Q&A With Hudson River
If astrology isn’t real, then why do air signs act like that? The night that I met Hudson River, a West Philly-based vibraphonist, in person I was taken aback by how familiar her energy felt. The streams of consciousness and seemingly disconnected tangents and nonsequiturs that passed through her lips were really just her powerful abstract thoughts and keen observational skills on full display. I had Hudson River pegged as a Gemini, when in reality she’s one of my Aquarius sisters. There is something so special about air sings’ ability to find connectedness in what appears disjointed.
Through our interview over chai lattes at a West Philly cafe on a rainy Sunday afternoon, it became apparent that Hudson River craves interconnectedness and vulnerability in both her musical practice and community. In this interview, we’ll dig into how her getting kicked off the marching band led to her learning the vibraphone and the lasting community she has created with her childhood bandmates.
Keep reading to hear about a serendipitous encounter with a friend and fellow vibraphonist that occurred in the middle of this interview.
Hudson River’s Upcoming Shows:
Night of Vibes at 48 Record Bar on December 20, 8 PM
Light And Sound at Icebox Project Space on January 14, 7:30 PM
Hudson River and Friends at Chris’ Jazz Cafe, February 15, 7:30 PM & 9 PM
Melissa Simpson: Tell me about your first foray into music.
Hudson River: It was the end of third grade where they would let you try different instruments. My mom was like, “Dude, drums”. I'm like, “hell no.” I just didn't wanna listen to my mom. So I chose the flute and hated it. Then I went to drums and loved it. I was drumming and playing percussion for years.
I got to high school and I wanted to be a part of the battery – I wanted to do bass drum and the symbol. I tried out twice – for the marching band and drumline – but they cut me each time. Instead, they put me in the front ensemble which is called “the pit”, and that's where I learned how to play what I’m playing now – the Vibraphone. I started on the glockenspiel – it’s a miniature version of the vibraphone. It's all metal and doesn't have a pedal – it just rings so beautifully.
Melissa Simpson: How natural was that for you to pick up? Was there a large learning curve?
Hudson River: Yeah, absolutely. And I resisted it. It was the most scary thing. When I was in eighth grade we had a series of tests and I passed with the snare, all the marching stuff, all percussion where you're just hitting one drum, two, or maybe three. Then we had to do scales on a xylophone. I was like, “hell no”. Eventually, I learned it, but I resisted it the entire way. I probably even cried a bit. When I got to high school I was one track minded going just for the battery. They cut me and I couldn't believe it. I had to practice a lot. But I wanted it, despite it not being natural to me. Everything takes practice. But I ended up loving it and that made me want to practice and that made me want to express myself in that way and through that instrument.
Melissa Simpson: So you were doing this through your school or an outside program?
Hudson River: I went to Upper Darby High School and was on the Upper Darby Drumline. I wouldn’t have been able to participate if I didn’t attend Upper Darby High School.
The program wasn't getting extra funding – we were the funding if anything, we had to fundraise ourselves if our dues weren't enough. We were not only funding for ourselves but for our instruments, and the music. I love this with every bit of my being. This is the only reason why I'm playing music and this instrument in particular is because of this experience.
I got the residency coming up at Chris’ Jazz Club on February 15th, 2024. And around this time 10 years ago, we did part four of the drumline show which happened to be a ballad. That was the most touching piece. It was composed by my teacher Mike Nevin. We’re going to play that same arrangement for the show at Chris’. That’s also around the same time that our good friend from marching band and drumline, Ben, passed away. A few years ago we all vowed that his passing would not be in vain - we’re going to hang out and all play music together. That’s what this residency is for – it’s been 10 years and it brought us here.
I’ll forever give thanks for that time. I learned so much from them and I’m still learning so much from them. The guitarist that I have for this event, the last time we played together was April 15, 2014, but we still have all this love. That band includes some of the sweetest and most vulnerable people. We got vulnerable without even having to express words to each other. I never knew what that felt like, you know? I never knew that I could experience that. And we experienced it so young. We also had people who were in their mid-fifties experiencing that for the first time. We made some magic.
Melissa Simpson: That’s truly beautiful.
Hudson River: And the thing I love so much about Mike Nevin’s teaching style is that he witnesses you. All we want as humans is to be witnessed. We want to be seen, heard, and understood, – really just witnessed. He was able to do that for all of us. We came in with no type of skillset.
We all grew and got better technique-wise and stuff like that. We became more vulnerable with each other and able to express ourselves more authentically each time that we were together. Mike was able to see and foster that.
Melissa Simpson: It sounds like that level of vulnerability made room for growth in all of y’all.
Hudson River: For all of us. And that's the thing that's – I never got that before from my family and for that to be given to me first, in music, and in that way, I have utter respect and love for this craft.
Melissa Simpson: Tell me about your foray into teaching.
Hudson River: I started going to school for political science, and I was going to boot camp the summer after my freshman year. I thought that music was just extra and that I needed something to do. I was doing the music program at Widner – ugh I hate that school. I should have gone to an HBCU or something. I had gotten accepted to HBCUs but I had a full ride at Widener. I wasn't gonna school unless it was paid for because I was poor.
