We recently connected with Jon Dryden and have shared our conversation below.
Jon, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Did you always know you wanted to pursue a creative or artistic career? When did you first know?
I’ve long felt that you don’t choose to be a musician. It chooses you. I was born in Santa Cruz, California into a musical family, so music was in my DNA. My father was a trumpet player and elementary school music teacher who gigged on weekends to help pay the bills. He played me Bach, Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven from my crib days, so music was always in the house. I started piano lessons at age five and loved it.
Early adolescence is rough for most people, and I was no exception. The only thing that saved me was music. I got into the Aptos Junior High jazz band and our teacher Craig Robinson nurtured my musical growth and provided a safe space in the music room where I felt understood and in my element. This continued into high school, where Don Keller led one of the best bands in the country. The musical education I received in these early days was incredible, and I devoured books about music and musicians in addition to learning the art of jazz and pop music.
By the time I was fifteen I knew I wanted to go to The Berklee College of Music and move to New York City. This sealed my destiny, as I knew in my heart and soul that I was going to be a professional musician. I’d already played my first paid gigs and was regularly going to the Kuumbwa Jazz Center to see some of the greatest jazz musicians in the world. When the legendary jazz pianist Teddy Wilson played there, I asked him to sign my records and transcription book. His kindness and thoughtfulness that night strengthened my belief in myself.
I graduated from Berklee in 1991 and moved to Brooklyn, where I earned my living solely as a musician. Most people would have pursued a full-time job, as the life of a musician is financially up and down. Looking back now, I marvel at how I survived, but my tenacity and refusal to give up my music career proved fruitful, as I performed and recorded with some of the best musicians in the world. You could say I created my own destiny, but it was music that led me down the right path. The best things often happen when you aren’t trying to achieve them. Music brings them to you. When you trust the muse, it gives back to you and fortifies your belief in yourself.
I work hard at music, but I feel lucky that I had the surroundings and community to help me achieve my dreams. Not all of my dreams have been realized so far, but I’ve had fantastic musical experiences I could never have conceived.
Friedrich Nietzsche wrote: “Without music, life would be a mistake” I couldn’t agree more.
Jon, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?
Music was always around me, and I knew from a very early age that I wanted to be a musician. I didn’t really have a choice in the matter, which was a very special thing.
I played my first professional gig when I was fifteen, and never looked back. There were many older musicians who took me under their wings, so I received a musical education that can’t be found in a classroom. This early real-life experience gave me a clarity that most people my age didn’t have.
Music, like all self-employed professions, relies in word of mouth. You’re only as good as your last gig, as the saying goes, so I pushed myself to be the best at what I was doing. When I moved to Brooklyn to pursue a musical life in New York City, I was surrounded by musicians who were better and more experienced than me. This often- humbling experience is what musicians need to grow as performers.
At The Berklee College of Music and in New York City I played many musical styles and did my best to play them the right way. My musical palette was and is broader than the average pianist-keyboardist, so I’ve been able to work in a variety of incredible musical situations with some of the greatest musicians in the world. These experiences set me apart from most musicians, because I can do many things well as opposed to a more specialized musician who focuses on one thing. My wide range of styles doesn’t make me a jack of all trades and master of none, rather, it strengthens each style as I can see how the various genres connect to each other.
I am proud of many things in my career, but oddly enough some of the projects I’ve worked the hardest on never came to the full fruition I hoped for, but many of the best ones fell into my lap just from being in the right place and right time. I can’t stress enough how showing up early, knowing the music, and being a good person to be with lead to greater success in the industry. Doing these things lead to more gigs, as people you know they can rely on you. It’s important to be hungry to play as much as possible in your early days, as veteran musicians will see your desire and want to have your energy in their projects.
I can trace so many gigs back to friends from Berklee who introduced me to one person to introduced me to another, and so on. You never know who might help you in your career, so being nice and professional to everyone is always the right call.
From one friend at Berklee I met Michal Urbaniak, a legendary jazz violinist. I played and recorded with Michal for years, and that led to tours with jazz greats Regina Cater and Lenny White, among others. Lenny in particular was a guiding force, as he was already one of my musical heroes. When you play with musicians you grew up idolizing, it gives you a sense of belonging and a greater awareness of what you need to do to improve your craft.
Through another Berklee friend, I met people in the Broadway scene, and I performed with Tony-winning actress and vocalist Sara Ramirez, along with other amazing actors. I met Bob Golden through these connections, and we collaborated on many movie and television scores, including Michael Moore’s Capitalism: A Love Story, The Wubbulous World of Doctor Seuss, Gullah Gullah Island, Insomniac with Dave Attell, and ESPN’s Winning Time: Reggie Miller vs. The New York Knicks. My arranging and orchestrating skills improved with these projects, and often there were deadlines that forced me to get it right and done quickly. My focus improved in the studio and showed me to pay attention to the details. There is a difference between getting the right sound on the surface and understanding the little things that might not seem important at first but are the difference between good and great.
