Brian Nova is a world-class jazz guitar virtuoso and vocalist, and on Octave Records’ latest, They Say It’s Wonderful, he takes listeners on a nostalgic musical journey through a varied set of 13 favorite jazz standards and other songs. The live-in-the-studio set captures Nova’s inspired playing and the sympathetic accompaniment of bassist Ron Bland and drummer Mike Marlier in what has become Octave Records’ signature sonic realism, spaciousness and dynamic power.
Brian Nova is a Benedetto guitar artist and educator who has performed in the US and internationally with guitar greats Herb Ellis and Joe Pass as well as Arturo Sandoval, Dizzy Gillespie, Oscar Peterson and other jazz legends. They Say It’s Wonderful features Brian Nova and his trio performing a wide range of favorites including the title track, “I’ve Got the World On a String,” “The Shadow of Your Smile,” and even Emerson, Lake, & Palmer’s “From the Beginning.”

Brian Nova. From briannova.com.
They Say It’s Wonderful was done live in the studio. The album was recorded using Octave Records’ custom-built Pyramix-based 32-channel DSD 256 setup, Brian’s Fender guitar amplifier was miced using a pair of Gefell M 1030 large-capsule condenser microphones, one close up and one at a distance. A pair of Neumann U67 condenser mics were employed as drum overheads, with dynamic mics on the drum kit itself. A Sennheiser MD421 and Gefell M 1030 was used to record the acoustic bass.
The album was recorded and mixed in Pure DSD256 by Paul McGowan, with Jessica Carson as producer and Terri McGowan serving as recording and mixing assistant. The album was mastered by Gus Skinas. As with previous Octave jazz recordings, the emphasis is on conveying the presence, spatiality, tonal balance and dynamic range of musicians performing in a real space. Studio trickery and gimmicks were avoided to allow the full impact of the musicians’ performance to come through. Brian Nova’s voice has a direct, natural clarity.
They Say It’s Wonderful begins with the title track, an up-tempo swinging workout that immediately reveals the album’s sonic signature, with a superb tonal balance, richly textured bass, and clear, open highs. Brian Nova’s guitar has warmth yet clarity, and he’s a master at weaving beautiful chords and inventive solo lines to complement his voice and the band’s adept playing. Next comes “I’ve Got the World On a String,” one of the many songs that showcases his ability to comp to support his expressive singing. “But Not for Me” features some tasty Wes Montgomery-style soloing and outstanding drum and bass work by the rhythm section.
Brian absolutely burns on “It’s Only a Paper Moon,” and also gives space for Ron Bland to take a swinging bass solo that highlights the low-end depth and harmonic texture of his acoustic bass. Drummer Marlier adds some drum breaks that punctuate the song with forward motion. “You Can Depend on Me” shows the trio’s subtle side, featuring a superb guitar solo interlude. Emerson, Lake & Palmer’s “From the Beginning” works surprisingly well as a kind of jazz samba arrangement. Other album highlights include the gorgeous chord-melody intro to “You Can Depend on Me,” a swinging version of “The Shadow of Your Smile” (usually played as a ballad), and the bass and drum interplay on the album’s closer, “Just Friends.”
They Say It’s Wonderful features Octave’s premium gold disc formulation, and the disc is playable on any SACD, CD, DVD, or Blu-ray player. It also has a high-resolution DSD layer that is accessible by using any SACD player or a PS Audio SACD transport. In addition, the master DSD and PCM files are available for purchase and download, including DSD 512, DSD 256, DSD 128, DSD 64, and DSDDirect Mastered 352.8 kHz/24-bit, 176.2 kHz/24-bit, 88.2 kHz/24-bit, and 44.1 kHz/24-bit PCM. (SRP: $29.)
I talked about the album, music, and guitar with Brian. We could have talked guitar for hours.
Frank Doris: I'm a guitar player also, so I had a great affinity for this album. I can't believe what a good player you are.
Brian Nova: Oh, thanks. Well, I was very lucky. I had great mentors and opportunities when I was coming up through the ranks. I grew up in Seattle and I started up just like most. I'm 64 now, and we grew up in the rock and funk era of the Sixties and Seventies. I lived in the part of town where everybody was pretty much listening to funk, so some of my influences growing up were Earth, Wind and Fire, James Brown, that sort of thing. [Then] we moved to a part of town that was more rural, so they were listening to country rock. Then I ended up going to high school at a private school, and all those guys listened to was the Who, the Stones, Zeppelin, that kind of stuff. So I really had this potpourri of music kind of swirling around me as I was growing up.
And it was literally my girlfriend in high school and part of college and her mom; they were both very hip, and [one day] her mother says, “would you like to go see a real jazz guitar player?” I'm thinking, yeah, I don't want to see some old 50-year-old. I was 19, right. So 50 to me was like, ancient, we'll start the mummification process. And I remember seeing Herbie [Herb Ellis] get up on stage there, and he was fussing with his cuff’s lengths, and he was fussing with his collars and pulling his pant legs down. He just couldn't get comfortable.
