Folklore: A Conversation with Ben LaMar Gay

In a musical environment that too often propagates concepts of genre, one label in particular often stands out as problematic: “folk music.” What exactly is folk music? A cursory definition would state that the form is music “of the people.” In the abstract, this idea seems sensical. When Béla Bartók transcribed the works of Transylvanian peasants, few would argue that he was not capturing their folk songs. But in American society, which – at least in theory if not in practice – is designed to intermingle in a concept of E Pluribus Unum, what is the music of the people?What about in a worldwide digital age where an idea can travel the globe instantaneously with the tap of a finger or a click of a mouse?  When one of the most commercial artists of the last quarter century labels her album, Folklore (Republic, 2020), should we just assume the term fully lacks any meaning beyond what the social “elites” dictate to us it should be? Perhaps the concept of “folk music” is tied to a specific aesthetic, a certain danceability, or twanginess of the music. This would certainly partly explain the outrage encountered when Bob Dylan plugged in his guitar at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival. But look at the lineups of that very same festival, where indie rock has come to the fore more than anything acoustic. And, even more importantly, a focus on a specific sonic feature of the music drastically runs the risk of overlooking cultures that are no less valid or essential to the conversation. Is not the music born out of Black musicians in places like Congo Square and the years of development upon it a music of the people?  With Yowzers (International Anthem, 2025), cornetist/vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Ben LaMar Gay tackles these issues directly by presenting a cohesive definition of what it means in the Twenty-First Century for a music to continue to be “from the people.”

Yowzers continues to add to Gay’s esteemed standing as an urban American griot. Or perhaps an old-fashioned singer-songwriter before that term turned into a marketing gimmick. Gay is a composer whose sonic poetry shares essential messages while continuing to preserve the oral traditions and history behind not just great Black American music but great American music more generally. A native of Chicago’s Southside, Gay grew up in a city with one of the world’s richest musical cultures. Through that, he ultimately became a member of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM). From that connection, he has learned from some of the greatest – both his elders and contemporaries – creators of improvised music. He has shared those lessons across a wide range of ensembles that reflect the city’s continually evolving  musical scene, whether labeled jazz, hip hop, house, electronic, rock, avant-garde, salsa, or something else entirely. And those influences are also evident on the gorgeously reflective Yowzers.

Across Yowzers, the music is raw and deceptively unpolished, emphasizing emotional connection over overt shows of virtuosity, though Gay is fully capable of both. The title track’s piano-led recitation of “Ain’t gon snow no more… Rain gon pour and pour … Fire don’t stop no more” speaks to struggles that transcend all cultures and times as well as the enduring human optimism for a brighter future. Musically, the piece is built on the Blues – further reflecting the balance between joy and suffering – and spirituals – a promise of something better. The rhythmically skitterish and synthesizer-distorted “John, John Henry” reflects on the unity of mankind in its conflicting relationship with technology and change, something that applies equally to today’s concerns about artificial intelligence as it does old struggles against Ninetenth Century industrialization. And “I am (bells),” where Gay’s rich a cappella vocals slowly turn into a fiery refutation, speaks of the struggles to identify oneself outside of the labels society tries to thrust on them.

Throughout, Yowzer’s immense energy makes it feel like a live recording – partly due to Gay’s process of documenting collective vibrations in real-time – rather than a studio outing. Given this element, Gay’s quartet should be especially incredible live, where the audience cannot only hear the vibrations as they emerge but feel them directly themselves. On September 11, 2025, those in Austin, Texas, will be able to experience this magic firsthand as Gay and his quartet take to the stage in the small and intimate Draylen Music Studios at KMFA as part of Ingebright Haker-Flaten’s Sonic Transmissions Festival, co-presented by Epistrophy Arts.

We sat down with Gay to discuss what audience members can expect from the upcoming performance, some of the inspiration behind Yowzers, and memories of the late jaimie branch.  

PostGenre: At your upcoming date at the Sonic Transmissions Festival, you will be performing on cornet, vocals, and synths with guitarist Edhino Gerber, tubaist Matthew Davis, and drummer Tommaso Moretti. What inspired the quartet’s distinctive instrumentation?

Ben LaMar Gay: Man, the other three artists are all friends of mine. Together, we laugh and chill. We hang and argue. I want the musicality of themselves to be with me when I play. I start with what they play and then build from there. My imagination runs with them. For Matthew, I know he’s a brass player. He plays tuba for my band, but he plays many things. With him, my imagination flirts with brass band culture. Things like old 1920s or 1930s formations of small groups. But I generally enter into a project with no preset plan and rely more on the people I am working with and what they can provide. At the end of the day, it is the homies, not the instruments, that matter.

