King Midas

Picture a child’s face as he plays a video game—eyes glued to the screen, lips pursed then mashed together, body contorted as he jerks the controller for better leverage. Now put that face on a thirty-six-year-old bald man and set him behind a drum set, eyes squeezed shut then wide open, a smile creasing his face as he looks over at the saxophonist and bassist on either side of him. Imagine this manic, almost childish energy coming from a jazz band at the Artists’ Quarter in St. Paul one night in September.

“Tonight it’s all cinema, Mike,” the drummer, David King, tells saxophonist Michael Lewis. Which is vintage Dave King, because when he plays with this band, Happy Apple—or any of his bands—it’s never just about the music. Happy Apple is between songs, and Lewis is sweating and visibly drained. King gives him a breather and introduces the next song, telling an imaginative anecdote involving the Scandinavian history of the previous tune, “Lefsa Los Cubanos.” Leaning against the piano, Lewis knows that King could continue the sometimes wry, often silly banter for another five minutes. Later, King kids bass player Erik Fratzke. “You sound like Flea,” King says, referring to the bassist with the Red Hot Chili Peppers, a pop band that has little in common with Happy Apple. The audience, ages eighteen to eighty, howls with laughter.

When King leads the band back to the music, he does it with such furious momentum the break is immediately forgotten.

King writes a good chunk of the music his bands play—besides Happy Apple, there’s his other jazz group, The Bad Plus, and his electronica/pop band, Halloween, Alaska. At the same time, few musicians cover Ornette Coleman with the earnestness they cover Black Sabbath, LL Cool J, or Nirvana. King does, though maybe it’s more accurate to say he covers them earnestly with a wink. But then King’s covers aren’t about defining a musical style or attaching himself to a genre. They are about acknowledging music that informs his own. King is known throughout the jazz world for his improvisational skills, which draw from a dizzying repertoire that includes everything from bebop to nineties pop. For King, there’s no bourgeois or high-brow music, no elite school of rock, no exclusive church of jazz. King is about sound and making good music, not about making good jazz, good rock, or good electronica, though he makes all three.

In the Twin Cities, King is at the forefront of a growing number of rock-influenced jazz musicians who are attracting younger crowds than their more traditional jazz counterparts. Highly regarded in the music industry worldwide, King has worked with major-league producer Tchad Blake, whose work on The Bad Plus’s 2004 release, Give, yielded a Grammy nomination. King has recorded at Peter Gabriel’s British studio three times. Happy Apple has won nine consecutive Minnesota Music Awards. King himself has won multiple MMAs for best drummer. And, as the drummer for several unique bands, he does more than keep time. He’s acclaimed for something unexpected of a drummer—a sense of humor, a playful presence, and the skill and command to take the lead.

Happy Apple’s set list at the Artists’ Quarter this evening, for instance, includes witty, always entertaining compositions that jump musical genres and involve detailed storylines—a neat trick for tunes without lyrics. The titles give a clue: “See Sun Spot Run,” “Tang: The Astronaut’s Drink of Desire,” “Take Wes Chandler for Instance,” and “If This Is Love, It Isn’t.”

Progressive or experimental jazz often sounds free and reckless, but King and his bands carefully select and play each note and beat. Though both Happy Apple and The Bad Plus are considered progressive jazz trios, their sounds don’t exactly compare apples to (happy) apples. The Bad Plus features a standup bass and piano, Happy Apple an electric bass guitar and sax. And while The Bad Plus does improvise, it tends to stick to its elaborate compositions; Happy Apple is rooted more in experimentation and improvisation. Both bands, though considered jazz, definitely rock—and often.

Though some of King’s music is “out there,” he keeps it relatable by playing covers of popular music—with significant improvisation, of course. The Bad Plus covers Nirvana and Black Sabbath; Happy Apple performs snippets of songs by everyone from David Bowie to Gwen Stefani; and Halloween, Alaska’s Too Tall to Hide album includes a rendition of LL Cool J’s “I Can’t Live Without My Radio.”