Guitar Legend Vernon Reid Talks New Album ‘Hoodoo Telemetry’, Playing Ozzy’s ‘Back To The Beginning’ & More (INTERVIEW)

He may have burst on the scene in the late ‘80s via Living Colour and that awesome “Cult of Personality” riff, but guitarist Vernon Reid has gone on to participate in a variety of projects from a head-spinning number of genres from jazz to electronic.

Reid is back with a new solo album, Hoodoo Telemetry, which drops Friday, October 3rd..And, as you might expect from someone with his resume, it’s a diverse affair, encompassing everything from blues to electronic, from instrumental to vocal. If you come in unaware, you might be surprised at a cool cover that seems almost obvious in retrospect. Of course, none of this is surprising for a player who’s worked with everyone from Mick Jagger to Public Enemy to DJ Logic.

We talked to Reid via Zoom from the “home studio that doubles as my man cave,” which he calls the Dharma Lab. A Lost reference? While he hadn’t considered it, he did like the show despite our gentleman’s disagreement on the ending. 

Agreeing it was best to avoid such controversial topics, we stuck to the real matter at hand: Reid’s panoramic mastery of styles and how they blend and meld together. Reid, who presents himself as a striking mix of deep and reflective while also approachable and humble, is the kind of guy who seems to live and breathe all sorts of art, and there’s a sense he would be happy to consider meaning and relevance all day. 

The following interview has been edited for length and clarity. 

How did you get involved in the Ozzy Osbourne/Black Sabbath tribute event Back To The Beginning? And what does Ozzy’s passing mean for the world of rock and roll in general?

I became involved because Living Color was also managed (by Anthrax’s manager). So, the connection was there. And, also, I’m friends with Tom Morello (guitarist, Rage Against the Machine). I’ve known him for a long time. And really, Tom credits Living Colour big time. He’s often said, “If it wasn’t for Living Color, you know, a Rage Against the Machine wouldn’t exist.” It was the fact that he said it to his son while we were there. He said, “That band, we knew it was possible to do what we were doing because Living Color was in the mix.” So, there’s some background. And I’ve toured with Aerosmith. It was amazing to see (vocalist) Steven Tyler. Sammy Hagar is a good dude.

You know, Zach (de la Rocha, Rage vocalist) is awesome, and the Anthrax guys are like brothers to us. With Ozzy, I often go back to the song “War Pigs,” you know, because “War Pigs” was so explicitly anti-war and against the military-industrial complex. Sabbath is never really thought of as political. But “War Pigs” is like “Masters of War” by Bob Dylan, or “Machine Gun” by Hendrix. Sabbath was a band that bridged blues-based hard rock and the creation of metal. You know, that movement, from that one thing to this other thing, they are incredibly important, incredibly transgressive.

You mentioned blues-based rock. One of the things that surprised me in listening to Hoodoo Telemetry was the cover of Cream’s “Politician.” I hadn’t looked at the track listing, so when it started, I was surprised. Why that song in the middle of more avant-garde material?

I played with Jack Bruce, you know, we had a band called the Cuicoland Express. We then had another project with John Medeski and Cindy Blackman, called Spectrum Road. And we used to play “White Room.” And we used to play “Sunshine of Your Love.” And we used to play “Politician.” And “Politician” is maybe my favorite Cream song. That and “Badge.” I love “Badge” too. But “Politician” is so on point. You know, “Hey baby, get into my big black car.” I love that, you know, “I support the left, even though I’m leaning to the right.” It’s phenomenal. I’d always wanted to record it. I played it with Jack a number of times.

You’ve said the material on the record originates from a number of different eras in your life. But was it recorded at different times? 

There are some recordings that go back quite a way. And I took the recordings, and I was able to extract stems from them and put in brand new bass, brand new guitars. So, there’s live in-studio and then there’s fusions of the two, like “My Little Zulu Babe.” I mean, those lyrics are like from Bert Williams from 1904. And it was such an interesting challenge, because the way they used to play music back then, they would do these kinds of set pieces, they would play and they would stop and do these pauses, and do these anecdotes or whatever. We had to get the timing just right. And it worked out really, really well. And then I added a friend of mine, and he does an actual Zulu wedding toast, and it worked out really well. So yeah, there’s a combination of different things.

I was also struck by the song “Freedom Jazz Dance.” I went back and listened to the Miles Davis tune, and it was what I remembered. No lyrics. Of course, your song has lyrics. What am I missing? 

So, so I’m a huge Eddie Harris fan, you know? Okay. It’s actually Miles, but that’s an Eddie Harris tune that Miles is covering. 

Oh, ok. I didn’t know that. 