PG: Does that tie to brass band culture inspire your playing cornet instead of trumpet?

BLG: Yeah, but after the fact. It is only after you sit back and realize what’s happening. I used to play trumpet, but once a cornet player recommended I check out that horn. I don’t know why. But his name was Butch Morris, the great composer and conductor who was also a cornet player. He told me to check the cornet out and, when I got home, I went to look for one. I’ve played it since.

PG: A big part of Butch’s work was the concept of conduction. Do you use conduction or anything else from him in your music?

BLG: Not from playing with him. We just hung out. We were just homies for a weekend, and talking. But there are so many elders in my community in Chicago – especially in the AACM – who use conduction even though they don’t call it that. Conduction was just Butch’s way of explaining this way of moving ensembles. I do use it in my work, but it’s really because of the elders and the AACM. It is also from my experience being a part of their big bands and seeing how they move an ensemble through an idea.

PG: How did you come to join the AACM?

BLG: Just by being in Chicago and trying to learn how to play and searching for mentors and elders. At some point, you find that you’re sitting in a gig and around these people a lot. You learn about their history and the music’s history, and then join the AACM. It’s really joining the energy of creativity more than joining a group of people. Joining the AACM is just joining a group of people who do the work to keep creativity, imagination, and freedom going.

PG: Is that what you enjoy most about being a member, being able to work with the elders?

BLG: Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s just a small example of how every community should be. Everyone should have a wide spectrum of friends, from young folks to elders and those in between. You can find the AACM and many other organizations like it around the world throughout the history of time. It’s a reminder of how a community should or could work.

PG: It seems there are a few different communities in Chicago besides that of the AACM. For one, you record for International Anthem, and the label has its own circle as well.

BLG: Yeah, yeah, yeah. In a bigger city, the circles form almost out of necessity. I feel humans need each other and always find their little cliques or families to help them get through things.

PG: One of your collaborators – you also appear on each other’s most recent albums – is Damon Locks. Damon will also be performing at the Sonic Transmissions Festival the same evening as you. Any chance of the two of you collaborating that evening?

BLG: It’s going to be two different performances, but every time we see each other, we share a fist pound, a hug, or catch up. We will be making music together. I don’t know if people will be able to see it or hear it. If they’re in the hang too, they will. But on the stage, I don’t think so. Unless we see each other and decide otherwise. Right now, there are no plans. But again, it’s always exciting to see a friend.

PG: As far as your own performance, will you be playing pieces from Yowzers?  

BLG: The band is mostly the same as on the album. The album was a documentation. Our guitar player for the performance – Edhino Garber – is different because the one on the album – Will Faber – just had a kid and needs to spend time with his family. But the music will be what the band has been experimenting with for a while. People in the states don’t get to hear it live much. I don’t get asked to play in the states that much except for places like Austin. The Sonic Transmission Festival is one of those beautiful moments where a musician runs a festival. Ingebright is part of a global community, including Chicago. Luckily, sometimes real sound makers like him are involved in running a festival and invite the people there.

So, yeah, we’ll be playing songs off the album, but the group never really plays the song. Our music is a live thing and different each time we play it. You will hear the songs, but we go through things differently than on the album.

PG: The press materials for Yowzers also discuss how the quartet’s language is spatial and different when heard and seen live. What is the biggest difference between the music live and in the studio? Is it primarily a function of improvised passages differing each time?

BLG: Man, when you’re playing live, you’re in a real space. In the studio, time is frozen. You can freeze it and go back and do edits. Live, time is alive. You need to deal with real spaces and how you sound in them. There are no fake spaces like in the studio where you can put in any sound you want. And the space changes the sound of the group. Of course, using the studio as an instrument can be beautiful too. For my records, I appreciate the instrument of the studio, whether a home studio or a big ass one somewhere. Same with working in the spaces of a live show, whether in a small venue or a big one. They’re all amazing and valid. But it’s a different experience to fill frozen time than live time and real spaces compared to artificial ones.

PG: One thing that stands out about your music, both on record and live, is your power as a storyteller. Do you see yourself more as a storyteller than an instrumentalist?

BLG: I guess being an instrumentalist and a storyteller are the same thing. First of all, I love hearing stories, and I love sharing those stories, hence becoming like a storyteller. So, I think it’s kind of both, but I’m glad that story is at the center. I’m glad that I tell a story when I play my instruments. I’m glad people hear a story. Whatever else I do from there is just using different tools to get the story out.

PG: What is fascinating, too, is that there is a historical angle to your storytelling through music. Your music is thoroughly modern, but the historical roots are exposed. For instance, the spiritual and Blues roots are at the forefront on  “yowzers.” To tap into these roots, are you doing significant formal research of older music, or does your knowledge come more from working with the elders?

