Ben Wendel: Assembling the Mallet Avengers
The Grammy-nominated saxophonist and Kneebody co-founder joins us for episode 300 to discuss his new album BaRcoDe, a project built around four of the most inventive mallet players working today.
Today, The Tonearm’s needle drops on saxophonist and composer Ben Wendel.
Ben is a Grammy-nominated saxophonist, composer, and co-founder of Kneebody, with a discography that covers post-bop, chamber jazz, and electronic music. He’s worked with Bill Frisell, Tigran Hamasyan, Terence Blanchard, and yes, Prince.
His new album BaRcoDe just dropped on Edition Records. It’s built around a concept that’s hard to pull off: four of the most in-demand vibraphonists working today—Joel Ross, Simon Moullier, Patricia Brennan, and Juan Diego Villalobos—surrounding one saxophonist. The group developed the music across two residencies at The Jazz Gallery in New York City, and the result sits between chamber music and jazz improvisation, with electronics running through all of it.
Ben’s here to walk us through how this project came together and what it took to write for an ensemble like this.
(The musical excerpts heard in the interview are from Ben Wendel’s album BaRcoDe)
Dig Deeper
• Visit Ben Wendel at benwendel.com and follow him on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube
• Purchase Ben Wendel’s BaRcoDe from Edition Records, Bandcamp, or Qobuz and listen on your streaming platform of choice
• BaRcoDe — Postgenre review
• BaRcoDe — PopMatters review
• Kneebody — Ben Wendel’s long-running band; Reach (2025) includes “Repeat After Me,” also recorded on BaRcoDe
The Jazz Gallery:
• The Jazz Gallery — the New York venue where BaRcoDe was commissioned and developed across two residencies (2023 and 2025)
Ensemble Members:
• Joel Ross — Blue Note Records
• Simon Moullier
• Patricia Brennan — The Tonearm Interview
• Juan Diego Villalobos
Musical Influences and References:
• Sō Percussion — the Grammy-winning new-music percussion quartet whose members came up with Wendel at the Eastman School of Music; a key inspiration for BaRcoDe
• Antônio Carlos Jobim — “Olha Maria” — one of Wendel’s favorite compositions; the sole non-original on the album
• Kit Downes — British pianist and organist on ECM Records; a loose inspiration for “Birds Ascend”
• Aidan O’Rourke — Scottish fiddle player and composer; also a loose inspiration for “Birds Ascend”
• The Creative Act: A Way of Being by Rick Rubin — Wendel paraphrases a line from this book when discussing the title BaRcoDe
Los Angeles Connections:
• The World Stage — performance and education space in Leimert Park Village, Los Angeles; co-founded by drummer Billy Higgins; a formative venue for Wendel
• Terrace Martin — Wendel’s high school friend and collaborator; hip-hop producer for Kendrick Lamar and Snoop Dogg
• Billy Higgins — legendary jazz drummer and World Stage co-founder; an early mentor
Venues:
• The Village Vanguard — New York jazz institution; site of Wendel’s Understory: Live at the Village Vanguard (Edition, 2024)
• The Bunker Studios, Brooklyn — where BaRcoDe was recorded in January 2025
Education:
• Eastman School of Music — where Wendel studied and encountered both rigorous conservatory training and, through two CalArts-trained faculty members, a more open, questioning approach to jazz
Further Reading / Listening:
• John Patitucci — bassist scheduled to guest with Wendel at the Village Vanguard in July
• Understory: Live at the Village Vanguard — Ben Wendel (Edition, 2024)
• All One — Ben Wendel (Edition, 2023) — Grammy-nominated for Best Contemporary Instrumental Album
(This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity.)
Lawrence Peryer: I want to start with what might be an obvious question: can you tell me about the genesis of BaRcoDe's—and I hope it isn't offensive to say—unusual configuration of so many mallet players alongside you? I've been curious since I first encountered the record whether you were motivated by the sonic possibilities, or whether you had certain soundscapes in your head that required this particular instrumentation to realize. Could you talk about that?
Ben Wendel: I would say it's a combination of things. I received a writing commission from the Jazz Gallery in New York. The great thing about that organization is that there are really no strings attached in terms of what you can create. Personally, I always love trying new things—things that are a little outside of my comfort zone. I just naturally gravitate toward that.
