Makaya McCraven strives for what he calls ‘leaving room for serendipity’

Chicago-based drummer, producer and composer Makaya McCraven sometimes refers to himself as a jazz musician. But he refuses to be limited by that label — or be boxed in by the genre or anyone’s expectations of what he should be playing or creating. Ahead of his Symphony Center Presents Jazz series concert Jan. 19 (with special guest Meshell Ndegeocello), he talked about his collaborative mindsight, how his music has evolved over the past decade, and his plans for the future. 

You’re always looking to branch out and either collaborate with different types of artists or incorporate their work in your music. Where does that come from?

I’m drawn to a Miles Davis quote I was recently reacquainted with. And I don’t know if he intended it to mean what I’m about to say, but he says you know he was calling that “social music.” It’s both music of the times and what’s going on and whatever other sounds and music are available. I also think the way that jazz musicians work with each other — creating bands, traveling, working with musicians across borders, incorporating different sounds and styles into their music — is something that drives me to want to work with other people.

And some of those people are like elders at times. They always say to come up with people who have done this before and who have a connection with the past or with musicians who you didn’t get a chance to physically be around. I always want to be open like that, where I can meet and play with new people even as I try to keep [my] family of musicians together and create deeper bonds with them.

How is the musical dialogue different when you’re playing with people you’ve played with for a long time, as opposed to newer collaborators?

Playing with newer friends and colleagues is like going on a first date, or your first day at a new job. Everybody’s going to be a little bit more thoughtful or cautious. There’s a networking side to it. It’s a very human experience. We’re going to go onstage or rehearse for the first time, and we’re going to be trying to do something together that takes a certain amount of personal input — your spirit and your emotions and all the hard work and dedication you’ve put into this thing that you’ve dedicated your life to.

But now we have to do that together. And there’s always a feeling of self-consciousness. Are we going to gel? Am I good enough for this? When you play with people you played with for a long time, some of that stuff is gone and things can gel immediately. But that relationship might also come with other baggage. You think you know they’re going to do this or that. Which could be something that brings us together, where we can sound as one, but it could also [make you] feel like you’re in a rut or want something new. By working with people you don’t know, you can become aware of something [new] or be challenged in a way that pushes or inspires you.

Do you have a certain sound in your head that you want to hear, or a certain vision you want to express?

I have a vision for where I want to go and what I want to sell. But part of my vision is that I want to be pushed beyond what I have in my own head. And so, ideally, by bringing together incredible musicians and creative people and having an open way to interpret my compositions or my work, there will be the opportunity for new things to happen and new things that are beyond what I’ve been able to dream up myself. I don’t always want to puppet-master something. I’m looking to be inspired and to learn and to be in a moment of growth every time I am up there with people. It’s about leaving room for serendipity. For a beautiful surprise or a beautiful moment that is beyond our imagination.

Over the years you’ve moved away from melody to music that interests you sonically. Was that a conscious decision or more of an organic development?

It’s all of the above. When I was younger, I was compartmentalizing the different influences that I had. When I was playing in the jazz world, I was a jazz drummer. When I was playing in the hip-hop world, I was trying to make beats and play hip hop. If I was playing with an Afrobeat band or pop singers or folk musicians, I just considered myself a session musician. Eventually, I wanted to find ways to forget all of that and just do whatever the hell I wanted, whenever the hell I wanted. And that’s when I started to kind of incorporate more of the electronic and textural and sonic stuff into my playing and my output as an artist. I have ideas of what I want to do, but I really try to keep my mind open to what’s happening and what seems to be working, and I kind of let the thing roll.

What does the future hold in terms of musical exploration?

I want to continue to travel the world. I feel like I spend a lot of time touring in Europe. I have a lot of connections in Europe since I was born there and have family there. But just recently, we were able to play in Sao Paulo [Brazil] and Australia and South Africa and Jakarta and Japan. And that’s something I want to lean into and do more of.

It’s a little difficult with having a family and trying to balance touring and life stuff. But I’m very interested in meeting more musicians from other parts of the world, getting to collaborate with people across borders and see what comes of it in terms of creative output. And I hope to keep on making records for other musicians that I might play on or not. It’s been a longtime goal of mine to be a producer and not just a player. I also want to stay curious and open and continue to be able to grow my imprint and use my platform to do something positive for the world as I go.