you had to say applicable to a number of things outside of music. (Writing, for instance.) How important do you think it is that a musician not only learn their instrument but also learn skills (professionalism, being able to work on instruments if needed, being able to work with club managers, read maps, etc.) that are going to help them land (and keep) gigs?

BB: I don't know that my experience with all of these things really matters to everyone who wants a career in music - I just wanted to write something other than an instructional column, because Bass Player has enough of those. There are some universal truths about touring and the music biz, though, so hopefully I helped clue a few people in. But with a lot of these things, there's no substitute for going out there on your own and learning some of the harder lessons of being a professional musician through trial and error.

JB: Your main music gig for a long time now has been with Mike Keneally. He?s said that he doesn?t really have to give you a lot direction for bass parts, something that suggests he trusts that you?ll add the right thing for each song. Obviously, the two of you have clicked. What, for you, are the most rewarding elements of Keneally?s music?

BB: The complex harmonic content and song forms really get my brain working. He knows how to build a song, how to make it mean something by the time you get from start to finish. And I do have a lot of freedom, which I appreciate, but there are times when he does know exactly what he wants, and I'm more than happy to accommodate that. He's writing material at such a high level of proficiency, it's hard to imagine how he even conceives of it. I trust him as a writer just as much as he trusts me as a bassist, if not more so.

JB: One of my favorite tracks you?ve done with Keneally is ?We?ll Be Right Back.? Can you talk a little bit about how you developed the bass line on that one?

BB: There are a lot of parts in that song, so in the interest of space, I'll just answer you regarding the intro and the chorus. The intro was a lot of fun, precisely the rich harmonic challenge I was referring to in the previous answer. Mike gave me the outline of the chords behind the arpeggios and the harmonized melody, and said it should be sparse. The little "stabbing" bass notes that came out were pretty simple, but they sound complex underneath the weird stuff going on in the three-part-harmony melody. Then, when that intro passage repeats itself in the bridge, I knew I wanted to let loose there, so I asked to overdub it once the basics were down. Sometimes Mike writes a chord structure that feels as if it were made for me; this was one of those times. He just let me do whatever I wanted, and stood behind me laughing while I did it, mostly in one pass. We had fun doing that.

The chorus bass line is based on the lower register of the guitar part, which Mike asked me to double. All I did there was add harmonics the second time around, plus some little embellishments to go along with the drum fills. Technically, it's a lot harder than it sounds. I made life difficult for myself there, but it's such a pretty, chime-y sounding section that I couldn't help but add harmonics to it.

JB: How long does it take for a song to seep into your subconscious, where you don?t have to think it but ?only? have to play it? Are there songs that haven?t made it there yet? What do you think?s keeping them out?

BB: For everything I feel I can't do well, this is one thing I can do. I can soak in a song pretty quickly. Two listens, usually, unless it's a real bitch. Once it's there, it rarely leaves.

JB: This is one question I?m never able to ask musicians, so here goes: You?ve voiced a number of opinions about politics over the years. Is there a part of you that would feel comfortable in public office?

BB: In a word, no. My personal life makes even thinking about that a complete impossibility. A good friend of mine has an interesting take on this: the very thought of wanting to run for public office should automatically disqualify that person from doing so. The amount of pure shit you have to eat to fulfill that kind of ambition says something about the people who do it, both positive and negative. You can take that however you want. It's certainly easier to sit on the sidelines and take potshots at the people with enough brass to stand up there and try it, and that would be a
legitimate condemnation of the punditry if it weren't for the fact that the overwhelming majority of today's politicians are stupefyingly vacuous. But that's a subject for another time.