The first thing that prompted the idea was noticing a significant emergence of a new generation of mallet players on the scene. That instrument, let's say, maybe hasn't been at the forefront as much over past decades, but more recently there are just absolutely incredible players coming up. So that was on my mind. There are also influences—I went to the Eastman School of Music, and some of my closest friends were in a percussion ensemble that eventually became a group called Sō Percussion, which comes right out of that new-music, classical minimalism, percussionist aesthetic. That has always been in my ear.
And in fact, so much so that there was a time I was asked to produce a series of concerts in Munich, and I actually set up a collaboration between my band Kneebody and Sō Percussion. So those were the things building up to it, and I just thought it was the right time to give it a try. But what I was excited about was not just the instrumentation—wanting to explore that—but the very rare occurrence of putting together four master improvisers on these instruments. You see plenty of examples of new-music percussion quartets in the classical field, but it's very rare to see all of these great improvisers come together in a band.
I was really excited to see what would happen if I wrote music that reflects my writing and that aesthetic, but then put it in their hands and put myself in the middle of it. That's how it all came together.
Lawrence: For those four individuals in particular, what previous relationships, if any, did you have with them? Or was it more about selecting them purely for their musicality?
Ben: I was very intentional about the people I chose. I had worked and recorded with Joel Ross quite a bit, and also with Simon Moullier. I remember going to Joel first, telling him my idea, and asking if we could talk through all the great players on the scene and what each of them brings to the table. After that conversation, I had a list of maybe fourteen or fifteen names. As I checked out more and more players, I was essentially looking to assemble—and I'll use the term loosely—the Avengers of mallet players. I didn't want players who were aesthetically redundant. I was looking for players who each brought their own voice, instrumentation, and approach. Then, with Joel's help, I would think about a particular person and ask: do you think personality-wise they would be a good fit, in terms of being a true ensemble, a real team effort? And slowly that emerged. Patricia Brennan I had never worked with before, and neither had I worked with Juan Diego Villalobos.
But between the four of them, I suddenly had this really wide palette to work from. Simon with his one-of-a-kind trademark vibraphone and use of effects pedals, Patricia with her extended techniques and use of effects pedals, Juan Diego with his deep knowledge of folkloric percussion from Venezuela—between the four of them, I could see the possibilities. That's how it came together.
Lawrence: How much of the work—other than the Jobim piece—consisted of compositions you already had versus new material written specifically for those voices?
Ben: I wrote all of that music, including the arrangement of the Jobim piece, for that ensemble and that specific group. And the writing definitely reflects that—the written parts, the forms, the percussive elements are all a nod to that ensemble.
Lawrence: Tell me a little bit about the title BaRcoDe—and especially the visual logic of the capitalization. At the risk of bringing meaning where maybe there isn't any, or just trying to uncover what you were thinking: is there something you're suggesting there? Is there a conceptual framework, or are you just playing with words? I see you laughing at me already. (laughter)
Ben: Well, I have to credit Patricia with coming up with that name and the capitalization. It kind of reminds me of a quote from a Rick Rubin book where he says sometimes the artist doesn't know why they did something until it's done. So when she presented that suggested name, instinctively we—we were all in a group email together—we all said, "Oh, that's perfect." But for no reason other than it just felt right.
Upon further reflection, though, one could actually point to some meaning behind it. The most obvious thing being that these mallet instruments are made of bars. What this ensemble is doing, I think, is creating a new kind of language through this instrumentation—because they're improvisers, it's a sort of code being created. And I think even the quirkiness of the capitalization is a nod to the quirkiness of the project itself. All of that made sense later, once it was done. But initially we just thought it was a really cool name and a cool way to write it.
Lawrence: That's such a satisfying answer. Thank you. Tell me about the sessions and the lead-up to them. You got a lot done in a short period of time, but I suppose that's fairly common in jazz and creative music. You talked earlier about how this work was created for these particular voices and players. What did they receive coming in—had they been sent music beforehand, or concepts, or did you approach them cold? I'm curious about how they prepared.
