As he continues to explore new horizons, we at Jazz Influencers are thrilled to sit down with the man behind the keys to discuss his remarkable journey, his inspirations, and what’s next on his creative horizon. Dan Farrow’s story is not just about music; it’s about perseverance, passion, and the power of art to transcend borders. Dive into this candid conversation and join us as we uncover the mind and music of one of the industry’s true visionaries.
- Dan, you started your musical journey in Switzerland. Can you share how growing up in Zurich influenced your sound and what inspired your move to the United States to pursue your career?
America—Los Angeles, Hollywood—places everyone knows, but for me, they were distant fantasies until I realized my favorite music came from there. I dreamed of making it, and through determination, I did.
I worked with all three First Families of Funk: James Brown & The J.B.’s, George Clinton & Parliament/Funkadelic, and Sly & The Family Stone. I’ve collaborated with members of Earth, Wind & Fire, Michael Jackson, The Jacksons, Prince, Quincy Jones, Stevie Wonder, Aretha Franklin, The Isley Brothers, Chaka Khan, Marvin Gaye, Little Richard, and many more. I’ve also worked with legendary producers like Richard Perry, Bob Margouleff, Wah Wah Watson, Jeffrey Bowen, and Brian Holland. Recording at top studios, including Capitol Records in Hollywood, has been an incredible journey.
Recently, I performed for a global music company alongside Morris Hayes (Prince), Larry Dunn (Earth, Wind & Fire), Greg Phillinganes (Michael Jackson), and Bernie Worrell (Parliament/Funkadelic). My keyboards were also featured on a Billboard #1 jazz album for seven weeks, recorded by Nils with Gerald Albright, Steve Ferrone, and others.
But let’s start at the beginning.
Zurich was Switzerland’s New York City—big, vibrant, and full of music. My friends had incredible record collections, exposing me to funk, soul, jazz, and rock. I DJ’d at parties, spinning everything from James Brown to Pink Floyd, dreaming of owning the keyboards I heard on records. At 15, I attended KVZ Zurich, Switzerland’s largest business school. One day, playing piano in the massive atrium, I experienced my first standing ovation. That moment changed everything—I knew I had to pursue music. I bought my first keyboard, a Farfisa Professional organ, inspired by Sly Stone. My journey with keyboards had officially begun. My father had Vox, Lowrey, and Hammond organs, but my dream was the legendary Hammond B3. I built my setup with a Fender Rhodes, Mini Moog, and more, chasing the sounds of my heroes. I attended concerts nonstop—Santana, The Rolling Stones, James Brown, Kool & The Gang, and more—fueling my passion. I played in bands, built a 24-track studio, and practiced through the night, determined to master my craft. People doubted music as a career, and when I spoke of moving to America, they laughed—it seemed as impossible as moving to Mars. First, I tried London, but the endless rain wasn’t for me. Then, in 1987, I set foot in the U.S.—New York, San Francisco, and finally, Los Angeles. The moment I arrived, I knew: This is home. Best decision of my life.
- Performing at the Montreux Jazz Festival is a milestone for any artist. How did that experience shape your path and open doors to working with legends like David Sanborn, George Benson, and Al Jarreau?
Montreux, Switzerland, has hosted the world’s longest-running jazz festival since the ’60s, attracting legends like Miles Davis, Prince, and James Brown. I first discovered it as a teenager through TV footage and knew I had to go. At 18, I drove there—just two and a half hours from Zurich—and returned yearly, soaking in performances and discovering new artists. One unforgettable moment was seeing Stevie Ray Vaughan’s European debut—he blew me away with his Hendrix covers. I soon learned about the exclusive after-hours club at Casino Montreux, where festival artists jammed late into the night. Somehow, I got in. When the house band found out I was a musician, they invited me on stage. Playing alongside top American musicians was intimidating at first, but it accelerated my learning of funk, soul, and jazz. I mastered multiple keyboards, lead and backing vocals, and even stage choreography—all of which later made me a sought-after player in the U.S.
By day, I swam in the lake and enjoyed Montreux’s restaurants. By night, I watched jaw-dropping performances, then played in the house band. That’s how I found myself on stage with legends like George Benson, David Sanborn, Joe Sample, and Al Jarreau. Al and I hit it off—we once partied until dawn, and I even gave him a ride back to his hotel. Another time, Chaka Khan, Herbie Hancock, and Wah Wah Watson were sitting near the stage as I played. Afterward, I told them, “Y’all knocked my shoes off!”—accidentally botching the American phrase “knocked my socks off.” They laughed, and that moment stuck with me. I also connected with Stuart Matthewman (Sade’s band), who invited me to London—the first stop before my eventual move to the U.S. Another highlight was jamming with Dennis Chambers, one of my favorite drummers, which left me so inspired I couldn’t sleep for two days. Eventually, I even played Montreux with my own band, using a Yamaha CP70 electric grand and a DX7 synth. I once struck up a conversation at the bar with a drummer—turns out, it was Ndugu Chancler, who had played with Santana and Michael Jackson. When George Duke walked in, Ndugu introduced us, and I was on cloud nine meeting one of my biggest keyboard influences. Years later in L.A., Ndugu invited me to his house, listened to my tracks, and said, “Man, you’re sitting on a million dollars.” His encouragement meant everything.
Montreux also introduced me to Quincy Jones, who later became a mentor. He even introduced me to Miles Davis. Years later, when I recorded keys for a GRAMMY-winning Warner Bros. album with Michael Jackson’s session musicians, Quincy was thrilled. I also played a show for him with The Brothers Johnson, the first funk band he produced before Off the Wall. Quincy’s support was constant—he was always kind, funny, and full of legendary stories. Montreux was more than a festival—it was a launchpad. The people I met, the music I played, and the experiences I had shaped my career in ways I never imagined.
