Levy also released a bevy of solo albums—as well as an instructional book/DVD, Play the Right Stuff—that further established his sophisticated, laid-back approach to harmony and melody. Obviously, it is extremely difficult for an instrumental guitarist to forge a highly identifiable style these days, and while the connection to a high-profile act such as Norah Jones greatly enhanced Levy’s public stature, the GP staff was psyched that he had, in fact, developed a resolute “Levy-ness.”

Then, he decided to shift gears and become a singer/songwriter. (Right here, concerned “oohs” swell up from the soundtrack.) Most artists aren’t lucky enough to click in two different genres, but Levy’s restless creative muse, bravery, and jazz background that embraces improvisation and musical hybridization combine to rev him up for the task. Last year’s Washing Day and 2006’s Loose Rhymes: Live on Ludlow Street [both on Lost Wax] retain all of the charm of Levy’s supple guitar playing, while adding lush melodies, smooth and restrained vocals, and some crafty lyrics. Here, Levy shares three key lessons he learned from playing jazz that have helped him refine his chops as a singer/songwriter.

Transcribing

“Most every jazz guitar student goes through a period of transcribing solos from records,” says Levy. “It’s the best way to see what improvised solos are made of—how themes develop or don’t, and how closely the rules of harmony are adhered to. I’ve done the same in studying lyric writing. I’ve transcribed Dylan—particularly the songs from Infidels. There’s some dark, biting stuff in there, and the meanings are less ambiguous than some of Dylan’s other work. Then, there’s Loudon Wainwright III, Neil Young, Randy Newman—particularly Good Old Boys, with its colorful details about life in the old and not-so-old South—and Elvis Costello’s Blood and Chocolate, with its intricate rhyme schemes. Once I’ve written out the lyrics—longhand, on yellow legal pads—I look at the rhymes, and the overall structure of the song. Starting a new song from a blank page can be scary—it can really put me in a Barton Fink frame of mind. So I often find it helpful to start with the structure of some song I already know well, and then build within that framework. For example, my song “Longest Day of the Year” uses the verse structure of Neil Young’s “Birds” from After the Gold Rush. Eventually, I leave the other writer’s framework, and find my own form.”

Vocal Phrasing

“I studied melodic phrasing with a great teacher—a clarinetist—several years ago,” says Levy. “He got me looking at phrases as having a beginning, a middle, and an end. I’d take, say, a two-bar phrase, and decide I’d want to end the phrase on the and of beat three in bar 2. If you look at that end point, and know that you can improvise anything as long as your last note is exactly on that beat, it frees you up to do all kinds of things in the middle of the phrase. You can make the meter more elastic, or follow the rules of harmony less strictly.

“In my tenure with Norah, I learned how phrasing a melody just right can be the difference between getting an emotion across to an audience, or just simply rattling off another rhyme. She’s very particular about phrasing. I know, because when I’ve sung harmony vocals with her, we’ve spent a lot of time getting my phrases to match hers. Just when I’d think I was on the money, she’d point out some small detail I’d missed.

“One of the big challenges I’ve faced as a singer is how to phrase my vocal lines loosely, yet keep my rhythm guitar deep in the pocket. Ideally, I’d be Keith Richards on guitar and Lou Rawls on vocals. That’s a tall order. Part of my brain has to keep my hands moving in time, while another other part is keeping my voice everywhere but on the beat. Yet, people have commented it’s easy to understand the lyrics when I sing, and I think part of the reason is that I try to stay a little ahead of or behind the beat. If you sing right on top of the beat, so many other things are happening in that moment—the bass, the drums, and the rhythm guitar.

It’s better to put yourself someplace more spacious—like between the beats.”

Mentoring

“One of the surest ways to improve as a player is to play with musicians who have more knowledge and experience than you,” counsels Levy. “As a young jazzer in my 20s, I was fortunate to gig with players ten, 20, and even 30 years older than me. Now I’m focused on writing, and, whenever possible, I write with people who have been at the craft for a long time. One guy who has helped a lot is Miles Zuniga, from the band Fastball. Recently, I shared an idea for a song called ‘Nothing to Write Home About,’ and his first comment was, ‘Well, if that’s your hook, you’re going to have to come up with some great rhymes for about, and there aren’t that many.’ An experienced writer can see pitfalls before they even pick up the pen. And that relates back to transcribing. When you transcribe lots of lyrics, you see some of the same words come up over and over, and you see how other writers have handled rhyming them in creative ways. Whatever rhyme scheme you’re working with, another writer has likely been down that road before. Why not learn from them? Throw away your rhyming dictionary and check out actual songs by actual writers.”

www.adamlevy.com