Ben: As a composer, I tend to prefer having compositions mostly done—the vision complete and making sense. Not everyone is like that. Some people love bringing in sketches and seeing where it goes. I always leave room for that, because ultimately, especially with a group like this, I didn't really know what it was going to sound like until we played, and there was adaptation, there was adjustment.
But in the case of this music, some of it is actually very complex and challenging, even from a reading standpoint. I have a tune called "Clouds" that's highly technical in terms of the melodies. And the "Olha Maria" arrangement is a beast—upwards of six pages of reading for the players.
So preparation was essential. I wrote the music, completed it, made demos, prepared the charts, and sent everything to them well in advance of premiering the music. I even set aside a full-day rehearsal, which is fairly rare in New York. Typically, if you were to have a rehearsal there, it might be a couple of hours. But this was so unique—we spent a whole day set up at the Jazz Gallery, from around ten in the morning to six in the evening. Working through the music. And then we played it for four sets over two nights, and by the end of that, it really coalesced and came together.
Lawrence: When you mentioned making demos, I was curious about that. Are your scores traditional notation, or are they graphic and visual? And what does your composition and demo process actually look like?
Ben: In the case of this music, I mostly used Logic, and Logic has a music notation component, so you can transfer information between Logic and Sibelius. So it was a little bit of going back and forth between those two. And I chose some very silly built-in mallet sounds from Logic's basic library—nothing too fancy. With these players and this music, technically they could have done all of it and prepared without even having demos. So the demos were just a bonus—something for them to work with.
Lawrence: The Jobim piece is interesting for multiple reasons. One, the length. Two, the fact that it's the only piece that isn't your composition and isn't part of that group of original material, although you did arrange it for this group. Can you talk about the thinking behind including it—what was drawing you to it, and what about this specific ensemble made it the right choice?
Ben: First and foremost, especially with a group like this, I like the idea of including one piece that's an arrangement, just to give the listener a reference point. I thought this is a really different kind of group, and if I show what this group can do through a song the listener might already know, maybe it sheds a different kind of light. There was a little bit of that—showing it through a different prism. That piece is also just one of my favorite compositions of all time, and I've always been looking for a reason to include it on an album. Even the original version of that piece has a lot of arpeggiation, so it was really well suited to an ensemble like this.
So for those reasons, that's what pulled me toward the piece. And in that arrangement, I did write some additional material—there's a solo form that doesn't exist in the original, and the intros are a little different. I kind of molded it to my needs in terms of length. We did a version where the solos were half as long and the piece was a bit shorter, but ultimately, when we got to the end of recording the longer version, it just felt better. It felt like: let's just live in this space for a long time, let's just be in this meditative world. It was more just a feeling.
Lawrence: And that sonic environment is really a kind of luxury afforded by those particular players, because of the use of effects and extended technique. You have so much opportunity to explore sound.
Ben: Yeah, absolutely. Between those four players and what they're playing, and then obviously I'm using effects too—there's a lot there. As I discovered through doing this project and being in the middle of it for the concerts, there's something just highly hypnotic and trance-like about the effect of those instruments. It kind of reminds me—it's a bit of a stretch—but if you've ever been to any kind of ceremony that has singing bowls. You know, sound baths, gongs. It kind of has the impact of that, but also just the impact of percussion, which can really do that too. So it lives somewhere right in between, and it has a really hypnotic effect. I wanted to lean into that.
Lawrence: I didn't see any photos of the Jazz Gallery performances. How were you configured on stage? Did you stand in the middle of a semicircle or something like that? Because what you're describing sounds like you really had the opportunity to live in that soundscape.
Ben: Yeah, it was heaven. That's exactly what it was—this massive semicircle with a five-octave marimba, three vibraphones, a balafon, percussion, and I was just dead center, bathed in it.
Lawrence: So many harmonics. That had to be really something.
Ben: Yeah. And for everyone who was there, the live impact of that ensemble is really something. People who attended the concerts commented on that quite a bit.
Lawrence: Something else you said about the Jobim piece that I really appreciate is how you talked about molding it to your needs. To me, that's such a sign of a sturdy composition—that its melody or its construct can withstand that kind of adaptation. I love that about a piece: you can put it in these different contexts and it still holds its identity, but it can be translated.
