Ben Merliss – becoming a musician

[Photo by Michael Friedman]

One Friday in late May, I met with bassist, composer, and multi-instrumentalist Ben Merliss to learn about his musical journey, influences, and creative process. We sat down at Stem & Vine, a lush botanical spot on Charles Street. With its verdant setting and relaxed vibe, it was the perfect backdrop for getting to know this remarkable artist.

Ben arrives early, looking casual and composed—cropped brown curls, black wrinkle-free button-up. As I approach, he rises—two or three inches taller than my average height frame. We shake hands, sit, and begin our conversation.

Merliss was born in Weymouth, Massachusetts. In 2002, his father Andrew, a cardiologist, relocated the family to Lincoln, Nebraska. Though his father had an acoustic guitar, “he wasn’t really interested in playing an instrument until he noticed me picking up mandolin at 15,” Merliss says. “He’s played guitar off and on ever since.”

Before settling in Lincoln at age 10, Merliss also lived in Fargo, North Dakota. His early musical exposure came from his father’s classical music collection, followed by The Beatles. Meanwhile, his mother Lori, who grew up in 1970s New York, was drawn to Black and Latin music.

I asked if he got his musical side from her. “I don’t believe so,” he reflects, instead citing two aunts, a grandmother who admired blues legend Leadbelly, and two cousins active in the music industry.

His musical journey began with piano lessons at five. But when he picked up the bass, piano took a back seat—though never disappeared. “Tito Puente and Charles Mingus both became good pianists even though piano wasn’t their main instrument,” he notes.

Merliss plays mandolin and owns an acoustic guitar, too. “I didn’t know I was going to become interested in music,” he says. “But the more deeply I listened, the more I realized I was made to be a musician.” That realization came at 11, after a period of shifting confidence and self-criticism.

He opens up about the challenges he faced. “That lack of confidence actually worsened before my musicianship improved,” he says. “There was a period in adolescence when I suffered from depression. When I came out—as someone from a middle-upper-class background—I resolved to transcend my need to self-castigate.”

Then, with quiet candor, he shares more. “It’s been a slow process. Sadly, many on the autism spectrum—like me—don’t make as much progress. I’m proud and determined to continue.” He says it wasn’t until about age 20 that things started to come into focus. “The world was strange to me,” he admits. “Except for the comfort of the kind of home I had—even after my parents divorced.”

What helped him through? “I continued to pluck the strings of my basses.” He learned bass out of necessity—his middle school needed one for orchestra. From there, he joined jazz bands, practiced rigorously, and was encouraged by his teacher to audition for Peabody.

“There was no doubt I’d audition for the jazz program,” he says. “My family recognized that jazz had my heart.”

Peabody, as he remembers, was “extremely stressful,” but formative. “It opened more doors than it closed. I learned new techniques and met people who remembered me years later.”

After graduation, he returned to Lincoln, staying close to his support system. He performed locally and joined a band called The Time Cops, even playing a small campus festival. “But I became bored. The songwriting wasn’t progressing, and the freshness wore off.”

Back on the topic of family, I reminded him that he said neither parent was a musician, though his mother plays piano. So, I asked, what is a musician?

“Being a musician is more than just playing an instrument,” he says. “James Jamerson Jr. summed it up best: ‘If you don’t feel it, don’t play it.’” Jamerson is his biggest influence. “My heart beats for him like no other electric bassist—except maybe Bernard Edwards [co-founder of the band Chic].”

He also names Charles Mingus. “Before I was a Jamerson devotee, Mingus’s solo on ‘Haitian Fight Song’ told me I was made to be a bassist.”

Merliss lights up when I ask about WakandaOne, a project based in Omaha. In 2016, a guitarist friend invited him to jam at Make Believe Studios. “I played at what I considered my best at the time. Curly Martin took note and invited me to play at Hi-Fi House. He became my greatest teacher.”

Martin’s death two years ago still leaves a void. “He told me, ‘Move out of Nebraska before you turn 30.’” Merliss later moved to the Mid-Atlantic, encouraged by his mother and stepfather in D.C., to immerse himself in a richer jazz scene.

“I started showing up at jams—Mr. Henry’s, The Marx Cafe. I was quiet, except on stage. People started to take note.”

Now based near Baltimore, he frequents Bluebird Café’s Monday night Django jam and Keystone Korner’s Tuesday night “Bright Moments” jam session. Trombonist Christian Hizon, a Peabody peer, tells me: “Ben’s well-spoken, well-read, well-listened. He’s got a peculiar right-hand technique—almost plays with three fingers as one unit.”

Merliss dreams of playing a duet with bassist Will Ledbetter—“Mo Betta”—who’s played with Branford Marsalis. “If I could be worthy of a duet with him someday…”

Encouraged by Baltimore bassist Obasi Akoto, Merliss began composing. His first piece, “Tinette’s Dance,” can be found on YouTube. Now he’s working on a new piece called “Andrea.”

“If I get an idea, I sketch it, try to root it in the original spark. If I don’t like it, I revise,” he says. “‘Tinette’s’ grew from reworking parts of a Filipino bossa nova, ‘Basta’t Kasama Ka.’ I had the bassline in my head but only explored it after laying the basics down.”

He dreams of following in the footsteps—“no pun intended”—of Wayne Shorter.

After an hour, the café grows livelier, the DJ layering in atmospheric tracks. We stand, share farewells, and each drift out onto the streets of Charm City, and I’m looking forward to an opportunity to hear in person this interesting and expressive young man play.

–By Therran Dennis

Therran Dennis is a journalist by trade and a jazz guy at heart, a vocalist and guitarist. When he’s not workshopping the next standard or scribbling verses about The Struggle, he’s keeping tabs on what’s happening in the most vibrant jazz scene in the Mid-Atlantic.