CADENCE WEEKLY NEWSLETTER 020 -

The Independent Newsletter of Creative Improvised Music

Issued Weekly on Fridays

In this issue -

Audio Interview - Conversation with John Abercrombie - Guitar

Streaming Series - Sounds Delicious; Boston Area with Joan Watson-Jones

Photo Gallery - Day One of the Vision Festival by Ken Weiss

Feature Interview - Justin Chart

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Audio Interview

CMR Podcast 010 - Conversation with John Abercrombie - Guitar

Streaming Series

SOUNDS DELICIOUS - Improvised Music and Vegan Cuisine

EPISODE THREE - Boston Area with Joan Watson-Jones

Photo Gallery

2026 Vision Festival, New York by Ken Weiss

Photos from day one of the 2026 Vision Festival June 23 at Abrons Art Center NY, NY

From the upcoming feature article in the October issue of Cadence Magazine -

Day one was a celebration of guitarist/bassist Joe Morris

By Ken Weiss

Matthew Shipp -Joe Morris - Willam Parker

Matthew Shipp

Joe Morris and event organizer/dancer Patricia Nicholson

Hidemi Akaiwa

Hidemi Akaiwa - Joe Morris - Matt Rousseau - Rob Brown - Hery Paz

Feature Interview

Interview with Justin Chart

by Charles Mobley

Hello everyone! I’m Charles Mobley, a West Coast jazz writer. Today I am sitting down with a true powerhouse of modern jazz—a visionary alto saxophonist, composer, and a key figure in modern hard-bop and West Coast jazz. He’s widely known in jazz circles as “The Blizzard” for his explosive tone, soaring velocity, and sheer harmonic ingenuity. Jazz Europe rates him as one of the top modern-day hard-bop saxophone masters in the world. Signed to Universal Music Group, his catalog spans brilliant releases like Colorstorm, Avenue, Prosper, Night Heat, and Justin Chart & The Jazz Emissaries. Hello Mr. Justin Chart.

Justin: Hi Charles, I’m so glad that we’re going to do this. I want to thank David at Cadence Jazz World as well. It’s great to be here to connect with the readers.

Charles: Justin, let’s jump right into that nickname—”The Blizzard”. When people hear you play live or listen to your recordings through Universal Music Group, or your early work with Decca, there’s an undeniable rush of kinetic energy. How did that moniker come about, and what does it represent for your approach to the horn?

Justin: It really came out of the West Coast jazz scene early on. When I take a solo, I’m not just thinking about playing a string of notes; I’m aiming for an avalanche of emotion, dynamic energy, and spontaneous creation. A blizzard is fierce, it’s unpredictable, but it has this incredible, sweeping structure to it. That’s what I want the listener to feel—that feeling of being swept up in the eye of a musical storm. I am honored to be among the few jazz players with a nickname.

​Charles: I must say it is a very elite club. Most that are in it are true icons, and you certainly deliver that. But what strikes me is that alongside that high-octane velocity, you have this incredibly seductive, familiar harmonic edge. It’s hard-bop at its core, but it’s completely modern in color. I have listened to your extensive discography and you write some of the most beautiful ballads, with magnificent melodies, how do you strike that balance?

​Justin: It comes down to respecting the lineage while refusing to be a museum piece. I grew up immersed in the heavyweights—Charlie Parker, Cannonball Adderley, Jackie McLean, Lou Donaldson and Art Pepper. You have to have that vocabulary in your bones. But when I pick up the alto, I’m bringing today’s energy, modern colors, and my own life experience to the table.

​Charles: Let’s talk about your improvisational philosophy, because critics frequently point out that you are a master of “elegant and enticing extemporization”. You often capture entire albums live or in a single take without heavy studio safety nets. What goes through your mind when you step up to the mic with no safety wire?

​Justin: Absolute presence, Charles. To me, pure improvisation is the highest form of trust. When you step into the studio or onto a stage, if you’re thinking about what you’re going to play two measures ahead, you’re already in the past. All of my albums are live, even the studio records. It’s just one take. The only difference is the studio albums don’t have an audience. ​I treat improvisation as real-time composition. I’m writing new melodies, modulating harmonies, and changing rhythm structures right there in the moment. When we recorded albums like PROSPER, Night Heat, or Today’s Tomorrow, the goal was to capture that raw, unbridled lightning in a bottle. Once you start over-dubbing or editing every single phrase, you lose the soul, the dangerous edge that makes hard-bop so thrilling. I feel the blessing of the magical moment of the music.

Charles: That “dangerous edge” really shines on your recent work. When you look at projects like Justin Chart & The Jazz Emissaries, featuring legendary bass master Putter Smith, tracks like “Curious Changes” or “Thrivin’ in Five” have this incredible conversational flow. How do you cultivate that level of dynamic trust with your band?