Ben: Yeah, it translates. And a piece like that, the harmonic movement is very much in the spirit of Bach. There's a sturdiness to it, in the same way that Bach's writing continues to work and live on across many different instruments. Jobim has that too. The structural core of his compositions is just right there.
Lawrence: I'm curious about your experience as a player in Los Angeles. When I think about that scene—and this isn't just in the contemporary era, it's always struck me as a very pragmatic, working-musician kind of vibe, because of the entertainment industry and the confluence of musical cultures. Has that element of the scene impacted how you think about orthodoxy in jazz or in creative music? Do you feel your palette is wider for that experience, or is there something intrinsic about Ben that would have made you the composer and player you are regardless?
Ben: I was raised in LA and came up in that scene. I've lived in New York for—let's see—about fifteen years now, so I've had a real hybrid experience. I would say my professional path and all the different things I've done along the way, not just in the jazz world but outside of it, is more just a reflection of me. I'm a huge fan of experiencing great music and learning through any genre, and I'm very open to collaboration in that way. I always have been.
LA and New York really represent different things, and if anything, I learned different things becoming a professional in LA—just as you said, there's a tremendous amount of industry-related work. So a lot of the skills I developed growing up really served me well during that time: studio work, playing in tune, the fact that I played bassoon and multiple woodwinds, being able to sight-read well. All of those things definitely had an influence on me.
But also just the randomness of life had an influence. When I was fourteen, I became friends with a guy named Terrace Martin, who was going to Santa Monica High School with me. Because of our friendship and our shared love of the saxophone and music, he introduced me to his world. He started taking me down to Leimert Park in the Crenshaw District, where there's a club called The World Stage, which Billy Higgins ran for many years. So because of Terrace, I was suddenly playing with folks like him. Terrace ended up becoming a really prominent hip-hop producer—he produced Kendrick Lamar and worked with Snoop Dogg—and it's because of Terrace that I got to work with Snoop Dogg and things like that.
There was an openness in my mind to it anyway, and then the circumstances of life exposed me to some amazing things that really set my path. Then I came to New York, and New York became a portal—working back in LA professionally and then working internationally. That opened other doors. Suddenly I was playing at the Village Vanguard and collaborating with musicians on the New York scene. It's been a long and winding path. Fundamentally, I think it's just my personality and openness to different genres. As Duke Ellington said, there are two types of music: good music and bad music. I've never really shied away from dipping into different worlds if I think the music is compelling.
Lawrence: It's interesting, because I speak with a lot of artists who come from classical training or a conservatory background who have to be very intentional about maintaining their open-mindedness and their interaction with improvisation. And a recurring theme in those conversations is that it has evolved generationally—it's not as closed and single-minded as it was, say, twenty years ago. I'm curious about that for you. Were you at all put off by mindsets at conservatory, or was Eastman not oriented that way?
Ben: Well, again, that was just a really lucky moment—and an interesting one. When Eastman started their bachelor's degree in jazz, they decided to bring in two graduates of CalArts: Ralph Irizarry, the trumpeter, and the pianist Michael Cain. And Eastman at that time was absolutely this old, awesome, conservative institution committed to giving you a rigorous education. When you left, you were going to be a consummate musician. So there was that. And then Ralph and Mike brought this completely different West Coast, Charlie Haden open-mindedness—this questioning of everything. What does it mean to be an artist? How do you find your path? At that time, they were really challenging neoconservatism in the music, and for the people who went to school during that period, myself included, it was a really thought-provoking time.
Luckily for me, I was exposed to both sides and benefited from both sides. But ultimately, where I've landed in terms of how the music has evolved for me is a combination of who I am and how I've reacted to things that came into my life. In that moment at Eastman, I was presented with a lot of information, a lot of things to think about in terms of individuality versus tradition—acknowledging that we are on a continuum, that I cannot musically exist without what has come before me, but then asking: what does that actually mean, and how do we find our own place within it? I ultimately don't think I'll ever have the answer to that. And I would question anyone who says they do, because I think it's an ongoing process.
Lawrence: Yeah. The answers are dead ends.