I was like, oh man, I was laying odds, eight to five, this guy has a heart attack. He looked like he was not going to make it. And they tore into [the first song] and it was so burning that I still have a nick on my chin where my jaw hit the table. And I've been chasing after it ever since.
Growing up, [I thought], how do I get to this guy? And I finally did. I got to him, and over the years he would come up and visit, and every time he'd come, he'd spend a little more time with me. And by the time I was in my mid-twenties, we'd become steadfast friends. He was almost like a grandpa to me.
And he took me on the road. I started doing short jaunts with him to Portland, Lake Oswego. Then it was a little further, Boise, Sacramento, I traveled more and more with him.
FD: So you backed him up like Lou Pollo did with Les Paul.
BN: Exactly.
FD: So, I assume you had some playing ability before you started playing with him!
BN: I did. My heroes early on were anyone from Steven Stills and John Fogerty to George Benson. When Breezin’ came out in 76, that was a seminal record for me.
FD: Did you learn with a teacher or by picking out songs off of records?
BN: I had a teacher, but my father also played; he was a weekend warrior musician. I'm half Hawaiian, so we always had musicians, Hawaiian musicians, singing and playing around the house. And so I was constantly asking those guys questions all the time. How do you do this? How do you play that? I also played bass. Herbie introduced me to Ray Brown, Oscar {Pettiford], all those guys. I was doing front row one-on-one lessons with anybody I wanted to learn from.
FD: Were they encouraging, or…
BN: Very encouraging. We're on the road one night, and he was just like, “Brian, jazz is sort of a calling. It's like a flag you hold up in the air and say, ‘I'm a jazz musician. I'm a jazz guitarist.’ And you're not doing this because you're looking for fame and fortune. You're doing this because it's your calling. If you can do that, you'll survive. If you go into this looking for fame and fortune, you're not going to find it here. Or if you do, it's going to be a hell of a price to pay.” And I remember that, and I’ve carried that with me my entire life.
FD: You're never going to be Billy Joel or Taylor Swift playing jazz guitar. And I think a lot of people don't “get” jazz. I mean, I know that sounds condescending…
BN: True. I think it's partially the musicians’ fault. I do a lot of clinics. One of the first things I tell the young kids is everybody that listens to jazz thinks that there's some sort of inside scoop or inside secret, and that if you don't get the inside secrets, you don't get jazz. That's been perpetrated by jazz musicians over years.
And I tell them, if you really want to unlock the key to your audience, you have to unlock that whole idea of there being a secret, or if you're going to carry around that idea, let your audience in on the secret, whatever that is, make it so that they're coming along with you. So many people think, oh, these guys are just doing something and I don't understand what it is, and they apparently don't want to tell me, so I'm going to go listen to something else. And you don't blame them. You don't have to serve 'em with a platter, they just want to have a map of some sort.
FD: Well, you do have to be technically adept. But once you start looking at jazz, yeah, it's not a mystery. Maybe people want to keep their knowledge a secret just because they've worked so hard to get so good. I mean, I've been playing guitar for 57 years and I couldn’t cut a jazz gig.
BN: Well, it's all just approach. If you’ve spent 30 years approaching music in one direction or several different directions, whenever you're faced with an alternate direction, it always seems weird. And guitarists are pattern-oriented; we will always tend to take the patterns we know and are familiar with rather than try to throw the patterns out.
That's the key to real jazz improvisation, because when you're walking down the street humming a tune, you're not humming out of time. You hum in time. So if you can learn to play what you hum, you will always play in time and play what you want to play.
FD: I should talk about your record! What gave you the impetus to do it?
BN: It was hilarious. I've been carrying around vinyl for 40 years. I wanted to start listening to my vinyl [again]. So I wanted to get a stereo and had been doing some research. I did a concert in Vail, Colorado, and Paul and Terri [McGowan] were there and came up and mentioned, “hey, we have a new studio in Boulder that's state of the art.” I’m thinking, oh, great, here's some rich folks that just decided to get into the studio business. But Paul said, “well, my name's Paul and I make PS Audio.” Of course, I'd heard of PS Audio because I had been on YouTube looking all over the place for stereos. So we worked out a deal [for me come to the Octave] studio.
And I have two pals of mine in Denver, Mike Marlier and Ron Bland, who are marvelous, monster players. I always wanted to do something with them. And I told Paul, I'd love to do some of my favorite jazz standards just as a trio, just one take, sort of like a snapshot. There were a couple where we did two takes, but most everything we did…we ran it through once, just so that Ron and Mark and I are on the same page, and we recorded the second version, and that was it. Paul wanted it really organic. He wanted it just as if we were playing in a room. And then we went at it, and I told Paul, “if you really want a true jazz record, this is it. This is pretty much [the same as if] he went to a jazz club and recorded a trio.
FD: How hard is it to play guitar that intricately and sing at the same time? I could hear in your singing that there was spots where, all right, it's a little…it's not perfection. It's not like you went in there and did 20 or 30 takes…I definitely got the sense that you were just letting it fly. I know people do all kinds of studio manipulation, like an Eagles recording where they actually spliced in two syllables of one word.
