When renowned musician/producer Don Was opens the heavy glass doors to the Musical Instrument Museum, he does not just see the MIM Music Theater. 

He sees the ultimate two-week vacation. 

WOMEN IN BUSINESS: The Most Influential Women in Arizona for 2026

WOMEN IN REAL ESTATE: The Most Influential Women in Commercial Real Estate for 2026

“It’s mind-blowing,” said Was of the North Phoenix destination that boasts more than 7,500 instruments from 200 countries and territories 

“The theater itself sounds beautiful and the backline equipment they have is world class. Take a tour of the place and there’s nothing like it in the world. I could take a two-week vacation and do nothing but go there every day.”

Don Was returns to the MIM at 7 p.m. Monday, Aug. 3, with his Pan-Detroit Ensemble — Eminem’s Oscar-winning collaborator keyboardist Luis Resto, saxophonist Dave McMurray, trombonist Vincent Chandler, trumpeter John Douglas, drummer Jeff Canaday, percussionist Mahindi Masai, and vocalist Steffanie Christi’an. 

They will perform originals and interpretations of songs written by the likes of Yusef Lateef, Olu Dara and Henry Threadgill. The collective’s latest record is 2025’s “Groove in the Face of Adversity.” The Pan-Detroit Ensemble is also scheduled to play Grateful Dead tracks, like “King Solomon’s Marbles.” 

“It turns out there’s actually a form to it, which I didn’t realize existed until I tried to figure out what to do with it,” he said. “It starts with that little reference to ‘Inner-City Blues’ and Marvin Gaye.”

“Inner City Blues (Make Me Wanna Holler)” is the closing track from Gaye’s 1971 album, “What’s Going On.”

“We’re Detroit guys, we can feel that part,” said Was via Zoom. 

“[The time signature] 7/4 feels a little weird, so we start with that Marvin Gaye groove and play the songs like that. It completely ‘Detroitified’ a couple of these songs. The important thing is to not play karaoke versions, which you cannot do anyway because the Grateful Dead played the songs differently every night. You have to be yourself. You gotta play like yourself. We are, by design, a Detroit band that grew up listening to the same radio stations and playing in the same bars. We are cut from the same milieu, and we speak the dialect of Detroit music.”

A 7/4 is a time signature in music that contains exactly seven quarter-note beats per measure.

Weir’s death on Jan. 10, 2026, at the age of 78, hit Was hard — personally and professionally. Was performed with Bob Weir’s Wolf Bros from 2018 until Weir died.

“It was the 50th anniversary of the album [‘Blues for Allah’] and, actually, the first night of a tour, when we started playing the record. That was the night Bob Weir died,” he recalled. “I had to tell the audience, who were mostly Deadheads, Bobby was gone. It was tough.”

Was, 73, is well regarded in the music industry. He has worked as a musician, record producer, music director, film composer, documentary filmmaker and radio host. Since 2011, he has helmed the renowned jazz record label Blue Note Records. 

His work has yielded six Grammy Awards, including Album of the Year in 1989 for Bonnie Raitt’s “Nick of Time” and Producer of the Year in 1994. He has also won the San Francisco Film Festival’s Golden Gate Award, British Academy Award (BAFTA), and an Emmy.

Records he produced have sold close to 100 million copies for a wide range of artists from Kris Kristofferson and Ryan Adams to The B-52s, the Rolling Stones and Elton John.

His earlier band, Was (Not Was), scored hits in the 1980s with “Walk the Dinosaur” and “Spy in the House of Love.” 

Was doesn’t let numbers get in the way of creativity.

“You need to get through to people in order for the artistic process to be complete right? In the studio, you don’t really see that. They tell you about chart positions and number of streams. You don’t experience people really feeling it, until you tour.”

Detroit is in his DNA

Was speaks about Detroit like the city and its suburbs are family. He credits the city’s cultural stew — shaped by post‑World War II migration and the boom‑and‑bust cycles of the auto industry — for forging musicians who are versatile, grounded and modest.

“The thing that differentiates Detroit from other cities is after World War II, people came from all over the world to find jobs in the factories. They brought their cultures with them.

“Detroit is a cultural jambalaya. If you’re a musician and you want to play gigs, you’ve got to learn how to play every kind of music. 

“Everyone’s [livelihood] was based on the success of the auto sales this year. If sales were down, the auto workers got laid off. They would move away and take their families to the next job. Because of that, you get a very honest population.

“There’s no point in putting on any airs in Detroit. Everyone knows exactly where you’re coming from. We’re all in the same boat.”

As a result, there is honest, raw that can be heard in songs by John Lee Hooker, Mitch Ryder, Detroit Wheels, MC5, Jack White, J. Dilla, George Clinton or any of the Motown records, he said. 

The musician at the helm of Blue Note

Running Blue Note Records while touring might sound impossible but Was considers it essential. 

“I might be the only record company president around today who’s in a touring band and still makes records,” he said. “If you don’t understand what artists go through, then you can’t really call yourself an artist‑friendly label.

“If I ever get discouraged about any of the business stuff that’s going on, I just think about the legacy that we get to caretake. It’s an honor and it’s fun.” 

Was explained he understands what his musicians go through while writing a song, and what you go through to finish an album. He admires anyone who can “actually finish an album.” 

“I think, ‘Wow, man. You got your ideas completed and you got them down. That’s an accomplishment,” he said. “If you don’t understand what artists go through, then you really can’t call yourself ‘an artist-friendly’ label.

“It involves more than showing up at the gigs, shaking hands and smiling. That’s ‘friendly,’ but it’s not what an artist-friendly label does. You operate with respect for the mindset of the artists.” 

Home that still smells like home

He has homes in Michigan and California, but Detroit keeps him grounded. When he steps off a plane, he can tell he’s in a community that embraces him. 

“The thing that gets me the most is what plants smell like,” he said. “It smells like home. The older you get, the more you crave that. I didn’t always crave that. I’ll be 74 this year. It’s just something I’m noticing. I feel right there. That’s all I can tell you. I can be myself.”