​Justin: It starts with choosing players who aren’t afraid to jump off the cliff with you. Putter Smith is a titan—his time, his tone, his instinct. When you have a rhythm section that locked in, it gives me complete freedom to push the limits of the horn. We don’t just back each other up; we’re having an active, high-stakes dialogue.​

​Charles: I want to turn our focus to Europe, where your footprint is massive. You’ve played iconic festivals across the continent—Lugano Jazz Festival in Switzerland, Sildajazz in Norway, Jazz in Marciac in France, Ribe Jazz Festival in Denmark, Varna Jazz Days in Bulgaria, and La Villette in Paris, just to name a few. What is it about the European audience that connects so deeply with your music?

​Justin: European jazz listeners have an astonishing reverence for the history of the art form, but they also have a tremendous appetite for bold, uncompromising expression. When you play a festival like Lugano or Sildajazz, the audience is listening with every fiber of their being. They catch every subtle re-harmonization, every dynamic shift, every nod to hard-bop heritage.

Charles: Justin, I see you have known some heavy hitters in the jazz world! Can you tell a how “Sweet Papa” Lou Donaldson was a part of your jazz world

Justin: I would be happy to Charles, I have been listening to Lou since I was a kid. From the record New Faces New Sounds to Swing n Soul, to Blues Walk and Gravy Train, Alligator Bogaloo, and the list goes on! It is a wonderful story and yet a bittersweet one. I met Lou back in 2021, he was a true gentleman and I had been on a gig in Florida where he was at the time. He was 95 at the time, he was retired yet he was still very vital. I had a copy of my CD COLORSTORM VI on me and I gave it to him, we had a wonderful conversation. I could have spoke with him for days, I was so interested in everything about him, yet I wanted to respect his time. I gave him my CD and my number.

A week or so later he did call me to tell me he really liked my music and if I may quote him,

“Justin, you have a deep respect for the tradition of jazz while forging your own path.” I am so honored that this Man, a legendary musician took the time to listen and reach out to me. He was and is a true jazz treasure.

Charles: Is it true your touring days as a sideman are over? You have toured with some of my favorite acts, The Grass Roots, Paul Revere and the Raiders, Nancy Sinatra, and Coolio, it must have been incredible to play with Nancy!

Justin: Those days were great and I had a blast, for sure. Nancy is a classy elegant lady, with a golden voice, a true Sinatra. These days I prefer to have artists play for me on my albums. I have some incredible cats playing on my sessions these days!

I am recording these days, both live and in the studio.

Charles: Tell me a story, a night you remember, one that hits you where you live.

Justin: The basement door at the back of the alley was completely unmarked, except for a subtle brass knocker. If you didn’t know the rhythm of the knock—three quick taps, a beat, then two slow ones—you were just standing in a damp alley smelling of rain and roasted coffee beans. But if you knew the beat, the heavy oak door would creak open, revealing a huge Man, who’s good side you wanted to be on, then a stairwell lined with weathered velvet curtains.

​At two in the morning, the rest of the city was turning down its lights, but downstairs, the night was just beginning.

​The air was thick with the rich aroma of aged bourbon, and the warm, electric buzz of tube amplifiers. It was an after-hours haven, a sacred space off the books where touring legends, local virtuosos, and night-owl purists gathered without setlists or schedules. No contracts, no cameras, there were phones, but they weren’t smart yet, —just pure, unfiltered music.

​In the corner, sitting behind a battered Steinway grand piano, a veteran pianist with a beard that ment business and fingers like velvet, hammered out a moody, chromatic stride pattern in G minor. Beside him, a bassist leaned over his upright, plucking deep, resonant walking lines that throbbed right through the floorboards.

​Sitting at a small round table near the edge of the stage, I was sittin at the bar with my alto, I popped a reed in my mouth and casually set up my horn. The polished lacquer reflecting the amber glow of the Edison bulbs overhead. I just breathed in the atmosphere—the quiet chatter of the room, the clink of ice in rocks glasses, and the hypnotic cadence of the rhythm section pulling everyone into their orbit.

​A subtle nod crossed the room from the drummer, who transitioned into a crisp, driving bebop swing on the ride cymbal. The energy in the room shifted instantly; the musicians knew it was time.

​I stood up, stepping onto the low wooden platform. I usually close my eyes when I play, I took a deep breath, and let out a single, lingering blue note that cut through the haze like a beam of light.

​The speakeasy went dead silent, except for the rhythm section.

​What came out of me, a language of pure emotion. I started slow, leaning into warm, lyrical melodies that painted pictures of late-night city streets, and old memories. Then, with a sudden surge of whatever was inside of me, my fingers began to fly over the keys.

​Twisting bebop runs, unexpected harmonic shifts, and fiery blues bends that had the old-timers at the bar shaking their heads in utter admiration. I was swingin hard!

​”Yeah, man! Tell ‘em about it, Justin!” shouted a voice sitting by the bar, raising a glass of rye.

​The piano player caught the spark, responding to my phrases with sharp, punchy chord voicings, I was pushing the horn to its absolute limits, and the force took me—from deep, buttery low tones to screaming, soul-drenched high notes that thrilled every life force in the room.

