Mar/Apr 2007

Live from Williamsburg

He has a home-based recording studio, tons of nearby friends, and gets great lyrical inspiration from the locals. It’s no wonder Bruce Hornsby never wants to return to 'Hell-A.'

By Michael Jon Khandelwal

Down a winding, tree-lined, country road in Williamsburg, a large white house leans into the surrounding forest. A basketball court takes up space on one side, and on the other is a smaller building with sunny windows and an open door—this is the studio where Bruce Hornsby makes his music.

Hornsby, 52, was born in Richmond and grew up in Williamsburg. At 30, he scored a record deal in Los Angeles, and the rest of the world quickly discovered what Hampton Roads knew all along—this guy is good.

Soon after making it big, he returned home to the Peninsula and now makes music and a life for his family in his hometown. Hornsby lives in Williamsburg with his wife, Kathy, and 15-year-old twin sons.

After three Grammy Awards and more than 10 million albums sold, he is refreshingly fun to hang out with. In his wood-paneled studio, he tinkers with a song in the control room with his engineer, Wayne Pooley. In the live room of the studio, he points out a buffalo head from the Dakotas, bought in Pennsylvania when he was there with his sons visiting amusements parks.

Hornsby settles into a chair behind Pooley and begins to talk about his new music, his love of books, and the affection he has for his hometown, stopping only occasionally to re-focus on a track being mixed for his next record or to tap out a song on the piano.

What direction are you moving into now, musically?

I’ve wanted to make a jazz record for years, so I made one with Jack DeJohnette and Christian McBride—two of the titans of the jazz world. This is the first interview I’ve done in 2007. I have two records coming out, both records I’ve been talking about for years, and they both deal on a deeper level with music that’s always been influential to me. I made a bluegrass record with Ricky Skaggs—that’s coming out on March 20. The jazz record will come out later in the year. They’re very disparate, stylistically, but, to me, they have one thing very much in common—they’re both about virtuosity on the instrument.

I got my degree in jazz music from the University of Miami. I put myself through college by playing wedding receptions and a lot of bar mitzvahs on Miami Beach, and with each successive semester, I got more scholarship money. I also became a teacher while I was a student. I pulled some great pranks when my brothers would come visit me. They would come and sit in as new students, and I’d be really nasty to them, and the students would go, ‘Man, what has gotten into Bruce today?’

I just played there as part of the solo piano tour I did in the fall, surrounding my box set that came out last year, Intersections. It was hilarious. It was where I did my senior recital, and I looked out, and in the front row, about eight across, were all the old teachers, with grayer, whiter hair. They were all giving me the same look, like ‘Come on, let’s see what you’ve got.’ And I thought, ‘Okay, I got you. Here we go.’ It was fun to do that.

What’s your take on the local music scene?

I’m pretty unaware of it. My musical life is so full and so busy, just practicing and trying to get better. Then being a family man—being a dad—I’m really involved in that, too. And I’m a voracious reader. So, there’s no time to be hitting the club circuit in Norfolk. Hell, I’m 53. Who at 53 is going out to Newport News to hear a band? I know my great old friend Lewis McGehee has made an amazing career playing in the region. That’s hard to do—to retain a career for 20 or 30 years. I liken it to his looks. I always tell him, ‘The only reason you’re still able to do this all these years later is that girls love you.’

I get sent tapes a lot, but I’m really a guy who stays out here in the woods and practices and writes and works on music and makes records and goes on the road a lot. Last year, I was gone 185 days. I’m not looking to be a producer. I think I’m a pretty bad producer, actually. So when people ask me to produce them, I always tell them, ‘You don’t want me.’ No one should be interested in me as a producer.

How did you come to be involved in The Tide, 92.3 FM?

I’m just an investor. It’s Tom Davis’ station. The format is called AAA, album adult alternative. Basically it’s the only radio format where you’ll hear Lyle Lovett or Los Lobos or Bonnie Raitt. It’s the only one where you’ll hear new acoustic-oriented singer-songwriters. It fills a nice niche. You would think there’d be a broader market for this type of station, but there are only about 15—20 cities in the country where the AAA format really thrives.

I did a show a few times on the station called “Brunch with Bruce,” but I think it was really unpopular because I was playing all this weird music I like that most people hate. “Brunch with Bruce” has faded away, mercifully, but that’s okay with me. I did have one show where I featured singer-songwriters who I thought could use more attention like Ricky Lee Jones, Randy Newman or Chris Whitley—newer artists who I think are great, but that didn’t help my ratings. It didn’t save my show. All I know is, Tom hasn’t asked me to do it for many months, so I think I’m through.

For the rest of our interview with Grammy-winner Bruce Hornsby, see the March/April issue of Hampton Roads Magazine, currently available on newsstands.