BLG: You know, it’s kind of a little of both. It all starts with my own curiosities that have been passed down through me. Maybe they are from TV, films, or books. But regardless of the form, they’re ultimately from humans, you know? And then, your curiosity opens up the doors, and you do research. Doing your own research helps you appreciate when you’re with someone older than you or even younger than you.

But it’s not that I research a particular insular thing. For example, Yowzers comes after years of reading things about American folklore. And that started for me with whoever brought me on that journey and whatever their life has been through. From that person, I just kept reading shit. Watching shit. Listening to shit. Each side of something helps you understand the others. Hearing a human, young or old, say something validates whatever you read or saw.

PG: So, what do you think is the biggest misconception about American folklore or Americana?

BLG: I think when most people use the word “Americana,” it is intended only to cover certain folk traditions. There is a big misconception about what does and doesn’t represent America. Every American’s recipes, sound, or stories should be considered “Americana” and often it’s not thought of that way. I think “Americana” is a bigger echo than we often perceive it to be.

PG: Do you feel that ties directly into what you were saying earlier about how there are limited opportunities to present your music in your own country than in Europe? And, if so, what is the real reason behind it? Racism?

BLG: Yeah, but I think it’s probably capitalism before racism. In the states, funding for the arts – all of the arts- is not really a thing. Our culture is not very supportive of the arts, and it has been that way since at least the beginning of the recording industry. Often, musicians find more work overseas because Europeans and others know they’re getting a good deal on good shit. They’re like, “Man, I can get these amazing things for this price? What are the people in the states doing?” All the films and stories make [the better appreciation of art in Europe] seem romantic, but they just better appreciate the value of art.

PG: To go back to how Yowzers is shaped by folk music, was that particularly behind your decision to provide new music to tell the story of John Henry?

BLG: I don’t cover the song, as you know, but cover the story of this hero. This legend. The essence of this American folk tale, what it meant, and how people adopted it. John Henry is a name that I’ve heard since I was a kid. I think I got hip to it from a cartoon. [laughing]. But I knew he was a big person because of how vocalists would portray him, whether a Blues musician or Paul Robeson.

And it is a trip how his story has carried on and on. When things survive that long, and so many different people talk about it in all different cultures. Or at least different ethnic backgrounds within the states, it says something. Everyone has covered John Henry’s story. Everyone talks about it in this one moment, and how John Henry’s falling down was wrong. Everyone agreed on that, from Johnny Cash to Led Belly [Ledbetter]. So many people that you forget some. And when people like Alan Lomax or Zora Neale Hurston would travel and record musicians, they found that everyone would have their own version of the story. It didn’t matter what race the person was, which makes me think that maybe for this one moment, the whole country said, “Yo, whatever went down, was whack.”

PG: And that story of man versus machine endures. Then it was a drilling machine. Today, it is artificial intelligence. But the underlying theme remains relevant even as technology changes.

BLG: Yeah, we still see it all the time. Man versus machine is one of the oldest stories, and it just keeps on evolving and changing.

As far as the piece, I just wanted to take that essence and feeling that I get when I hear his name. You can go through so many portals from the name “John” alone, and what it means to African Americans in John Henry’s time. And I have had friends – not even African-American cats either – hit me up, telling me that their middle name was Henry or they were otherwise connected with his name. John Henry’s legend is ultimately about the people. And I wanted to remix the whole story of the people versus the machine.

PG: To ask you about another song on the album, “for Breezy” was presumably dedicated to the late jaimie branch, right?

BLG: Yeah, it’s for jaimie.

PG: Do you have a favorite memory of your time with her?

BLG: As you mentioned  earlier about the circle and community of International Anthem, we’re all friends. So, we were all going through it together, at one point. And it still happens when I’m on the road now that she’s not here. I miss her because we would communicate and help each other. She would be on her tour, and I would be on mine in different parts of the country or even different continents. But regardless of how far apart we were, jaimie knew how to reach me. Her emoji pattern scheme was amazing. She knew how to time a joke or laugh when you needed it. So, we could be  thousands of miles apart, but she could still always feel a vibration in you and send you the message right on time. Something like a painting of hilarious emojis would tell a great story that revealed a joke between us.

And every time I’m out there now, I get reminded by her. Like if I am at a venue and see a hilariously placed sticker, I think “Oh man, jaimie must have put that there.” That sort of thing happens to me a lot. When people transition, I see them in different places. I still see jaimie everywhere.

Ben LaMar Gay will be performing on September 11, 2025 at KMFA Studios in Austin, Texas as part of the 2025 Sonic Transmissions Festival. ‘Yowzers’ is out now on International Anthem. It can be purchased on Bandcamp.

Photo credit: Joe Jones