Ozomatli percussionist Jiro Yamaguchi describes the Ozo mission

Ozomatli has been mish-mashing genres for more than 12 years. The Los Angeles-based band is almost equal parts rock, hip-hop and Latin salsa, and the group has toured with a range of acts that includes Santana, Dave Matthews Band, Los Lonely Boys and Lenny Kravitz. It’s a 10-man sound that blends rural Spanish and urban American styles, borrowing hints of dub, funk and Middle Eastern fare, all encompassed by a vocal commitment to social justice. Ozo is currently touring in support of its fourth full-length album, “Don’t Mess with the Dragon,” which came out last year on Concord Records. That tour will bring the group to The Music Hall in Portsmouth on Sunday, May 11. The band brings with it a reputation for carnival-style concerts that carry the atmosphere of a touring block party. No one demonstrates the band’s eclecticism better than percussionist Jiro Yamaguchi, an original member who plays an Indian drum called the tabla, an Afro-Peruvian box drum called the cajon and other assorted percussion instruments from around the world. The Wire caught up with Yamaguchi last week to discuss the current tour and Ozo’s status as a cultural melting pot of music.

Ozomatli shows are known for having a block party atmosphere where the band and the audience really interact and there’s this shared energy. How important is it for you guys to get the audience involved in your shows?
I think it’s integral. If the people are involved in the show then it’s a successful night, and if people aren’t, then we kind of just leave feeling like we didn’t connect. I mean, that’s our perspective. Even though people may have had a great time and they were there just to observe, even if they walk away thinking, “Wow, that was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen,” we might come away with a perception that it wasn’t that great because there wasn’t that interaction. So, I guess we’ve set a standard for ourselves that’s pretty high in terms of that.

Another thing that Ozo has always been known for is its commitment to social justice. The band formed in 1995 as part of a labor protest. Can you tell me a bit more about the band’s origins?
Sure. We started at a place called the Peace and Justice Center, which is a community center that is dedicated to local youths and, specifically, the arts. So kids would come there to play music, rehearse, theater, poetry, there were skateboard ramps in the back, there was a little coffee shop. Our role was, we were just a group of musicians who would get together and charge a little money at the door for people to come and have a good time, and that helped pay for utilities and things like that. How the community center formed was out of a labor dispute. Our bass player Wil-Dog (Abers) and the original drummer Anton (Morales) were part of this group called the Conservation Corp, which was a group in Los Angeles that provides jobs, but kind of menial jobs, to kids to try to give them a hand up, but it was like painting over graffiti, picking up trash and not very fun work. What people were trying to do was get better wages and healthcare for single moms, and out of that dispute came the rights to a lease of this building, which eventually became the Peace and Justice Center, where we played music every weekend.

In what ways has the band remained dedicated to social justice issues and the anti-war movement?
Since such a big part of the identity of the group has been to support causes and play functions since day one, without even knowing it, that’s what we would do. We would play functions for immigrants, AIDS and women’s rights and different rights. That’s really how we got our start. We weren’t trying to get a record deal. We weren’t playing in clubs for the first year, we were just doing parties. So it’s always been a part of the band and its message, and probably more so than anything else. We’ve always been against the war. It’s kind of interesting because I remember right after 9-11, we didn’t agree with going and bombing somebody, and it wasn’t a very popular stance to take at that time. I remember playing in New York like two weeks later, right after 9-11. The city was still dusty and you could see the work lights of the World Trade Center, where it was, right from the Bowery Ballroom, which is a few blocks from where the World Trade Center was. People were just really thankful that we played. They were saying it was like a cathartic experience, because it was just 24-7, nonstop, of not only grief but repetitive loops on the TV of the buildings falling, and just to have a couple hours of reprieve from that—people were digging that.

Do you feel like there’s a special demand for music that addresses social issues and so forth, in light of the wars that are going on right now and the political climate?
I think so, yeah, and I think that’s great. It wasn’t always the case. There was like a slow, gradual change where it became cool. Around that time, I remember the Dixie Chicks caught a lot of flak for criticizing Bush, and it’s things like that that I think created the culture where it’s OK, and now it’s almost hip. I guess people are just sick of it.

Do you think those sentiments on the part of the band come across in the music on “Don’t Mess with the Dragon?”
Yeah. There are songs like “Magnolia Song,” which touch on what happened in New Orleans right after Hurricane Katrina. There’s a song called “Violeta,” which directly addresses the war from the perspective of a soldier who’s on the front line. He gets hurt and, in that moment, he’s questioning everything and his relationship to the world as a father, as a son, as a man in this world. Yeah, there are a few songs that do address that.