What I would like potential clients/band members know about me is my dedication to the music and getting it right. The legendary bassist Ron Carter said, “Don’t bring what you need to the gig. Bring what the gig needs.” I do my best to serve the music. What does this song need? How do I support the vocalist without getting in their way? Am I playing too much or too little? These are questions I’m constantly asking myself, and I think that’s one of the things that sets me apart from others who want to put flashy things in places where they don’t belong.
The ego shouldn’t push you to show off everything you’ve been practicing; it should empower you to play the right thing for the music. Creativity is as much about taste as it is knowledge. Knowing when to be creative and experimental is as important as putting your advanced concepts in the wrong place. If I’m playing country music with Norah Jones and The Little Willies (one of the groups I’m most proud of playing with), I don’t overplay or add richer harmonies when the simplicity is what drives the songs. The older I get, the more comfortable I am with playing fewer notes. It takes some time to realize that we don’t need to fill all the space.
In my improvised jazz solos, I mostly start out with a simple and brief idea. This attention to space also attracts the listener. The variety of texture and density is a necessary element in music, and so is crafting an instrumental narrative. To me, a musical piece or improvised solo shouldn’t be just a collection of nice notes and phrases that work- they should be a musical narrative, like a great short story or play. It doesn’t mean that you play the same solo every time with the same arc, but it gives you a framework that puts the focus on abstract concepts that make you play differently.
I strive to be known as someone who knows and deeply cares about the music. I offer these principles to my jazz studies students at San Jose State and Santa Clara University. I resisted teaching for years, as music is like breathing to me, and I didn’t think I could explain it, as it’s so ingrained in me that I didn’t think I had the words for it. In the eight years that I’ve been teaching on the college level, I’ve seen students blossom as musicians and find themselves in the music. I’m trying to give the young people the lessons and advice that I received from older and more experienced musicians when I was their age. This has improved my musicality, as I’m even more aware of what’s going on in any musical piece than I was before.
I’ve been a professional musician for forty years, so I want people to know that I go into musical situations to make them better. I am comfortable in jazz, pop, rock, and country music, so my musical palette is large. In the end, that makes me a better and well-rounded musician.
What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?
Music has always been a challenging landscape to navigate. We are at once envied for being musical magicians and pitied for living a life with an uncertain career. There is no set path for musical success, but talent, hard work, attention to all details and kindness are the most important things.
Musicians play with other musicians, so there has to be a thriving musical community for them. We need to support each other without resorting to jealousy or envy, but we also need friendly competition to make us want to be better. A lackluster musical community is one that is fine with the status quo and lacks the desire to better itself and the individual musicians. Without the support of our fellow artists, we can’t easily gain the support of listeners.
We need more venues to perform in. The so-called robber barons of the late 19th and early 20th centuries often used their power to harm the country, but they also gave us libraries, performing arts centers, and artistic grants. I don’t see this sort of artistic philanthropy as much in the billionaires of today. The rise of AI as a cheap musical creator is deeply troubling. Musicians are already losing work to people who press a few buttons to create a mediocre and transparently artificial sound that resembles music. Sadly, some people don’t notice or don’t care, and this could be the death knell for musicians.
We’ve also seen a decline in education, and the arts are usually the first things to be cut in private schools. It’s been proven that music helps to build minds, whether the students are planning on pursuing a musical path or not. Critical thinking skills have diminished in American culture, and so has the general appreciation for the arts.
Music is now seen by many as a cheap and disposable commodity. Streaming services barely pay artists for plays, and there is so much music out there (good and bad) that people take whatever the algorithms offer them. It’s a dopamine hit of thirty second bliss, as opposed to a longer slow burn that stays with you longer. Distractions and short attention spans don’t help artists who create long-form or challenging works. We can blame technology all we want, but in the end it’s our culture that has changed the way we focus and process music and art.
In short, I believe we need more music education in our schools, more places to perform, and support from institutions and individuals who understand that the arts are necessary to better everyone.
During World War Two, Winston Churchill was told to cut the arts programs to pay for military expenses. He replied, “Then what are we fighting for?”
We have to fight for our rights as musicians more than ever, and not accept the status quo that wants us to create music for free and be seen as something to be listened to for a minute and instantly forgotten. We should always strive to create better music, but what happens if nobody’s listening?
What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?
Musicians get to communicate with the universe. This is something rarely afforded to the general public. I’ve found that most of my best music comes from something well beyond myself, as if the muse is sending me music from another dimension. But it takes hard and focused work to get to the point where you can be receptive to this otherworldly channel. It is a gift that keeps on giving, but it flows easiest when you let go of your ego and stringent rules you’ve placed upon yourself. All of you r learning allows you to get to this point of acceptance and gratitude.
There is nothing better than playing great music with great musicians you love.
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Image Credits
Ken McCain