I’m just back from Australia. We had to fly 23 hours there and 23 hours back, via the Middle East. It was crazy. I guess the promoter saved a bit of money that way. I was in second class, I suppose you’d call it. The band were out back.
I slept my butt off on the plane. I had to get my rest, as there were a lot of people expecting me down in didgeridoo land. We went to Sydney and Melbourne, and played Bluesfest, in Byron Bay. Five gigs in nine days. Phew. I’ve been to Australia a few times now. I love the people, they’re — how would you put it? — lively.
I’m 76 now, and I feel great. Wow, it’s just wonderful to be alive. I grew up in Los Angeles, I’m a California boy, but we didn’t travel. I grew up in my room, with my music, because I’m comfortable in my own space. The first time I left America was with [the drummer] Chico Hamilton in 1966. We went to Japan. It was so exciting — they rolled out the red carpet for us everywhere we went. We played alongside [the saxophonist and flautist] Sadao Watanabe. What a privilege. He’s even older than I am. Still playing, too. Since then, I’ve been nearly a dozen times to Japan and I love it. The people are quiet and cordial, but then burst out in the most amazing applause and make you feel good.
Oh my God, I’ve done everything in travel. Been everywhere. I toured Nigeria in 1980 with Fela Kuti [the pioneer of Afrobeat]. I’ve been to Russia, Jamaica... In Jamaica, it’s very happy. The people are happy. The airport is happy when you arrive. You feel that happy vibe straightaway. I really like New York, where I live. I like the groove. You’d say the people are groovy. But I’ve never done Egypt. Can you believe it, man? I always wanted to go see those pyramids.
People in London have so much personality. I love Ronnie Scott’s. I’ve played there so much, I feel like I’m Miles Davis or something. In London — and in Paris — I tend to get recognised. I’ll be walking down the street and people will be, like, “Hey, Roy!” And I say, “My God, I like this.” They’re so friendly. Me, I’ll give autographs in a split second.
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I’ve worked with a lot of famous people. Two I’d have loved to have travelled with are Barbra Streisand and Shirley Bassey. I think I got my love of travelling from [the jazz percussionist] Lionel Hampton. He was a big traveller. My parents took me to see him at the Paramount, in LA, when I was five and he gave me his vibraphone mallets. Can you believe it? My first set of mallets. I saw him perform at the Blue Note club, in New York, just before he died. I went up and said “I love you, man”, and gave him a big hug. I don’t think he knew who I was.
I’ve been thinking a lot about changes in life, and planes often give me that space to think. I listen to a bit of music, I cool out and I write. My last trip, I was writing a song called Pain. My God, there’s so much pain in the world. I see what’s going on with Trump and Russia, and the world feels like a more dangerous place. It seemed safer when I was younger.
I thought I’d see a lot of the world, but I never knew I’d see as much as I have. I’m just glad to be enjoying life and meeting people. I feel truly fortunate.
The vibraphone player Roy Ayers, 76, is a pioneer of jazz-funk and one of the most frequently sampled artists. Best known for the track Everybody Loves the Sunshine, he has been performing and recording for more than 50 years. He will play the Soundwave festival, in Croatia, July 27-31 (soundwavecroatia.com). He lives in New York with his wife of 40 years, Argerie. They have two sons and a daughter, and one granddaughter