​When I brought the solo down to a soft, lingering cadenza—a solitary, golden phrase that faded gently into the air—the room erupted. Snapping fingers, cheers, and the heavy applause of musicians who didn’t impress easily, and that is sayin a lot, filled the speakeasy.

​Then I smiled and stepped back to let the trumpet player take the next section. I took a sip of my drink at the bar, listening as the jam session rolled on into the quiet hours before dawn, where the music never really stopped, and the spirit of jazz lived forever.

I miss that place, it was a true anachronism. I’m not going to mention the name,I want to protect it’s innocence and it’s non-innocence, if ya get my drift. I’m sure many of you know it.

Charles: OMG! That was somethin else!! So vivid. I was feeling like I was right there with you. Joining the Universal Music Group roster was a huge milestone in your career. How has having the global backing of UMG impacted your ability to share your vision with a worldwide audience?

​Justin: It’s been transformative. As an independent artist, you spend so much energy on the mechanics of distribution. Partnering with Universal Music Group allows the music to reach every corner of the globe simultaneously—from Europe to Asia to right here at home. It gives a platform to pure hard-bop and acoustic jazz on a scale that truly honors the art form. The perks of a record deal don’t hurt either. At this stage of the game I find it truly rewarding experiencing a major label having my back.

​Charles: Looking back across your prolific discography—from early recordings like The February Feeling and COLORSTORM, to The Scarlet Jazz Room, Avenue, INTUITION, and Born of the Horn and I thoroughly enjoyed your album “Soul Scene” with Bill Cunliffe—what keeps driving your creative motor?

​Justin: The horn is an infinite universe. I feel like I’m still discovering new shades, new harmonic pathways, and new ways to communicate raw human emotion. As long as I have breath in my lungs and stories to tell, I’m going to keep pushing, keep playing, and keep bringing “The Blizzard” energy to the stage.

​Charles: Twenty-six albums is a massive milestone. When you look back at album number one compared to your latest release, what do you hear in your tone and approach that’s evolved the most?

​Justin: You know, on those early records, I was firing on all cylinders—just raw energy, trying to play every note I knew as fast as I could. The hard bop spirit was there, but it was aggressive. Over twenty-five records, you learn the art of space. The tone got deeper, the blues roots settled in a bit more, and I stopped trying to prove what I could play and started focusing on what the music actually needed.

​Charles: That restraint definitely shows, but you’ve never lost that signature fire. Critics constantly point out that despite the huge catalog, no two records sound recycled. How do you keep the hard bop idiom feeling fresh without straying from its core roots?

​Justin: Hard bop isn’t a museum piece—it’s a living, breathing pulse. It’s rhythm, heart, grit, and harmonic sophistication. As long as you bring your real, current life experience into the studio, the music stays fresh. Different bandmates, new cities, different heartbreaks and triumphs—they all filter through the horn.

​Charles: Critics often praise your studio albums for having the raw, explosive energy of a live gig. How do you capture that “live lighting in a bottle” inside a controlled studio setup?

​Justin: We avoid overthinking it. We set up in the same room, minimal isolation, so we can hear and feel each other naturally—just like on stage. The moment you start over-analyzing a solo in the studio, you lose the soul of hard bop. You need that edge of danger.

​Charles: That “edge of danger” is exactly why your discography stands out as one of the finest in modern jazz. Well, record twenty-six “Solitude in Sound” is a masterpiece, my friend. Here’s to the next 100. Does that crowd energy change how you improvise in the moment?

​Justin: 100%. Improvisation is a conversation—not just between me and the rhythm section, but between the stage and the room. If the room is cooking, I’m going to stretch those blues lines a little further, push the tempo, hit those high-register accents. You feed off that collective atmosphere.

​Charles: You’ve built a fiercely loyal worldwide fanbase over the years. What’s the most gratifying thing a fan has said to you after a show?

​Justin: Oh, Man, there have been so many wonderful and meaningful exchanges, once a young player came up to me after a set recently and said, “I didn’t know music could feel that honest.” That hit me right in the chest. That’s what hard bop is all about—unfiltered honesty. If people leave the hall feeling connected to something real, then I’ve done my job. I love making people happy! Over the years thousands of people, fans and listeners have told me of the joy I have brought into their live. That is truly why I do it. I can feel the energy,be it from the crowd or from the musicians in the moment.

Charles: Do you have any advice for young jazz musicians trying to make their way as artists in the jazz world?

Justin: I see and hear many young cats out of all of the prestigious music schools. Yes, they have chops, and they know their theory and they can play Miles and Coltrane note for note. They spend years learning how to copy the masters; however, they will never become one because they never develop their own sound, or their own style. There are a few tenor players saturating social media showing off how fast they can play. They have forgotten how important a great melody is, and taking time to work on your tone is so important for everyone.

​Charles: Powerful words from one of the best to ever touch the horn.

​Justin Chart—master improviser, Universal Music Group artist, and one of the finest alto saxophonists of our era. Thank you so much for sitting down with us today, Justin.

​Justin: Thank you, Charles. It’s been an absolute blast!

Charles Mobley - Jazz Historian - July 2026

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