Col. Bruce Hampton, Ret. - Part 3

Slightly Trashy

Offering #2 - Epilogue

What is Zambi?

Not the concept of Zambi - there are many concepts and many are from the people who knew Col Bruce Hampton the best. I am in no way claim to have known him better than anyone else because I most certainly did not but I was, however, deeply influenced by the times I got to spend with him, considered him a close friend and was greatly affected after we lost him.

Its an odd thing to sit and reflect on my own personal perspective on a person that is linked to so many people - which include the people on and off the stage. If you only knew Bruce as “that strange genius who influenced everybody,” you’d be right - but you’d also be missing the part that mattered most. The part that made him more than a musician.

Bruce didn’t just play music. Bruce was applying friction to your identity. He was trying to get you to stop auditioning. He was trying to get you to stop worshipping “respect” when respect turns into a personality disorder. He was trying to get you to go below.

And if you were around him long enough, you realized he wasn’t doing it in a mean way. He wasn’t doing it to humble you for sport. He was doing it the same way a great bandleader does it - because the song - the moment - the room - falls apart the second everybody starts playing “me.”

That’s the part I couldn’t fully articulate for years.. The part that makes all of this relevant. I felt it. I watched it happen in real time. I’ve seen people get frustrated by it. I’ve witnessed people get freed by it. I’ve seen people become addicted to it. And I’ve experienced people become uncomfortable, because the ego does not like being told it isn’t the main character.

And then, ten years after the Fox, in that same basement where I found the magazine Bruce signed.. I found this.

An article written by Rev Jeff Mosier in Hittin’ the Note - “The Definition of Zambi.”

If you knew Bruce, you already know how ambitious it is to even attempt this. Jeff says that right up front - it’s almost un-sacred to try to define something that’s supposed to be experienced.

But he does it anyway. And I’m grateful he did.

So I’m going to include it here in its entirety - not because it’s scripture, and not because it’s the final word, and definitely not because it makes any of this neat and tidy.

But because it’s the closest thing I’ve ever read to a flashlight.

A way to see what Bruce was pointing at, even if you’ve never been in the room.

Read it like liner notes. Read it like you’re not trying to win an argument - you’re trying to understand a language.

And if you take nothing else from it, take this - Bruce wasn’t trying to make you smaller.

He was trying to make you lighter.

The Definition of Zambi - “rev” Jeff Mosier

“Hittin’ the Note” - Issue 33 - Winter 2002

When Zambi fan Jeff Winburg posed the formidable question, “What is the meaning of Zambit?,” “rev” Jeff Mosier - lead of Blueground Undergrass, preacher of Zambit - took up the challenge and offered his version of the answer. While trying to explain Zambi is akin to describing the color red to a blind man, “rev” Mosier did a terrific job defining it without restricting it. After all, Zambi is what it is.

Through Col. Bruce Hampton, his present and former bandmates and friends, there has developed over some years now a phenomenon that has sparked the curiosity of many. Though I feel it somewhat UN-sacred to try and define what only can be experienced, I will take the chance and in a synopsis, attempt to the best of my ability to explain this amazing and life changing idea.

My first level of understanding came when the Col. had me watch the movie Being There, starring Peter Sellers. Ironically, bassist Oteil Burbridge was in the movie. This movie must be watched if you are at all serious about coming to a full understanding. Once I understood the role of Chauncy Gardener and realized that by doing nothing, he in effect was doing everything, I began to understand more.

My second discovery came when the Col. stood in front of the Atlanta restaurant, American Roadhouse. He stood on the curb looking off into space with no facial expression and absolutely no movement. He then looked at me and began to laugh hysterically. He called it “plato-rum.” If I recall, he defined it as “giving great attention without reactive thought, or a state of non-action.” Even then I did not realize what I was in for! Up until this time I had only played only one gig with the Col. The next thing that happened caused me to quit my job and join this new group that the Col. named the Aquarium Rescue Unit. I was honored, as everyone in it but me were amazing players and very accomplished on their instruments. As I began to play this insane, no-setlist performance art-oriented, mental ward soundtrack-sounding mix of American rootsy noises and musical sounds that up until then sounded like devil music to me, in some strange-but beautiful-way, my playing and life began to change in an amazing way. Then I moved to the next step.

Finally, one day the Col. told me the story of Joe Zambi, a parasitologist who lives in Norcross who Bruce met in Florida some years back. For whatever reason, this man represents a modern day Chauncy Gardener to the Col. He is a musician, but the Cols obsession with him doing and being nothing and every. thing has created, through Joe Zambi, a kind of modern musical manifestation of the Tao in so many people who know about Zambi. He is just a guy, but not really. He doesn’t and hasn’t done anything, but really has done so much that words can’t describe. Here’s where I step in and try to the best of my ability explain, on the surface and in a nutshell, how much this means to me personally. To start, it means everything. Everyone who has played with the Col. has been profoundly affected in many ways, some more than others. On an earthly level it would be easy to give the Col. the credit. I do a lot on stage, but I know he doesn’t want it or need it. He has, in my opinion, been a channel for so many, including me, by which we have discovered the meaning of very important musical ideas that most music schools don’t teach. These ideas are about “flow” and “intention.” All we were expected to do on stage with the Col. was to play ourselves, and play with a mix of what he called “recovery” and “release.” “Recovery” being the way you move in and out of improvisational corners and how you get yourself out of musical fixes as you try to intuitively make the music real by making your mistakes your art. Col. would say, “There are no mistakes.” Imagine hearing that as a musician! “Release” is the sense of urgency, emotion, and intention by which you play. If you play with “butt-intention,” as the Col. said, it was YOU.

