Jamie Leeming Discusses the Changing Sound of Jazz

Jamie Leeming’s Sequent unfolds in layers, moving effortlessly from dreamy, shoegaze-inspired vocals to intimate solo guitar moments and wild, psychedelic jams. What makes it truly special, though, is how these different elements come together with a sense of unity, creating a hypnotic flow and an atmosphere that pulls you in completely. This is one record that proves sometimes the beauty lies in leaving things just as they are—an onion that’s best enjoyed unpeeled.

What were some of the musical experiences which planted a seed for your interest in jazz?

Listening to the album ‘The Inner Mounting Flame’ by the Mahavishnu Orchestra as a teenager was a huge moment for me.

At the time, I had been playing electric guitar for a couple of years, predominantly rock music.

I was immediately hooked by the volume, power and technical virtuosity of the guitar playing, and also fascinated by the unfamiliar building blocks of McLaughlin’s vast musical vocabulary.

As of today, what kind of materials, ideas, and technologies are particularly stimulating for you?

The music on my new album ‘Sequent’ explores the nature of change, and I wanted the sound of the album to be an extension of the album concept. To represent the duality within certain cycles of change, when mixing I was looking to present the sound of the record as simultaneously vintage and modern.

This led me to explore some old school methods, for example recording to tape or a specific approach to panning instruments, as well as more contemporary techniques with the low end frequency range.

What role do electronic tools and instruments play for your creative process?

As an electric guitarist, I seem to naturally lean towards integrating technology into the creative process.

When writing the track ‘Storm 5’ from ‘Sequent’, the concept was for it to sound like it had been collaged together from different samples.



I manipulated/sampled a recording of myself playing acoustic drums to make a demo version of the song, which I took to the band in the recording studio. The idea of the performance was to re-create the sound of the samples in the demo by performing all parts live and in real time, recorded to tape.

The entire process resulted in a unique feel for the track, and it was really special for Alfa Mist to feature on this track, a musician I’ve admired and worked with over many years.

Thanks to technological advances, collaboration has become a lot easier. What have been some of the most fruitful collaborations for you recently and what approaches to and modes of collaboration currently seem best to you?

Some of my favourite collaborations have been where everyone feels free to fully act as their authentic selves, and take things in whatever direction feels best.

The track ‘Late One’ features Sly5thAve, and I originally suggested adding some tenor sax to the track. Sly put forward the idea involving layers of woodwinds, and sent over an incredibly detailed orchestration, including transcribing individual motifs within the track, and layering them with clarinets, flute and saxophone.



The end result was so unique, and such a beautiful representation of Sly’s individuality and artistry.

What, would you say, are the key ideas behind your approach to improvisation?

Since very early on in my journey as musician, I have always seemed to gravitate towards approaching improvisation as a blank canvas. It feels like a natural state of existence, a curiosity to want to play without repeating myself, starting from a different point each time.

My approach to improvisation is also heavily influenced by many sources external to music, drawing parallels from my studies of flow state, beginner’s mind and meditation, for example.

How, would you say are your live performances and your recording projects connected at the moment? How do they mutually influence and feed off each other?  

I see them as two sides of the same coin, especially as my studio process is often very ‘live’. Both move through different stages of expansion and distillation.

For example, the track ‘Changing Line - Mountain’ was written about the ever evolving nature of sequent change.



In the studio, the band expanded upon variations of the theme and chord sequence, which we recorded in one take. In post production, the audio was then refined and reconstructed, to create the finished track.

How much potential for something “new” is there still in jazz? What could this “new” look like?

For me, the potential for ‘new’ is one of perspective. My approach in music is to try and communicate how I view the world, in the most honest form possible. As with everybody, this viewpoint will be today’s culmination of personal life experiences, input, choices etc.

There is a saying attributed to Mahler that "tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire”. I look to respect and uphold the values and history of the jazz tradition, whilst also adding the discourse from this viewpoint - by definition, a true representation of this can only result in something ‘new’.

For many artists, life-changing musical experiences take place live. How do you see that yourself?

Something I greatly value about live performance is the opportunity to dig deeper, and expand my own limits as a musician.

When I’m fortunate enough to be playing the same repertoire on consecutive nights or as part of a tour, it can be challenging to find a fresh angle to approach the music, night after night.

The necessity of having to look beyond my existing creative options, has led me to play in ways I might not have found otherwise, and led to a certain type of growth that is hard to achieve in other ways.

The Montreux Festival intends to preserve its archive of recordings for future generations. Do you personally feels it's important that everything should remain available forever - or is there something to be said for letting beautiful moments pass and linger in the memories of those that experienced them?

As a university student, I bought a double CD version of one my favourite albums, ‘A Night at the Village Vanguard’ by Sonny Rollins. This re-issue style CD included an extensive tracklist, with multiple takes of the same composition, different sets etc.



More recently, I acquired an original vinyl copy of the album, which has 3 tracks per side, and no alternate takes. The experience of listening to the expanded CD, with a more historical approach to preservation of the audio, serves a different function to listening to the original vinyl LP, which presents a condensed programme of music, considered and complete.

Archival recordings can be hugely important - the choice is ultimately with the listener or participant, and whether they opt-in to experiencing/re-experiencing the event.