BN: I was on a session where I saw a very famous rock star sing nine versions [of a song], and then they went back and [the producer] said, “OK, take the first three words of the lyrics off of take number six, and then I want to take a word of off take two, then let's take the next three words off of take 11, and then we're going to go back to take two and take the syllable. They literally put together one chorus off [all those] takes.
BN: I sing stuff a lot more flawlessly live. But singing in the studios, it's a whole ‘nother thing. And singing at 5,000 feet for someone that lives in Seattle…
FD: I hadn't even thought of that. Oh man. The first time I went to Denver, I went up a flight of stairs and I was out of breath. Somebody said, “it's not you, it’s the air!”
What made you decide to do Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s “From the Beginning?”
BN: I've always liked that song. One time I played it, I kind of was goofing around with the chord changes and stuff and I thought the song would sound so pretty as a really slow bossa nova.
FD: Your guitar tone is really clean and clear. What kind of amp did you use?
BN: A SeQuel. The guy that makes them is from Seattle and kind of an electrical engineering genius. It’s so hard to get a sound that cuts through stuff, but doesn't sound thin.
FD: So many old jazz guys like Jim Hall would just roll the tone control all the way off.
BN: Herbie Ellis was the worst. He played through this Polytone piece of crap that just…it sounded like putting a nice amp in a shoebox. And I was like, “Herbie, why do you do that?” He told me, “every club I play in and every night is different. At least with the Polytones, they always sound the same no matter what room you're in, and as long as I know what it's supposed to sound like, I can play it. The worst is when you show up at another place with a different amp and you can't get anything near your sound.”
Herbie introduced me to Joe Pass, and Joe was the guy that I ended up really cutting my teeth with the most. Joe took me on the road, we did duets.
FD: Oh my god. With Joe Pass?
BN: Yeah. Joe was the guy who introduced me to a lot of the players that I ended up touring with like Jimmy Smith and Eddie Harris. Joe was a tough old Italian East Coast guy that did not suffer fools well. I remember one time we were playing, in Germany, I think, just the two of us on stage. And I played something really fast, and he looked at me and he stopped right in the middle of the concert.
He looked at me, he says, “what was that?” I just said it was just something I thought about playing. And he kind of looked at me like, oh. And then went right back into his tune. Of course, everybody laughed. I thought it was hilarious. But I learned very quickly that you better think twice before you start just playing stuff all willy-nilly, because these guys are listening. They're paying attention, and that was great fun. I miss Joe.
Concerning the songs that we picked [for the album], I tried to find some songs that I love to play and sing that either I hadn't recorded before or that don't get recorded much. So many songs as you know today are overplayed.
FD: Who are some contemporary players that you like?
BN: I hate to admit this, but I don't listen to a lot of the contemporary guys. I've heard Julian Lage, and what has impressed me about him is I've heard some of his intros into songs where he's playing some chordal movement and harmonies that I thought were very nice. Sometimes when these guys get into the song, then it's sort of like, ah, I don't know what you're up to now. But he obviously is a great player and understands chords wonderfully. And let's see…[pianist] Emmet Cohen. I love how playful he is and how open about what he does.
FD: I like Tal Farlow.
BN: I got to play with Tal a couple of times, and I really loved it. Another guitar player that always got beat up, but I loved a lot was Barney Kessel. Barney could be mean. He didn't suffer fools at all.
FD: Didn't he play with Sinatra?
BN: He did. He played with everybody.
If I'm going to listen to jazz, I'm putting on my old Joe Pass records, or I'm listening to Wes Montgomery or Grant Green. Wes is my man.
One of the guys that I never got to see. I never got to meet, was Johnny Smith. I always wanted to make that trek out to Colorado. His music store was kind of Mecca, because I'm a huge fan of Johnny's. In fact, my father had a Johnny Smith [model] Gibson, Johnny Smith, and that's what I learned to play on. Once I got a gig my dad said, “you're not taking that out of the house!”
FD: You play a Benedetto guitar. How did you get turned onto them? (Benedetto makes some of the world’s finest archtop guitars.)
BN: I ended up meeting Howard Paul, another great jazz guitarist, who’s the president of Benedetto. Howard and I ended up on a bunch of stuff where we were playing together, and he just looked at me one day and said, “you need to be a Benedetto guitar artist. Dude, I'm going to build you a Brian Nova model Benedetto.” And that's what I've been playing ever since.
FD: I’ve got a story for you. I once saw Bucky Pizzarelli playing a seven-string Benedetto at some trade show party event, and everybody was ignoring him except for about a half a dozen people. I was one of them. And we were just riveted. During the break, I introduced myself, told him how much I loved his playing and said, “I’ve never seen a Benedetto in real life before. That's a really nice guitar.” And then he just looked at me and handed me the guitar. I'm like, oh my god, I can't believe this guy is handing me this $15,000 guitar, somebody he doesn't know from anybody.
BN: Good for Bucky. That's what a real musician would do. Instead of it being a mystery; so many of the jazz musicians would be like, “oh yeah, well, go become famous. Get your own guitar.” [Handing that guitar to you was] the right thing to do.