Another one of the things Ozomatli has always been recognized for is the cross-pollination of genres, using a lot of instruments from around the world, and multi-ethnic band members. How important is it to the band to embrace musical styles that span the globe?
Yeah, I guess that’s also part of what the band is, from day one. It was always kind of an idea of inclusion. On the first day, when we showed up at rehearsal, I had my tabla and Cut Chemist had his turntables, and we were like, “What are we gonna play?” And Wil was like, “I know this reggae bass line,” and (guitarist) Raul (Pacheco) was like, “Well, I know these Spanish songs.” So it was just kind of the sum of its parts. What everybody brought individually kind of fed into that dynamic, and it’s just grown over time. The more we travel, you know, we’ve been to Cuba, we go to Turkey, we’ve been to Indonesia and all these different countries that have very strong musical cultures, and we meet the musicians there and learn a little bit. We show them what we do, they show us what they do, and that rubs off on us, and I think that reflects back into the music.

You play a number of percussion instruments from different parts of the world. How did you come to learn how to play all these instruments?
I don’t know, I just picked them up. I went to school at CalArts (California Institute of the Arts) for a few years and studied, pretty intensively, North Indian classical music, some Ghanaian African drumming, some Indonesian music. But from a kid I was always interested in music from all over the place.

Do you find that audiences in other parts of the world respond differently to your music, or is there a similar type of energy that exists everywhere?
You know, it’s funny. It’s a pretty similar energy. We played in Nepal, in Katmandu, in this public square, and we had no idea what to expect. They were telling us we were the first American band to play there, and they had actually set the stage up about 100 feet from where the people would be. We were like, “That’s kind of far.” We weren’t completely comfortable with that. And they were like, “Well, if the power goes out, if they don’t like you guys, if anything happens, they’re gonna start throwing rocks” (laughs). We were like, “OK, what about 50 feet?” We just compromised and kind of pushed it up closer and we were like, “OK, we can do that.” When we got there, there was military police. But once we got onstage and started playing, it was like we were in southern California or anywhere else. Granted, it was mostly men, but they were waving their arms and crowd surfing. It was really interesting to see. It was kind of funny.

Last year, the State Department chose Ozomatli to be a cultural representative of the United States on a couple of tours of Asia and the Middle East. What was that experience like?
Very interesting. It’s kind of funny because of the fact that we are so anti-war and very vocal about it, and where we come from and everything, that the State Department would want us to do that. We had to question, like, “Wait a second, these are the people that we are speaking against.” So we had to kind of come to terms with that contradiction for ourselves, as well. But going out and playing our music in front of places where we never would have had an opportunity (to play) and probably won’t go back. Having an opportunity to connect with people—I mean, it is good to connect with people and, even as Americans, to show people that all Americans don’t represent George Bush (laughs), and that there is diversity and that people are people. It was a lot of fun to do and to be able to go to places like Egypt, like Jordan and Tunisia. It was a trip.

Being in that role, did you feel like you really had to act like an official ambassador representing the nation, or was it more casual than that?
It was more casual. I felt like, just being associated with Duke Ellington, Herbie Hancock and other American musicians that have done this program before, it was kind of like, “Whoa, that’s kind of weird.” I guess the program was a lot stronger earlier. I don’t think they do it as much anymore. But just being in the same group as that is like, “Whoa, we don’t really fit into that caliber of musicianship. We’re just a band and those guys are icons.”

Over the past few years, leading up to the last album, you guys dealt with some internal battles and personal struggles. Do you find that, with a band of nine or 10 members, you tend to encounter creative differences after so many years of playing together? 
Oh, definitely. I mean, I think it’s only gotten better as people have grown up and are able to look at themselves and grow. We’ve been doing it for 13 years now, so just to learn some things and learn how to be in a relationship with others, and to be able to listen and all the things that are needed in a relationship for it to grow and continue. Sure, there’s always gonna be differences, but that’s OK, and I think it’s only gotten better in terms of that.

“Don’t Mess with the Dragon” was a few years in the making. Does it feel good to be on the road touring behind this music?
Yeah, it always feels good. I think we’re already ready to get on with the next record. We’ve gotten to that point where we’re starting to write new songs, so we’re getting to a place where we’re ready to make another one.

Ozomatli will be at The Music Hall as part of the venue’s Intimately Yours series at 8 p.m. on Sunday, May 11. Tickets are $26 to $30. Call 603-436-2400 or visit www.themusichall.org.