Behind the Mic Interview
You never know when you meet someone where it might lead.
I met Alton Accola at Como Park in July of 2021 while playing with Beasley’s Big Band. Little did I know from our brief meeting that it would turn into being featured in a collection of interviews with musicians from all over the world!
Have you ever wondered how to simultaneously balance your full-time career and your creative expression?
Press play to hear how I aligned my values, visions, and dreams.
Behind the Scenes
Interview Transcript
One of my first memories is of having a little toy piano. Now I don't play the piano. I still barely plunk. But there was something about that little piano I loved.
When I tell this story, people are amazed. As a toddler, the one thing on television that would stop me dead in my tracks was the Lawrence Welk Show. Mainly the theme song. My mother said, they came on, I would stop what I was doing. There was something about the bubble music that I just was completely attracted to. So when I tell this story, people look at me and say, “ Really? Lawrence Welk? I don't know. It's the mysterious mind of a toddler.
But who knew I'd be singing that type of music years later? I never thought of myself as someone who would be into big band music and be someone that would sing the jazz standards. I didn't think of myself as a singer.
The next influence was my kindergarten teacher. She was an opera singer. She sang in the chorus at the Chicago Opera, and I just idolized her. I thought it was the coolest thing to sit at her feet when she was playing piano and leading a bunch of five-year-olds into our music portion of our class with her, and I adored it.
Now fast forward to me being a goofy, you know, a fourth/ fifth grader. I remember practicing "Girl from Ipanema" in the backyard when nobody could hear me because my friends thought- What are you doing? Who likes this kind of music? I grew up in Gary, Indiana. So, I was surrounded by R&B, the Motown sound- all this goodness. But for some reason, those older songs had a pull for me.
In junior high, I'm the same age as what Michael Jackson would be; I embraced pop culture. It was all about the Jackson Five. My parents were so thankful when I moved from the Jackson Five to Maynard Ferguson when I hit high school. They're like, okay, we're now on the right path.
At this point, I am still not pursuing much singing. I called my voice "alto frog.” I became a band nerd playing flute in high school, junior high, into college. Back then, only sopranos had "good voices" in junior high school -that was just the dynamic. So, I didn't think I could sing. I never thought about it.
Fast forward to college. That's how I ended up in Minnesota. Freshman year, I was literally singing in the shower the first week freshmen were on campus, and somebody yelled over the wall –
"Hey, we need help at Chapel. Would you consider singing with us?"
"Who are you talking to?"
"Like you."
"Sure"
I needed to meet people. I had no idea what would happen, and that is when I started taking my singing seriously. The choral director got a hold of me, and he said,
"You sure you don't want to study opera? You could be a contralto, and that is a rare voice."
No, not my thing. I don't like singing in German. Sorry. I just couldn't do it. But I started singing it all the shows that were on campus. And I started doing singer-songwriter stuff. My early influences other than Lawrence Welk were Joan Baez, Joni Mitchell, Janice Ian, and Carole King. I love the storytelling that came through their music.
I love lyrics. I love lingering on the lyrics because, at the end of the day, as a vocalist, you are a storyteller. So I take it seriously; my desire when I perform is -I don't care how many people are in the room- that everybody walks away feeling it was just the two of us in the room. We had an emotionally intimate conversation. They got access to who they are as humans. They got to see a bit of who I am as a human in the storytelling.
After college, a 15-year hiatus. I did not sing for 15 years- the occasional wedding- that kind of thing. But corporate life took over. I mentioned to somebody I knew at Target, where I worked at the time, I song at some weddings here and there, nothing major. That person told somebody else, and that person came to me and said, "Hey, I play in a big band. Would you consider auditioning for us? We needed a vocalist.
Me - 15 years – "Sure." I thought, what's the worst that happens? The best that happens is that, even though I think the audition was one of the most god-awful things ever, Chuck Beasley, the founder of Beasley's Big Band, heard something in my voice and was willing to take a chance. And I have played with that band off and on for almost 25 years. That's what launched my real career as a vocalist.
Even though I came out of corporate America, and I must admit I loved my security -You know, I like being able to pay my rent, I like being able to own a home, I loved all those trappings -I knew that the Muse, my musical Muse, would demand her time and that's the beauty of having a creative expression.
Singing off and on through those years really helped me deal with the corporate stress. Because as a single person, it's very easy to let your career completely take over. I had hard stops on certain days. "Sorry. It's the first Tuesday of the month. Got to go play O'Gara's," and you walk out the door that day just like anyone else might if they had family obligations because the Beasley Big Band at that time was my family. "Sorry, third Thursday of the month, gotta go to the swing dance gig."
And if I had vendors that were I was working with in town and even when I moved into my sales job later in my career, I'd say well, you could go hang out tonight at a hotel and eat overpriced food, or you could come to O'Gara's and hear me sing and have a great burger and a beer and chill out. Guess what they normally took. They only took the option to come and actually experience the area here and do something different than they would if they were on the road.
I had the privilege in Beasley's big band of learning that style of music from guys who looked at the first time my musical mentors, Chuck Beasley, Rubin Haugen, Roger Bartlett, and Mel Carter Sr.
Mel Carter and I used to drive together, and I called it "driving Mr. Carter." And as he got to know me, he started to mentor me on the way home, "Now Court, I like what you did there on that song, but you want to tweak this a little this way the next time. You might have rushed that a little bit. Why don't you pull back when you do this?"
These little subtleties that the guys who lived this music the first time, who had been on the road doing this music, were willing to tell me, what an absolute honor. As they got older and didn't want the rigors of a big band going to rehearsal and all these things, we started playing small parties or maybe a wedding or something. It was the core group, as they called themselves, the old dudes -Roger, Rubin, and Mel and that's how Court's In Session. my five-piece combo, got created. It was a way to help the old guys keep playing well into their 80s. I cannot thank the three of them enough for the gifts that they've given me over the years. They'll never know. They will just never know.
