Bass Player (August 2000)

Growing up doubtless

No Doubt’s Tony Kanal gains taste & maturity

This summer marks 30 years since Tony Kanal was born and 15 since he took up bass. For nearly 14 of those years, Tony has played in the service of No Doubt, a band that began in Southern California's third-wave ska underground and became one of the defining groups of '90s pop. With the 1995 Interscope album Tragic Kingdom, and its worldwide, bass-heavy hits "Just a Girl," "Spiderwebs." and "Don't Speak," No Doubt seemed to come from nowhere to international stardom. But this was no overnight success; Tony and his bandmates had struggled to make it since high school.

The first two radio hits from No Doubt's followup album, Return of Saturn, show a promising musical range-from the driving punk of "Ex-Girlfriend" to the sensitive rock of "Simple Kind of Life." But delving into Saturn reveals a lot more: a band that has moved toward more refined, creative songwriting, and a bassist whose heightened melodic sense, judicious use of space, and increasing ease with the group's stylistic mixture of rock, reggae, and new wave reveal a self less approach. "There are parts on the album I feel I can be proud of," says Tony. "Not lines that show off what I can do, but parts with an intricacy and emotion I never thought I could play."

The calm, serious expression Tony wears just barely hides the bubbling energy and excitement beneath-his speech is liberally decorated with superlatives like "amazing," "incredible," "awesome," and "phenomenal." Nonetheless, he overwhelmingly communicates a sense of being grounded, the kind of personality you'd expect in a good bass player. Kanal has an ease with his emotions-from the thrill of taking his parents to India and playing a show their family and friends could see, to the disappointment on that same trip, when some Indians, still saddled with generations-long colonial mindset, treated his European-descent bandmates with a deference he was not afforded. No Doubt's incredible success has let them see the world and experience hard work and struggle-including the suicide of an early bandmate. That range of feelings is increasingly present in Kanal's bass lines. From the driving, energetic eighth-notes to moments of melancholy reflection to surreal new-wave fun, Tony's lines give energy and life to Saturn's broad emotional range.

Born in England, Tony Ashwin Kanal moved to Orange County, California, when he was ten. He credits his dad for fostering his love of music, from playing records when young Tony couldn't sleep to encouraging him to take up saxophone in middle school. At the end of 9th grade, Tony's jazz band teacher needed a replacement for his graduating bassist. "Dave Carpenter was a phenomenal bass player," remembers Tony, noting that his former classmate is not the same Carpenter as the prolific sideman who's played with Al Jarreau and Peter Erskine. "Plus he was a cool guy and all the girls liked him, so I put my hand up." In order to catch up with his classmates, who had all been playing for a few years, Tony spent the summer in a crash course on his new instrument, guided by band teacher Mike Stouffer, and Carpenter, whom Tony still meets occasionally for lessons. "Dave was the one who taught me how to play bass. I wouldn't play the way I play if it weren't for him."

After a year of playing, a friend approached Tony about joining No Doubt. In March 1987 16-year-old Tony joined the crowd watching No Doubt's first show at Fender's Ballroom in Long Beach. He auditioned for the band a week later, and in two weeks he was playing No Doubt's second show. "I gave up saxophone soon after," he smiles. Playing in No Doubt turned Tony into a bass nut. He finished his three years of high school jazz band, learned all of Flea's lines on the Red Hot Chili Peppers' Uplift Mofo Party Plan, and increasingly turned his attention to making music from the bottom up. "I love bass-bass-heavy recordings, bass as an instrument. I wouldn't want to play anything else."

We met Tony at his Los Angeles home, a nicely redone Mediterranean on a modest lot that speaks more of Tony's contentment with his success than of stereotypical rock-star opulence. The tastefully framed No Doubt memorabilia on his walls shows Tony as a media-savvy veteran of many magazine covers shared with his bandmates vocalist Gwen Stefani, guitarist Tom Dumont, and drummer Adrian Young. But Tony had his doubts about being on the cover of Bass PLAYER. "I've never been a musician's musician. Most of the people on the BASS PLAYER cover have amazing music-theory knowledge, and I don't. I think I've been able to grow and maybe do some cool stuff because I've played with the same group for so long. I'm comfortable, and I've been able to experiment and try everything."

How would you describe your playing style?