Ben: So, to your point, I certainly have seen the barrier between classical musicians and improvising musicians become much more porous, and that's been lovely to see. There are so many great new-music ensembles that have emerged in the last couple of decades that really point to that—just an absolute openness to improvisation, and a comfort with playing outside of genre in ways that just weren't traditionally done before.
Lawrence: On the topic of education: teaching seems to be something truly vital in your career. It doesn't strike me as something you do on the side to make ends meet, or that it's opportunistic. There seems to be a lot of intention and energy devoted to it. What do you find yourself returning to thematically when you talk to younger players? What's the urgent thing you feel you need to impart to them?
Ben: That's such a good question. I was joking with a friend the other day—often when we teach, and for me one of the reasons I'll continue to teach even though I don't do it as much as I used to, it's funny how it's like looking in the mirror. You start to tell them what you intuitively know they need, and you realize, "Oh, yeah. This is a good reminder for yourself. You should be thinking about the same things." I love that cyclical part of the process—the teacher also remains a student and can learn new things through teaching, and the student can show you something.
Every student is different and on a different path. Some have just really pragmatic technical needs that need to be addressed. Others—their worst enemy isn't their ability but their emotional state, and they'd be better served getting out of the practice room and maybe reading some books, doing some therapy, or taking a hike. It's a really fun and important process to teach, and a very delicate one. I think anyone who teaches this music has a great responsibility to protect what it is and also convey that information in a way that lifts the next generation.
Lawrence: That's such an expansive definition of the teacher's role, and it resonates with me because I've personally had those experiences—whether with music and not having a teacher who was a good fit or who was sensitive at the individual level, or in my academic career. I can remember, over thirty-five years later, sitting in a classroom and having a professor completely derail me from the path I thought I was on with what she probably thought was just an exasperated, glib comment. It probably says less about my determination—or more about my lack of it—but the impact a teacher can have is fascinating. Good, bad, and otherwise.
Ben: Yeah, it's huge, and I know many people whose paths were changed by bad experiences. I can also speak for myself—I've had some quote-unquote bad teachers, and I realized later they were actually really helpful, because everything I didn't like about what they were doing helped me figure out what I did like. There was a clarifying fire to their badness that ultimately served me. But yes, it's a great responsibility.
Lawrence: I wanted to ask you about the Village Vanguard. Whenever an artist has performed or recorded there, I try to talk about it for a minute—about the room, the history, the weight of being a saxophone player on that stage and in that tradition. I don't have a specific question, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on it and what the Village Vanguard means to you.
Ben: For me, the experience has been such a positive one. First, there's the honor of being invited to lead a band there. Having played there many times now, and recorded an album there—I remember the first time I was leading my band there, Lorraine Gordon was still around. There's Lorraine's table, which is always this one particular table, and there she was.
I was walking to the stage and was definitely scared, but something amazing happened that really reminded me of the times I got to play with Billy Higgins. I got on stage and suddenly felt like all of the spirits in that room, and all of the music that had been played there, were this lifting, supportive energy.
It was like, "Do it, man. Be yourself, express yourself, lean in." The emotion I finally felt on that stage wasn't fear—it was something else entirely. And Billy Higgins had that too. When you played with him, he conveyed the message of this music through his playing in a way where if I was having a bad day or feeling down, the moment we started playing and I was living within his beat, I suddenly felt joy and community and collaboration.
The Vanguard is a really open version of that. You get on that stage and you suddenly feel this amazing mixture of gratitude and powerful history, but support too—all the ghosts in there, all the spirits in there, are friendly. That's my experience with that club, and it has remained that way. Every week is really magical and special.
Lawrence: Is it true that when you're booked to play there, you generally know very, very far in advance? And what does that mean in terms of what you're going to present—is it a long lead-up, or are you at the point where you're comfortable and it's just another engagement? How do you think about it knowing it's looming?
Ben: I always like to use each week there well, and yes, they book way in advance—one to two years out. Because it's such a special opportunity to play six nights, I try something different each time: a different band, a special guest, something new.
Not everyone is like that—some people always bring the same band, which is also beautiful and a different kind of thing. For example, I'm going to be playing there in July, and I'll be playing with a lot of musicians I've worked with before, people I have a long history with. But I had this opportunity to bring in a guest, and John Patitucci is going to play bass for that week. We've been talking about doing something together for a really long time, so I thought this was a perfect opportunity.
