Blues and jazz is a way of life for me; I learned blues from the time I was born and raised in Chicago—the classic and legendary blues town. Jazz was an acquired taste that came later in life when I got toward the last few years of high school. I actually got a full music scholarship for my jazz guitar playing and it’s how I got to college. I played jazz all through my college years in big bands and combos, although blues was and still is in my veins in every way possible. College is also where I developed the natural gift for teaching, and I knew it was what I would be doing for my career eventually, along with playing guitar. After I graduated I taught elementary school, and eventually taught at the university level. And that pretty much led me to where I am today, although I am skipping quite a few major events over the years. What I have learned about myself is kinda what I knew instinctively all along—that I was naturally born to play guitar and that I would spend my life doing what I do— playing and teaching what I know intuitively and what I have learned cognitively through academia and just living.

What experiences in your life make you a GOOD JAZZMAN? What means to be a Jazzman?

Learning from listening to records, imitating to the best of my ability, going out on the streets to see how I measure up to the big boys, keep your mouth shut and your ears open, kick a few butts on stage, take a few whippings too, get stronger and go out at it again, learn more and more through trial and error, and then pass all you accumulated on to the next generation when you’re done gathering enough stones to help someone who wants to do what you do but needs help getting there. Being a good teacher is the other side of the coin of being a good jazz player.

"If you dig deep enough, or even barely start scratching on the surface of all things musical, what you find underneath damn near every style of music is the blues."

How do you describe Wayne Goins sound and progress, what characterize your music philosophy?

My sound is a mixture of a whole lot of things—old school 50’s Chicago blues guitar, old school traditional jazz guitar from the 40’s, modern bebop from 50’s, soul music from the 60’s, funk and rock guitar from the 70’s, reggae rhythms from the 70’s, I guess all that’s mixed up in my playing somewhere. To me, a good jazzman is one who looks well beyond jazz to help define his unique jazz voice. At some point, the word “jazz” itself becomes limited and doesn’t really apply anymore. So much of the best stuff jazz offers comes from outside the parameters of “jazz.” So in some sense, it’s all “jazz” and at the same time none of it is just “jazz.” Duke Ellington and Pat Metheny taught me that. Ultimately, its about being open and receptive to any and all of it, which sounds like a lot, but at the same time it comes down to just two categories, what’s good to your ears and what’s bad to your ears.

Which is the most interesting period in your life? Which was the best and worst moment of your career?

One of the most interesting and fulfilling things was when I started my own record label, Little Apple Records, I started it about ten years ago. All six of my albums are on it—studio and live recordings too. I learned a lot in the process of starting it up, mainly that you can get a lot done if you do it yourself and not wait on that ultimate record deal from the big boys, especially now that the old-school model of “making it in the business” is all but gone now. Most interesting thing in my life at the moment, though, is happening right now—I just finished a great book on the blues guitarist Jimmy Rogers, who played in the Muddy Waters band. No book has ever been written about him, and I can’t wait for this to come out in September, it’s going to blow some people’s mind, I think—I hope, anyway. It’s been long overdue. University of Illinois Press is releasing it. And my new project is a book on the musician Taj Mahal, who, to me, is the embodiment of world music—forty five years of the widest variety of American and global music you can imagine, and he’s still going! He’s a living legend, and I’m so excited about having had the chance to meet him and his family to write his full biography, which has never been done. As for worst events in my life, I can’t think of any really bad things at the moment, there’s only been good things, mostly.

Why did you think that the Jazz and Blues music continues to generate such a devoted following?

Because its one of the few real things left in the world. And because a few of the best, most creative and smartest and youngest of the newer generation are hip enough to see the value in it, keep things moving in its proper direction, in spite of the over-populated numbers of least-common-denominator sameness we hear in other styles of music. Blues is in the blood of America, and Jazz is the only truly American art form we have, you know.

"Blues and jazz is a way of life for me; I learned blues from the time I was born and raised in Chicago—the classic and legendary blues town." 

What’s the best jam you ever played in? What are some of the most memorable gigs you've had?

Meeting and playing with Kenny Burrell at Royce Hall on UCLA campus for his 75^th birthday bash was a thrill. Near the end of the gig, there were seven of us guitarists on stage at once, all lined up across the edge of the stage, with Kenny smiling in the middle of the line. It was special. Wolf Marshall was the one who made sure I was there for that, so thanks, Wolf.

Which meetings have been the most important experiences for you? Which memory makes you smile?

Meeting Kenny Burrell at a hotel in Atlanta in the early 90’s to interview him, and not even turning on the tape recorder because he just said, “no, man, let’s just talk.” He ordered up some room service, we ate club sandwiches, and drank ice tea. He proceeded to lay some of the most fantastic stories of jazz history you’ve never heard in your life, He told me, “the true story of jazz is yet to be told,” and I knew he meant it. That man is SO deep, I tell you. Being invited to join jazz organist Jimmy McGriff’s band was a thrill—having to turn him down twice because I was finishing my degrees in college wasn’t a thrill. Getting to know Pat Metheny after writing a book about him was and still is a great thrill. Meeting Bill Cosby backstage and watching how nice he was to my wife and two daughters was fantastic. I used to teach his son, Ennis, to play bass when I taught at Morehouse College in Atlanta back in the early ‘90’s. Playing with tenor saxophonist Joe Lovano when I was working on my PhD at Florida State University was awesome. Doing a recording with the legendary vibraphonist Lionel Hampton in Atlanta during the early 90’s with the Clark College jazz band was really cool—he actually gave me the honors and let me take the first solo! Obviously, the man knew how to show generosity to a young, ambitious guitar player, after having the honor of indoctrinating Charlie Christian into the world of the Benny Goodman band. What a sweet, sweet man he was. And what a showman!

Are there any memories from recording and show time which you’d like to share with us?

The very first album I recorded was a memorable one. It was in Atlanta in 1991 with the harp player Jerry “Boogie” McCain, who was the real deal, let me tell, ya. He was on Ichiban Records and was recording for John Abbey, the guy who owned the label. John was the road manager for James Brown back in the day. I got the session gig because the bass player, Lebron Scott, was a former bandmate of mine back in the days when I was going to University of Tennessee in Chattanooga, I got both my Bachelors degree and Masters in Music Education there, between 1982-1985. Lebron wound up playing with Lenny Kravitz when he toured with the Let Love Rule album. So I picked Lebron up at the airport from that tour and we went straight to the studio and recorded the entire album in one night. That was my first. I wound up on more than twenty albums for Ichiban Records over the next several years in Atlanta.

What are the differences between the local scenes from Boston, Chicago, and Atlanta to Kansas?

Nothing at all. They all have active but extremely tightly guarded blues and jazz scenes that a good musician can jump in on— but slowly and carefully. You go to the hotspots in town, find the cats who are the heaviest, and you work your way into the system by playing your ass off until they allow you into their inner circle. You get to know who’s who, show up on time, make every gig, be reliable, be nice to people, show respect to your elders, and don’t forget the people who helped you when you first started making your bones in that town, and you will make it alright in any city you go to.

What do you miss most nowadays from the music of past? What are your hopes and fears for the future of music?