I'm definitely a rock bass player influenced by punk. I always try to stay melodic so the bass line can stand on its own but at the same time provide that foundation for the rest of the band.

We're a rock group with a reggae/ska side and a new wave side. When we started we were part of this underground ska scene. But we all came from diverse musical backgrounds, and we knew we wouldn't be able to contain ourselves. We had to explore and experiment. I think of us as a true American rock band that's heavily influenced by British music.

Do things you learned in high school jazz band - such as how to walk or how to interpret a harmony - help you in No Doubt?

Absolutely. All of that comes in to play. But when you're in your own band and writing your own music, you don't think about that stuff when you're writing your bass lines. You're not thinking-it's just coming out.

I struggled through jazz band. I had to switch to bass clef, and I wasn't a great sight reader. Plus I was spread kind of thin: I was on the swim team, editor of the school paper, and for the last few years doing No Doubt. After high school it was purely rock & roll: playing in No Doubt and making up my own bass parts, simple as that.

Playing in jazz band was never my thing, but that's what they have-there's no rock band in high school. Theory never came easy for me; it still doesn't.

That's surprising your bass lines sound like you have a good command of harmony.

That's probably because I've been playing with No Doubt for almost 14 years. I'm comfortable with the people I play with, and that makes all the difference. If you took me out of No Doubt and put me in a studio situation, I'd have a hard time.

But I have total confidence in what I'm doing. When slapping was big in the early '90s, playing was about proving yourself and showing your chops. I was really into that-I wanted to be able to do all that stuff, and I was okay at it. I slapped on our first record. It was much more of an ego-driven way of playing bass. Now I understand my role: to make good bass lines for the song I'm working on at that moment. My job is to make a bass line that supports the guitar, drums, and vocals and leaves space for them, too. I feel I've been successful in making that transition to where playing is more about music than ego. And since I've made that, I feel confident in what I'm doing. This new record has been my most comfortable record making experience.

Was there a point when the light bulb came on?

I think it just comes with time and maturity, but 27 months on the road for Tragic Kingdom had a lot to do with it. When you've been out that long, you've tried every song, every way.

Who are your bass influences?

Before I was in No Doubt I listened to a lot of pop music, like Michael Jackson and especially Prince-Prince is my idol, my favorite. I still love all that stuff, but when I was 16 and got into No Doubt, Eric Stefani, who started the band, exposed me to a whole new world of music: Madness, the Specials, the Selector, Bad Brains, Fishbone, Red Hot Chili Peppers, ska, punk, thrash, funk, all that stuff: I remember feeling so vibrant, like I'd finally found my thing and the whole world opened up. All those bass players made such an impression on me: Flea, Fishbone's Norwood Fisher, Horace Panter from the Specials, Mark Bedford from Madness, Darryl from Bad BrainsFlea being the foremost.

What did you get out of Flea's playing?

At that time his slapping blew me away. The cool thing about Flea is how he continues to grow from record to record. By the time you get to Blood Sugar Sex Magik, it's so musical. Back then, as a young man, it was all about the energy. From the slapping to the fingering to his beautiful melodic soloing, he's phenomenal.

I don't want to sound immodest, but I feel I've made that change myself. One thing that helped me was listening to the Cure. The bass work of Simon Gallup and Michael Dempsey showed me you don't have to play crazy, complicated lines to have beautiful, melodic bass parts that say so much.

What was recording Return of Saturn like?

We got home from the Tragic Kingdom tour, took two months off, and then started writing in February '98. We rented a house in the Hollywood Hills and set ourselves a work schedule: Monday through Friday, from one in the afternoon until we were exhausted. It was surprisingly strict. We wrote a bunch of stuff, went in the studio that summer, and recorded seven songs. But we realized it sounded too similar to Tragic Kingdom-we hadn't pushed ourselves hard enough. We wanted to grow as songwriters, as musicians. All the bands we've ever admired always seemed to grow and take chances from record to record, and we didn't feel like we had done that, so we scrapped it. We started writing again, looked for a new producer, and spent all of 1999 recording the album with Glen Ballard.