Little subtleties when I started moving into big band music - “Court, listen to what the horns are doing. Good vocalist in big band music understands the horn parts." To this day, after sitting too many years of Beasley Big Band rehearsals, I can sing pretty much the horn parts on every song that Beasley's puts out. "Go listen to Johnny Hartman" - that was from Mel one night. "Go listen to Johnny Hartman. Give you have a low voice, there's some technique there you could learn, and you might want to consider listening to more male vocalists than you do currently." Wow. Okay, that's an interesting way to think of it. He was right. I learned so much about lingering over the lyrics listening to him. And the emotional depth of really leaning into the low register in my voice. Again, such a gift, such an absolute gift.
And today, even though the three old dudes are no longer with us, I cherish them. I speak about them at our gigs. I love telling stories about them when I'm doing interactions with our audience members. And that's the reason Court's In Session is still around because I want to honor them and their mission to keep this uniquely American art form alive.
What we're doing in Court's in Session these days is about looking at our music as a service. Yes, it is my creative expression to the world. It is my mission to help people attach to their emotions go to get reacquainted with their emotions to the music and the storytelling.
But I also see it as a service. And I do because of my background. I think of the business side of music as this as a service business. How do I help people who want to hire us really create the ambience that they want by using live music and what they do?
I'm also a member of the Minnesota Music Coalition. I've recently joined the board to help promote Minnesota music and support musicians who give so much, especially during the last several months of our collective journey since 2020. Music really helped a lot of us get through it, and it's time for me personally to give back to my fellow musicians by supporting them in a leadership role with an amazing organization that supports us across the state.
That's really rich for me, and it's starting to have me think about what's next for myself as a musician. Yeah, I'll keep doing what I love. I love hanging out with my guys—the five of us in Court's In Session. I love doing piano and voice-only work. I love all that. But there's a part of me the heartstrings are saying, "Okay, there's a little more to do." I've thought about how cool it would be to bring what I do in music interpretation to high school and college big bands. To say this is how I look at a song—maybe starting to teach workshops or nurturing aspiring vocalists.
I've had a few reach out to me because of my new connections. I am often asked – "What should I do first?" - Learn what you want to say and how you want to say it. At the end of the day, you're a storyteller who happens to use lyrics versus words and the power of your voice to tell the story. That's the first lesson taught to me by both of the people that I took lessons from- Roberta Davis, who's from the area, and also from Vicki Mountain. "What do you want to say in the song?" Figure that out first before you ever start singing.
And those lessons have been fascinating to me -things like taking a song like "Do Nothing Till You Hear From Me," which is primarily a song from a guy's point of view. I was first introduced to the song; I was like, I don't know what to do with this song. I couldn't find my voice in it. When I found that it was originally done, mainly done by male vocalists, I was like, oh, wait a sec. If a female is singing this, what is she telling him in saying, "do nothing till you hear from me." And once I got that, that flow in the song, it's become like I own that song. When I sing it, I own it? People say to me, "you made that your song." That's when you know you've done the interpretation in a way that works for you, not somebody else.
So, in addition to listening to people, like Johnny Hartman and Nat King Cole, of course, the women in jazz that have influenced me. I didn't get fully get Billie Holiday until I started studying her work and studying her life. It's really, I think, it's critical for any musician to understand the human that produced the music, especially when you do something like standards, to understand what was really behind all that. Pretty remarkable. Pretty remarkable. Carmen McRae - just love some of the things she's done. Anita O'Day. Wow. Who knew? Right Yeah, the first time I heard her and Julie London, I was like, Wow. I understand that Lawrence Welk connection a little more now as I get older. And, of course, Ella Fitzgerald. You just have to marvel at what she did. Especially when you understand where she came from and what she was about, what she overcame, and the bias even within the jazz community at the time because she didn't have “the look.” But you know what, when you had her voice, the look really didn't matter too much in the long run. And, of course, the incomparable Sarah Vaughan. Those are the women that I tend to listen to in the car. If you want to know what my soundtrack ism it's a combination of all of that. I've also learned to really appreciate songs with quirky lyrics. There are some things that, like people like Pearl Bailey did, people will say – "What are you listening to?" "Just listen to the lyrics. They're really quite funny." Again, that storytelling piece
As always, in gratitude, heartfelt thanks to obviously my family, my parents, and my sibling, who support me on this part of my journey. Couldn't do it without them. My sister's one of my best fans, and so is my dad and my mom when she was still with us. My music teachers from kindergarten all the way through to college.
And then, of course, Vicky Mountain, who will always be my always be my teacher. That's how I introduce her. Roberta Davis, Mel Carter, senior Ruben Haugen, Roger Bartlett, and Chuck Beasley- I cannot give them enough thanks. When someone who said, What do you do?", "I'm a saleslady. I'm a buyer." Now I can say I'm a vocalist because of those guys, and that's special to me.
And my longtime accompanist and cohort in mayhem sometimes on the piano, Eric Edwalds. We've been playing together for well over 20 years now. And he's been right there through all the changes in what I want to do. He's been a great support. The current members of Court’s In Session - Ryan Lodgaard, Rich Goldman, and John Etzell. My heartfelt thanks to you guys for being on this journey with me. I really appreciate you for who you are.
All the members of the Beasley Big Band -we're family. We've been together for a lot. We will continue to do what we do well in Chuck Beasley's honor.
And any other and all other musicians who give their heart and soul out there to their craft. Thank you for doing what you do to and for the world. You are needed. And now is your time.