The Bad Plus did not announce themselves. They arrived — at the Village Vanguard in New York in 2001, playing an engagement that jazz critics noticed and wrote about with a combination of enthusiasm and confusion — and the conversation they started has not entirely settled down since.

Ethan Iverson on piano. Reid Anderson on bass. Dave King on drums. All three grew up in the Upper Midwest. Iverson in Menomonie, Wisconsin. Anderson and King in Minneapolis. They met in the Twin Cities, developed as musicians here, played the rooms here — including the Artist’s Quarter — before the group coalesced into the formation that became famous. They are a Twin Cities story wearing New York clothes.

I want to be direct about what I know. I was not in the room for the specific Artist’s Quarter sets that shaped them. But I know the room, and I know the musicians who were in the scene when Iverson, Anderson, and King were cutting their teeth. The Bad Plus did not happen in a vacuum. They happened in a specific place with a specific infrastructure that the Twin Cities had spent decades building.

What Made Them Different

Jazz in the early 2000s had a problem that nobody talked about openly: the mainstream scene had become, in many rooms, a conversation among musicians that the audience was permitted to overhear. The technical standards were high. The emotional connection to anyone sitting in a chair was sometimes unclear.

The Bad Plus played jazz that people who did not listen to jazz could hear. Not because they simplified the music — the playing was demanding, the rhythmic language was complex, the harmonic thinking was sophisticated — but because they understood that swing, in its deepest sense, is a physical invitation. Music that asks your body to respond. They understood that from their first records together, and they never stopped understanding it.

They covered Nirvana and Blondie and Black Sabbath alongside original compositions, and critics who wanted to dismiss that as a publicity stunt were wrong. The covers were not stunts. They were a statement about what jazz is — a practice of taking music seriously wherever it comes from and transforming it through improvisation and ensemble interaction. The Bad Plus took Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” seriously, and what came out was jazz, not irony.

These Are the Vistas, their 2003 Columbia Records debut, was reviewed in The New York Times. Jazz groups do not typically get reviewed in The New York Times. The coverage positioned them as a response to — or a symptom of — jazz’s identity crisis at the turn of the millennium. That framing was a little too convenient, but it was not entirely wrong. They were doing something that the moment needed, and the moment noticed.

The Artist’s Quarter and What It Gave Them

The Artist’s Quarter was a room that rewarded development. Kenny Horst ran it on the principle that the music came first, which meant the musicians who played there were allowed — expected, even — to work things out in front of an audience that had come to listen rather than to be entertained in the most comfortable possible way.

That is the kind of room where a trio of young musicians from Minneapolis could develop the specific chemistry that distinguishes the Bad Plus from every other piano trio. Not the Village Vanguard, not the Blue Note in New York — those rooms came later, after the music was already formed. The formation happened here, in a basement in St. Paul, in front of audiences who were paying attention.

Dave King has talked about this period — about playing the Twin Cities rooms, about the specific culture of the Upper Midwest jazz scene that shaped his approach to the drums. Reid Anderson has made clear that the group’s roots are in Minneapolis, that the city gave them something that other cities might not have. Iverson, who later moved to New York, has written and spoken extensively about music, and the thread of his development runs through the Midwest before it runs through New York.

After the Twin Cities

The Bad Plus moved their base to New York, as jazz groups ambitious enough to play at the Village Vanguard eventually do. They signed to Columbia, then moved to other labels, and eventually Iverson left the group in 2017, replaced by Orrin Evans. The group continued. The original trio’s body of work — roughly fifteen years of recordings, from their 2001 debut through Iverson’s departure — stands as one of the more substantial and distinctive catalogs in jazz of that era.

They were not the only important musicians to come out of the Twin Cities in that period. The Peterson family was still active across multiple generations. Happy Apple, another Twin Cities group with an overlapping membership, was making music that the national press noticed. The Atlantis Quartet was developing at the Artist’s Quarter. Minneapolis was producing jazz musicians at a rate that the city’s size did not predict.

But the Bad Plus were the group that the national conversation latched onto, that got written about in mainstream publications, that opened the door for the idea that jazz happening in Minnesota was worth the attention of people who had not previously thought about Minnesota’s jazz scene. That function — the visibility function, the proof of concept — is not the only thing that matters, but it is not nothing.

What They Tell You About the Twin Cities

The Bad Plus story is a Twin Cities story whether or not it gets told that way. The musicians grew up here. The music developed here. The specific chemistry of that trio — the willingness to swing hard and play complex and reference popular music without apology — is partly a product of the scene they came up through, a scene shaped by the AQ’s culture, by KBEM’s broadcasting, by the general atmosphere of a city that took jazz seriously without being precious about it.

They came from here. The city built the musicians who became that group. And then they went out and showed the world what Minneapolis sounds like when it gets serious about jazz.


The Bad Plus’s recordings are available on streaming platforms. Their Columbia Records albums — particularly These Are the Vistas (2003) and Give (2004) — are the essential entry points. Orrin Evans replaced Ethan Iverson as pianist in 2017; the group continues recording and touring.