Lawrence: Tell me a little bit about working with Steve and Nate Wood on the post-production. There's something of a community and a world there now. I'm curious what your shared history with them contributes—or makes possible. It doesn't feel like, "I've heard there's this professional cat, I'm going to call them up." It feels like there's an element of safe hands and deep understanding. I'd love to hear your take on that.
Ben: Steve Wood is an incredible engineer, composer, and producer with just the most amazing ears. And his son, Nate Wood, became this incredible musician who is also a great engineer and mastering guy. They're a really powerful combination—I jokingly call them Chip Off the Old Block Productions. (laughter) They have different aesthetic strengths and things they love, but the combination is really potent.
I've done a couple of albums with Steve at this point. I always go to him when I have something that feels more orchestral in nature—he's just a master of creating space and depth for ensembles like that. He mixed my album All One, which received a Grammy nomination a couple of years ago, and that was a perfect example. I was stacking upwards of twenty to thirty saxophones and bassoons, creating these little miniature orchestras and inviting guests, and he was able to take all those voices and place them in a space.
When the BaRcoDe project came up, I thought this was just perfect for Steve again—making all of those instruments, which have really wide stereo sounds, fit within a mix. He was a really important part of that. For the first time ever, he was actually at the recording sessions, which was incredibly helpful. The way we set up all the instruments strategically during the recording actually set the template for the album. It even required a conference call between the tracking engineer, Steve, and me to work out how we were going to approach it.
And Nate has mastered many of my albums—he's a perfect aesthetic match for what Steve does. I really think of them as a powerful combination. I do feel in safe hands when they mix and master my records. Honestly, relative to a typical mixed jazz album, they bring a really elevated, produced aesthetic to my albums that I think sets them apart and brings out the nature of the music and the ensemble. I'm really grateful to work with them, and to be lifelong friends with them.
Lawrence: When something like All One receiving a Grammy nomination happens, do you have any sense, as the creator, of "this is the special one"? Do you have any feel for the why—what made that record connect? Was it intention, or did you reach some particular peak?
Ben: I don't think so. It's kind of a strange example, but it just popped into my head: Maurice Ravel's most famous piece is Boléro. He wrote Boléro as an orchestral warmup piece. Did he think that would be his most beloved work? Definitely not. Where I'm going with this is that the artist makes the art, is proud of every single thing they do, and tries to make it as clear an expression as possible of what they're hoping for—and then how the world takes it and reacts is completely out of your hands. The thing you're most proud of and think might do well doesn't. The thing you're more conflicted on, where you're not quite sure what the message was—that does really well. Once you release it into the wild, all expectations are gone.
I loved getting the nomination, and it's wonderful to receive that recognition. But why it happened for that one and not another—your guess is as good as mine.
Lawrence: Something else I wanted to ask you about is the relationship with Edition Records. As a listener and as someone who speaks with a lot of artists, I've noticed a real increase in the adventurousness and consistency of what comes my way from them. There's something about this record that feels very Edition to me: on one listen, it's very accessible—it's not shallow. You can spend time with it and find the challenge and the substance in it. And that seems to be a hallmark of what they do. I have very similar experiences with other artists on the label—"this is easy for me to consume," and then when I spend real time with it, there's so much more. I love that. It makes you want to trust a label, and that's always something I've loved as a music lover.
Ben: I'm curious how you think about audience—and I don't mean that in a marketing sense. I mean in terms of: do you ever have a visualization of who you're playing for or who this might land for? Are you completely in a vacuum and you don't think about audience at all?
Lawrence: I'm really curious about your relationship—psychologically and otherwise—with listeners.
Ben: Personally, in the time we live in, I tour around the world playing so many different venues, and I find it impossible to fully grasp. Every time I do a tour, I meet people, and there's always a portion where it's sort of linear—here's a saxophone fan, or someone who's a Kneebody fan, or someone who's drawn to the compositions. But then there's this whole other component where I don't know how they found their way to me, and that feels indicative of the time we're living in. You put things out, and the strangest things come back. Generally speaking, it's kind of along the same lines as your question about the albums and what gets an award and what doesn't. It feels a bit uncontrollable. I guess if you really stayed in one lane and that lane was much more focused aesthetically, you might be able to say, "I can expect these kinds of audience members in these types of venues." But in terms of what I do, it's been pretty eclectic—so the result is pretty eclectic.