Melissa Simpson: You made a choice.
Hudson River: Music was always a side thing for me. I thought I was going into politics and would do social justice work and change things from the inside. I was gonna be in the military for 20 years and get all these benefits and then go into politics thinking everyone's going to vote for a veteran and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. And it didn't work out. I applied for military academies. I went to the summer seminars. I got accepted. By the time it was coming around to me apply and do all the physical stuff, I procrastinated like. I feel like I purposely failed because I didn't wanna go.
I started teaching at Pennwood a few months before I went to boot camp. Brandon Coley, a senior when I was a freshman in drum line was like, “Yo, I've been teaching at Penwood for a minute. They need a pit tech and I think you'd be great for it. I didn’t think I was worthy, I hadn’t been playing for a minute. I checked it out and ended up loving the kids and the program. The kids, they ain’t really fuck with me at first. They’re my babies now – they've always been my babies. Mind you, I was like 19, and the youngest was like 14 the oldest was 17.
So I taught at Pennwood High School, and I taught at Ridley High School from the age of 19 to about 22. I was living in Philly at the time, so it was getting hard to Ridley since I didn’t have a car. Then I started teaching a little bit in Philly, and it was a completely different age group. I've always been a part of music programs where kids wanted to be there and paid pay to be there unlike in Philadelphia where many programs are getting revamped.
Melissa Simpson: Was it an afterschool program?
Hudson River: Essentially, yeah. And it was like 30 minutes each. I'm used to having 18 hours with kids a week. Yeah. And now it's like 30 minutes twice a week. Philly doesn't have the funding at all. It's frustrating. I didn't have any supplies. Then I was worried about rent. And then a kid is telling me that he doesn’t want to be there and how they don’t care about music. You know what I mean? I can't handle that. I need to get my shit together if I want to teach, let alone a group of kids that don’t want to be there or know that they want to be there yet. So that's where I'm coming from, especially as a performing artist. Like, let me get my foundation right. financially as a full-time performing artist.
Melissa Simpson: So interesting. But it's a valid take.
Hudson River: I would not have been a good role model.
Melissa Simpson: You're not getting paid. You're figuring it out. And they don't want to be there.
Hudson River: I'm getting paid for 1.5 hours and another 1.5 hours a week. Excuse me! No! It's $50 an hour but like two times a week. Philly just doesn't have the funding for it. I would do it for free, but I can’t. I’m at the point where I need to get myself together before I can show up and do anything. Like, I love this. I like being hyper-focused on something that I love. I like messing up. I hate messing up! But I love getting stuff right. And I love working towards something. I know that I can't do it.
Melissa Simpson: The process.
Hudson River: And you can always trust the process with repetition, and with the intention of being aware of your mistakes, you know?
Melissa Simpson: Absolutely. So obviously you were performing when you were in the pit and with the marching band, but outside of an institutional context, tell me about how you got into performing.
Hudson River: Oh, that's a really good question. Okay. Journalist! [laughter]. Someone asked me recently, what I wanted to be when I was younger. I wanted to be a singer. [laughter].
Melissa Simpson: You used to sing too?
Hudson River: I used to sing a lot – I used to perform around Delaware County until I was 12. I would perform at talent shows – I used to win the talent shows just by singing. My voice has always been a little raspy, but when I hit puberty, it did go down a little deeper. One time I was performing Love on Top and, uh…
Melissa Simpson: With the modulation?! Is that what that's called?
Hudson River: I tried to do it and I hit the wrong note. It was, it was early before the modulation though. We didn't even get to the modulation.
Melissa Simpson: Oh wow!
Hudson River: I was singing Love On Top. I did a little [screaches]. My mom was in the audience. I saw her chuckle. I was like, “Oh my God.” Everyone sees me get nervous. I had a friend in the audience who was supposed to do schedule claps, like, to get it going. They witnessed me get nervous and thought they’d make it better by clapping They clapped too early. I'm like, “Oh my God, everybody's clapping.” They stopped clapping earlier than they were supposed to clap. It just wasn’t right. I said, “fuck this, I’m leaving!” I left the stage and never sang solo again until this past Saturday at Chris’ Jazz Cafe. I did a few songs and it was terrifying but I just needed to practice. I hit the wrong note on my vibraphone all the time – it’s about the recovery. I guess it’s the same thing about singing, that that’s more of a vulnerable thing.
Melissa Simpson: Yeah, it’s coming out of you as opposed to the instrument.
Hudson River: Yeah, and that’s vulnerable.
Melissa Simpson: So tell me about performing with the vibraphone? Before the interview started, you mentioned busking – how’s that been for you?
Hudson River: I'm looking at myself as a case study in a sense. It seems to be different based on the setting. A lot of times with street performing I psych myself out and pretend that I'm just practicing. With marching band and drumline. We would practice outside all the time. During those practices, people would sometimes walk by and ask to tip us. We would be like, “No, this doesn’t sound good. This is just practice.” We’d get defensive.
But when COVID hit I had to start paying rent on my own. I had to either go to school or get a job. I got a job in sales and didn’t hit quota for a few weeks so I lost it. Around that time I was doing a lot of open mics and I decided that I was just going to rent a vibraphone.