One thing the Tragic Kingdom success afforded us was the financial and creative means to make this record the way we wanted to. When we record Adrian's live drums, I play with him for the energy-but I like to redo my bass parts sitting at the board with the producer. That way I can really concentrate on everything and make sure it's the way I want it. Sometimes I'd spend days sitting with Glen and trying one thing after another. I'd put down bass lines, then a week later say, "Fuck it-it's way too busy," or, "I could improve on that." That's part of why it took so long. But it was great to be in a creative environment where you can try different things and then decide. Tragic Kingdom was completely different. We made that over three years while we were all going to school and working day jobs. We all wanted the backup plan; I was studying psychology at Cal State Fullerton. It was a struggle-we were pressed for time and money. Once in a while the record company would give us money to record some songs. This time we were able to take our time.

There are places on the album where you play just a few notes for a bar or two.

You hit a certain point where you realize space is just as important as notes. You hear so many amazing bass players say that all the time, but ultimately you have to realize it for yourself. It's like being a father: You can't go to school to learn how. It just comes with life, from watching your dad or watching other men do it, and then being there for your kid.

How do you write?

Usually I sit in a room with Gwen and play bass while she sings, or Tom will play guitar with Gwen. Once in a while it'll be all three of us, and on this record Gwen wrote a few herself It's a very organic process, just bouncing ideas off each other. We bring them to the rest of the band and start building from there. We'll try everything every way - rock, new wave, reggae-staying open-minded to see which style fits the particular song.

Tom's the one who really studied music theory in high school and college, so he's the one I always ask, "If we're in this key, can I do this?" I have a basic grasp of that stuff, but I always have to refresh my memory. But it's not like somebody's just handing us changes. In fact, when we're writing songs, we don't even talk about changes we're talking about making music and asking if it feels good. It's way more about how it makes you feel than what key it's in.

What's your musical relationship with Adrian?

It was a big deal when our original drummer left in '89. He had energy when he auditioned, a true California kid we had seen at shows. He told us he'd been playing for years, but in fact he had learned every song-every beat and every hit, part for part-from our five-song demo tape. At his audition he played them perfectly. We said, "You're in," but very quickly we learned he'd been playing only a few months. He tricked us.

Our first recording experience with him was in 1990. We borrowed some money from somebody and actually got Flea to produce for us. It was when Flea was on the cover of Spin; I was 19, and it was a really big deal for me. It was Adrian's first studio experience, and it was horrendous. We recorded two songs we never released. It wasn't Flea's fault; we just weren't ready-I remember Flea trying to show Adrian how to play beats. But that experience helped make Adrian the great drummer he is today. He's versatile, he's hard-hitting, and he can pull back.

What does the future hold for No Doubt?

We don't know what's going to happen, and that's the exciting thing I think we'll make another record. We hit this really cool songwriting place we'll probably want to explore a bit more. But when we finally do decide to hang it up, there's going to be a lot more in life I can explore.

What advice do you have for young bassists?

If you're enjoying yourself and passionate about what you're doing, stick with it. It sounds so cliche, but it's what we do.

MUSIC LESSON: Master Of Styles

Tony Kanal'S Return of Saturn parts reflect the band's broad stylistic range. Whether it's moments of boundless punk energy, laid-back reggae bounces, or sensitive ballads, bass is at the forefront. Ex. I is Tony's line on the double-time "Ex-Girlfriend" chorus. "I'm doing it the punk way," says Kanal, explaining his technique of pounding out eighth-notes on a single string. Tony used his StingRay 5 to nab lower notes in the verse. On the melancholy, mid-tempo "Simple Kind of Life," he covers quite a bit of the 5's range, using it to heighten the pop tune's mournful sense. Starting down low on the B string during the verse (Ex. 2a), Tony leaves room for the vocals, before sliding up to grab a high octave Cmaj7 chord going into the chorus (Ex. 2b). The melodic line solidly outlines the chord tones while pushing the beat with a rhythm that says "rock & roll." At the end of the line, Tony backs off the aggressive feel with a sliding fill that includes the plaintive major 7 and 9 scale degrees.

Tony's line at the beginning of "The Magic's in the Makeup" (Ex. 3) almost has more rests than notes, but the added space makes the melodic touches-especially the even-bar fills outlining Cmaj7-really stand out. "That's a good example of a song in which I tried to underplay, but say a lot when I did play." Ex. 4 is Tony's reggae ostinato on the creepy "Marry Me." Kanal keeps the rhythmic feel with staccato articulation and ghost-notes, a characteristic "one drop" in bar 2, and an anticipation of the harmony just before bar l's beat three.