If you play “face-intention,” then you are playing to please others and not your-self, and usually that is what he would call “cheesefrog.” “Cheesefrog” could be any music that was played for every reason but for the music and for the intention of play-ing. It is “cheesy” in the sense that it will work to gain acceptance from an audience above all else. Ironically though, the Col. would see some “cheesefrog” that was SO “cheesefrog” that he would consider it Zambi. He would say of those artists, “They are laughing their ass off,” or “They know.” “To know” is hard to define. I think it means to know that all is “no-thing” Nothingness is the ultimate element of any music that is considered Zambi. To not be a “thing” is to be oneself, and to be oneself is art. He would point out bands that he said had “hope.” That means they were banking on action and ego and “hope” in something. Having “no hope” in your music and having “hopeless” music are two different things. Having “no hope” seemed to be the key, and being “hopeless” was deemed as self-pity, as l understood the Col. The Col. has affected so many with this idea that the names and bands, if listed, would be staggering. I, for one, was able to play the banjo with freedom for the first time in my life after 1 met the Col. My given Zambi name is “rev” Mosier from the hills of Tennessee, and I will always use it on stage. I hate the name, as l am intrinsically ashamed of the reputation of most reverends. But as time goes on, I see more and more that it is “me,” and it keeps me humiliated at the proper level. I went to theology school and do have faith, but am embarrassed about what so many people do in the name of God. This name, on some type of karmic level, reminds me from where I came and keeps me in the “Zambi” way. All Zambi names are humiliating in some way or another. It’s not bad, it’s just the truth. The Col. calls it “going below.”

But I, like many, do give the Col. credit, as we are so drenched in the Western notion of “respect.” The Col. would not allow us to give him credit and said, “Respect is an evil that corrodes the mind.” The Zambiland Orchestra as a modern day musical notion has been spearheaded and carried on by Apt Q-258, or drummer Jeff Sipe. He has, in effect, created the world’s sickest “company party,” where all of us can go and NOT be from the band that the public associates us with, see each other, and play unrehearsed flow-based music. Of course the “rock star” thing will always draw the masses, but the Zambiland Orchestra is a serious attempt to create a very special and spiritual moment that will allow all of us to follow the flow of the moment, and not try to perform formulated and planned music to impressed anyone. The music is often “out” and sometimes “in.” When it is “in,” the combination of people and instruments make it fresh and real. Everyone attempts to yield to one another in a special way. Blueground Undergrass is the Zambi name for Bluegrass Underground, and we will always have within our music a Zambi influence. The Col. often calls that element the “threat of vomit.” It’s music that sounds like it could go anywhere all at once. It could sound dangerous and gentle and has elements of the flow of the universe that will connect to an audience in a deep and spiritual way. It seems to be driven by what he often called “the invisible whip.” We don’t always accomplish that in BUG, but as the band leader I do keep that in mind with every set list and tune. I would not be playing music if the Col. had not told me about Zambi and trusted that I would not only “get it,” but “go with it.” Zambi is about the flow of life and the emptying of oneself that is necessary to live life to the fullest. I will not be happy until I one day write a complete thesis on the subject, as this definition only scratches the surface. The Col. has plans to move away from Atlanta in the near future, and all of us here in the city will miss him. Though he will be around and we have plans to all play shows together, I will greatly miss eating and laughing with my dear friend and mentor, the Col. Bruce Hampton, ret. Thanks for asking about Zambi. It gives me great joy to share it with you. Share it with others.

Peace and Zambi!

“rev” Mosier

from the hills of Tennessee

CLOSING

If you made it to the bottom of that, you probably felt the same thing I felt when I found it..

Relief.

Not “relief” like thank God somebody finally explained Bruce - because you can’t. Not fully.

Relief like - Oh. There’s a name for the thing I’ve been bumping into for years.

Because once you’ve been in enough rooms - music rooms, work rooms, relationship rooms, internet rooms, whatever - you start noticing the same disease show up in different outfits.

It’s ego.

Not the cartoon version where ego is just arrogance and peacocking.

The real version.

Ego as fear.
Ego as image management.
Ego as the constant need to be perceived correctly.
Ego as the impulse to turn every moment into a performance review.

That’s what modern life feeds all day long.

And in my opinion - (This isn’t actually science) - And that’s why Zambi hits like it does. Because Zambi is basically a refusal. A refusal to treat “attention” like a drug. A refusal to treat “respect” like worship. A refusal to treat “being somebody” like the point of being alive.

“Respect is an evil that corrodes the mind.”

That’s not him being edgy. That’s him being specific.

Because “respect,” in the wrong hands, becomes a shortcut to worship. And worship is just ego wearing church clothes.

You want to honor somebody like Bruce?
You don’t do it by mythologizing him.

You do it by practicing the thing he was actually trying to hand you. Which is - stop performing yourself long enough to hear what’s happening.

Stop trying to be the most important thing in the room.

Stop treating “being seen” like being alive.

And here’s the part I can’t get away from - the part that keeps this from being just a cool philosophy inside a niche music world:

Zambi is not a music concept.

It’s an operating system.

It’s what you do when you’re tempted to post before you think.
It’s what you do when you’re tempted to have a take before you have a relationship.
It’s what you do when you’re tempted to make your identity the headline of every room you walk into.

So if you want a practical little “Slightly Trashy” way to try this without moving to Norcross and becoming a parasitologist..

Here’s my final charge for this whole offering -

The next time you’re about to grab a microphone - literal or digital - pause.

Give great attention without reactive thought. Ask yourself, honestly.. Am I playing “butt - intention” or “face - intention” right now?

And if you don’t love the answer.. Go below.

Not forever.

Not in a self-pity way. Just long enough to remember: you’re allowed to be a person again.

Because the whole point - the reason Bruce mattered (and matters still) - wasn’t that he was a myth.

It’s that he kept trying to free people from needing one.

Peace and Zambi.