Regarding Edition—I would say that the consistency in terms of who I've worked with and what I've done is really about finding people with like-minded philosophies. Dave Stapleton, who owns Edition, is a great musician in his own right, and what you're experiencing is his taste and his aesthetic—his own openness and the things he loves forming that catalog. He gravitates toward people who look at music in a way that's not too segmented. He picks people who are open, who try new things with each album and keep exploring. So the catalog has a sound to it.
Lawrence: Absolutely. As a listener, I may not be able to articulate it verbally, but I can perceive the Edition story—I definitely feel it.
Ben: Totally. And it makes a lot of sense when you think about the artists. So I definitely fit that mold, and that's why we've had a really nice run of albums. This would be number four, actually, so it's pretty cool.
Lawrence: That's something these days.
Ben: That it totally is. (laughter)
Lawrence: If the shoe were on the other foot and Joel came to you and said, "I need to put together the saxophone Avengers"—and he's in the middle—could you do it?
Ben: Oh, I love this. (laughter)
Lawrence: Could you do it?
Ben: Yeah, totally, absolutely. That would be a really fun conversation, depending on what Joel would want.
Lawrence: Are you going to give me any names?
Ben: Oh, who I would choose? (laughter) I'm not shy about that, but there are just too many great players doing so many great things. I'd probably give them a minimum of thirty names.
Lawrence: It always seems like—between the saxophone and the piano—we're never left wanting. There's always a bounty of great players.
Ben: There really is. I remember having a conversation once with the great John Ellis. We were trying to theorize how many great sax players there are today with their own individual voice—we had all these parameters—and that alone was already a massive number. And then if we set that aside and just count players who are unbelievably incredible professionals, who can play anything and you might not necessarily recognize them but they're remarkable—we passed a thousand really fast. (laughter) It's a big saxophone world, and I never feel like I'm lacking inspiration or fire under my heels.
Lawrence: It's interesting—because I had a few minutes and I like to go down rabbit holes, I looked back through the three hundred or so episodes we've done here and looked for clusters by instrument. I was very surprised to find the harp—there are so many interesting harpists working today. Certainly pianists, certainly saxophone players, but it was an interesting exercise. And it made me think it would be fun to assemble the Avengers where the common thread was: I've spoken to them all. (laughter)
And what you said also really resonated with me—because I do have the same experience where I'll run into someone who has heard the podcast or heard a specific episode, and I'm taken aback. I actually get embarrassed because I never really think about the fact that there are listeners. I do this every week, year in, year out, and it's like—oh, right, of course, if I'm going to put it out there, someone's going to listen.
Ben: I'm just shocked too. The internet is such a weird place. I have a Google alert for when my name comes up, and just the strangest stuff—a random five-minute interview after a show that I didn't think twice about, and then five years later someone comes up and says, "Oh, you remember when you said that?" Or a show I didn't even know was recorded, and suddenly a transcription pops up. It's just a wild thing. You put it out there, and you don't know how it ever comes back.
Lawrence: Last thing I wanted to ask you: does BaRcoDe point toward any specific direction for you? I didn't want to ask the obvious question—what's next—but I'm more interested in your style of approaching projects. Do you work linearly, or do you have several concepts at different points on parallel paths, and at what point does one move to the foreground?
Ben: That's a good question. I always have two or three ideas ahead of me that I'd love to pursue at some point, so there's always something coming down the pipeline. And for me, it's still largely about whether something is still genuinely different. I'm still in the process of doing things that expand the discography rather than things that feel more like: you did a quartet album, here's another quartet album. So it's linear in that sense—I can see the things I'd like to do ahead of me. And pulling it off is more about capacity and having the time in the midst of an active career.
Lawrence: And who else is available.
Ben: Yeah, all of those things. I kind of know what the next thing is, and logistically it's going to be a beast. Who knows when that thing will be done, but hopefully it won't take too long.