(John) McLaughlin covered it. Brian Augers, the Oblivion Express covered it. It has become a standard. And when the tune came out, it was pretty popular, and it’s kind of this modal challenging head. So, the vocal version comes about because Bruce Mack, who is one of the vocalists for Burnt Sugar Arkestra Chamber, we were recording with Ivan Julian at Super Giraffe Sound. And he was like, “Hey, Vernon, check this out. Let me try something.” And he went and found the lyrics, the Eddie Jefferson version of “Freedom Jazz Dance,” because Eddie Jefferson was a scat singer who would do, like, “I’m in the Mood for Love” and all this different stuff. You know, he put lyrics to solos on it. And so, Eddie Jefferson did these lyrics for the head of “Freedom Jazz Dance.” And it’s kind of a fusion of the two things, you know, and it worked out really, really well.

So, your version is the cover of the Eddie Harris version. And Miles also covered the Eddie Harris version. He just did an instrumental version of it. 

Right, right. But it’s also with the Eddie Jefferson lyrics. You know, Eddie Jefferson did a few things. So one of the vocalists suggested, “Hey, man, let’s do the Eddie Jefferson,” you know, because vocalists were there, because we’re doing “Politician,” right? It was the same session. So, we’re going to do “Freedom Jazz” as an instrumental, and then “Politician.”

It’s always seemed that you use a lot of unusual note choices in solos, at least to my ear. Chromatic scales and things like that. Outside note choices. Is that a correct observation?

Oh yeah, very much so. The thing is, for me, that when I was coming up, I was very influenced by the way Hendrix never played the same solo twice. He was an improviser, you know? I was getting turned on to Hendrix, Eric Dolphy, and John Coltrane at the same time, as well as Albert Eiler and Ornette Coleman. You know, I was also hearing Sonny Sharrock and Pete Cosey with Miles Davis. These are part of the things that kind of shaped my aesthetic, as well as hearing Howlin’ Wolf and, you know, Mr. Hubert Sumlin, and hearing (Funkadelic’s) “Maggot Brain.”

Take Arthur Rhames, he’s seismic, he’s ridiculous. He played saxophone like (John) Coltrane, he played piano like McCoy Tyner, and he played guitar like some cross between Johnny Winter and John McLaughlin, and he was, you know, just this remarkable character. The fact is, he is known to only a handful of people. A handful of people will still say his name. He made such a difference in my life. And the fact that he died of AIDS is a tragic thing. And the last thing he said to me was, “Vernon, when I get out of here, you know, I’m going to focus on blues because this experience has given me a new insight into human suffering.” Literally, verbatim, what he said to me. And this is a guy who could play “Giant Steps” in any key, you know? So, you know, the blues is an existential fact, even though people think of it as playing minor pentatonic scales or whatever. But it is about the question of existence at a fundamental level, and whether that’s spelled out in a romantic relationship or hard times, or being broke or whatever it is. Howlin’s Wolf tells you a spoonful, but not what it is. How avant-garde is that? It could be a spoonful of diamonds. Just a little, just a little spoon of your precious love is good enough for me. I mean, that’s Willie Dixon, pure poetry.

And yeah, that’s a part of it. That’s a part of it, as well as these, you know, kind of far-flung weird things. It’s all so grounded in that. And those are the musics, the extremes, and the subtle things. They help shape my thoughts.

It’s well-known that Spotify and other streaming services pay next to nothing, and that albums are not the most financially viable project. Without being rude, I guess there’s a question of “why bother?” You have to make a living.

It’s kind of catch as catch can. You know, if you can do something viably live, work viably live, that’s kind of a way to go. I think records matter. The fact that records exist is remarkable to me. They shouldn’t, you know, by the conventional wisdom, like records and cassettes shouldn’t exist, but they do. And they exist for young people. I think there’s a mood to get away from being tracked all the time.

When you play the physical album and you’re engaged with the artwork, it’s a different kind of physical experience. And the physical experiences are becoming tactile experiences. It’s becoming vital as everything is moving towards virtual.  But the idea of cabling something together yourself to create a noise, a sound, or a drum beat, but not using a drum machine to produce the beat, rather using a sequencer. And the fact that it exists at all as a market says something about our engagement with things that interest us. All you need is enough people. Because it’s not going to be like music as a mass phenomenon has changed. But even thinking of that sort of thing, the long tail, the “why bother?” is where the humanness is. Why bother to play chess when you know that there’s a machine that beat Kasparov? Because you’re moving your pawn into center position. You’re the one doing the opening, right? If journeys matter, then the things that we do matter.

Part of the problem with technology is the “why bother?” effect. The challenge is to stay human in the middle of all this. That’s the great challenge, because we’ve created an entity. Arthur C. Clarke said any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. And that’s what the AI thing is. And the AI thing is not streaming, but it is connected to it. It’s connected to social media. We need to enter into conversations about morality. What are our responsibilities to one another as human beings? And those things are challenged. And there are many people who say, “It’s a flash in the pan.” You’re thinking about this all wrong because we’re the component, because we are the missing link. Our impulse to anthropomorphize, to fill in the gaps, that’s the other component that has to be factored in. We’re living in interesting times, and Hoodoo Telemetry is the sound of interesting times.