I had an appointment to get one on Saturday in Brooklyn. I hopped on the Megabus, then hopped on the train. On the way back I hopped in an Uber, then back on the Megabus, put that jawn right on there, and went right back to Philly. And I was like, “I think I'm just gonna street perform.”
I would go out to perform and have my headphones in with my favorite songs playing and just jam out to them. I went to City Hall for the first time, and I made what I would make on my job while street performing. And thought why don't I just do this? It's been pretty successful.
Even though it's crazy, it's exhausting, it's psychotic, it can be demeaning it's scary, it's terrifying, it's a lottery to live in the city every day. To put myself out there like that is crazy in itself. But I would rather do nothing else. Even if I have all the money in the world I still wanna go out and play my instrument on the city streets because. That's so freeing.
Melissa Simpson: Do you know why it makes you feel this way?
Hudson River: I love it when people don’t pay attention – or do. I like screaming into a void. You’re going to listen regardless.
Melissa Simpson: Yeah. The music is going in their ears regardless. They’re a captive audience because you’re playing music in their airspace.
Hudson River: Then it's cool to psych me out and play like no one's watching. Yeah, I can do that in my house, but there’s a level of validation that comes from performing that I feel anyone would seek from others – that's why it's done. We all wanna be seen, heard understood, and witnessed. I can just talk all my shit.
Every single gig that I've gotten was through street performing.
Melissa Simpson: That’s so dope. Well, what's been one of the most beautiful moments you've experienced while busking?
Hudson River: My brain went to the exact opposite of that.
Melissa Simpson: Well I was trying to lead with the good.
Hudson River: Well I met Salina [Laughter as she points to a friend]
At this point Hudson River gestures toward a friend and fellow vibraphonist who just so happened to be at the same cafe that afternoon. I arrived at the cafe before Husdon and set up shop next to this young person who was quietly working on their laptop. I had zero context as to who this person was. After a few minutes, Hudson joined me at the table and we began casually chatting. It wasn’t until about 10 minutes later when we were about to start the interview that Hudson recognized Salina sitting across from her. It was truly a beautiful moment. They both hugged and gushed over each other's talents and transparency. After a short chat and an exchange of introductions, Hudson and I started the interview and Salina went back to work. That was until Hudson recalled this fond street-performing memory. The two began musing on how important it was for them to find fellow femme-presenting vibraphonists in a city that can sometimes be so lonely.
Hudson River: I love people, but people get on my goddamn nerves. Especially Philadelphians. But I like, I genuinely love Philly like no other city.
I'm evidently touched by this instrument. I play it, you know what I mean? And I've, I've been playing it for years. The longest thing I've ever been committed to anything. It's cool to hear when people are touched too.
And of course when people tip me. I’ve gotten a few $100 tips over the years.
People will tell me about the day that they're going through and the music helped them to make a moment to stop and breathe.
We don't stop and breathe and it’s to the point we're so defensive and on guard. That's also the downfall of street performance – the defensiveness. That’s any city in general, but especially in the States, especially on the East Coast. Philly is a traumatized city – you can feel it in our everyday interactions so it’s an honor to have anyone stop for a second to breathe from based on what I’m doing. Thank you – that’s really touching.
I love talking to people even though I struggle with discipline. I’m very free-flowing. And it doesn't go right with capitalism and being able to pay bills. It don't work like that. It just don't. And it, it sucks. I struggle with time management with street performing and like talking to folks. But I love talking to people and I feel like it's not in vain – there's meaning to it. I love spending 45 minutes chopping up with random folk.
Melissa Simpson: It adds humanity that we so often skip over.
Hudson River: That’s why I’m here. That’s why we’re all here.
Melissa Simpson: Tell me how you envision your music career in the future.
Hudson River: There are so many opportunities. I wanna do everything. I don't ever want to be bored. I don't ever want to be stagnant. Like I want to do everything. I wanna be a music director. I want to put together scores and playlists for movies and shows.
Melissa Simpson: So tell me about things you have coming up. I know you mentioned, a residency at Chris's Jazz Cafe, and this group have with people you went to school with. Does that group have a name?
Hudson River: Bands take a lot of work: This is how we perform and this is our specific name. No, these are just my friends that I play with. You know what I mean? It’s all interchangeable. The event is called Hudson River And Friends. This is my thing, that I got with my work, you know what I mean? And I wouldn't be able to do it without all my friends, but they're not on every single song together. There are parts where it's just vibraphone. There are parts where it's vibraphone and bass, there are parts where it's vibraphone bass and drums. Not everyone is needed at the same time. This is me being a music director. I am choosing music that I like, the order, and how the songs flow into each other.
I want it to be a real vulnerable experience and within that vulnerability, these are my friends that I've been playing with for years who also appreciate that same openness
Melissa Simpson: Is there anything that you want the public to know about you and your music that we didn't touch on?
Hudson River: I just wanna be vulnerable. I ain't got nothing else to lose, other than myself. With every show that I have, how I produce my music, and how I express myself, I just want to be authentic and respectful. Everything I'm putting into my music is who I am, who I was, and who I will be.
