Today I’m celebrating my friend, saxophonist John Ellis, on his birthday.
For those who know his playing, his sound is like hearing the voice of a familiar friend in a crowded room.
You don’t have to look up. You recognize it immediately. It’s always welcome. And somehow, no matter the context, it’s always appropriate — and always unmistakably him.
That’s not an easy thing to pull off.
John Ellis was born in North Carolina, and came of age musically in New Orleans — a place where individuality isn’t optional. It’s required. He went on to study at The New School, came to wider attention at the Thelonious Monk Competition, and from there, built a career in New York, where he’s been a fixture for decades.
See, despite his youthful demeanor, he’s quietly become a veteran of the scene. He’s worked with artists from Charlie Hunter to Dr. Lonnie Smith, from Helen Sung to Ben Sidran.
He’s the consummate sideman. The kind of musician who knows how to support others. But at the same time, he’s never stopped making his own music — from bands like Double-Wide to long-form projects like Mobro — always carving out space for his own voice.
When John and I spoke for The Third Story podcast (he was one of the first episodes back in 2014), he talked about what it means to build a life in music — and the tension between survival and creativity.
“It was therapy,” he said, describing a rare period when he had time to write. “All of this pent up… not being able to spend time working on my own stuff because I’m just pursuing survival.”
So the question becomes: how do you stay true to yourself and build an authentic life in the music? For John, that happens on and off stage.
Because as much as his musicality stands out, what people remember most isn’t just the playing. It’s the person.
I’ve turned to John on many occasions — for musical guidance, and what you might call psychic advice.
On my 2018 album Cool School: The Music of Michael Franks, his sound and his guidance became an essential part of the music.
And in 2020, during the early days of COVID, when everything felt uncertain, I called him again for The Covid Chronicles.
“I think the hardest thing about it is there is an incredible uncertainty,” he told me.
But even in the chaos, John reminded me of the importance of music .
“It’s very healing and therapeutic… to have music… for people’s psyche and soul.”
John is one of those musicians who sustains the scene. Quietly. Generously. Without making a thing of it.
Earlier this year, he released a new album with Double-Wide called Fireball — another chapter in an already remarkable body of work.
So today, on his birthday, we celebrate John Ellis. A one-of-a-kind player. And a one-of-a-kind cat — both double wide, and a singular soul.
