Showing posts with label Musical Thought. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Musical Thought. Show all posts

Friday, January 10, 2020

Some Thoughts on Our Current Jazz Culture

It happened again this morning: some article in a jazz magazine or another arbiter of fashion said "So-and-So is stretching the boundaries of jazz." 
Under such circumstances, all I can think is "oh...what are they diluting it with now?"
It's like constantly watering down a man's bourbon or mixing rye with fruit drinks and thinking that in doing so we're making an advancement in the art of distilling spirits.
As a culture, we're thinking incorrectly if we view jazz as a nation state that needs to conquer more territory, constantly expanding like an imperialist power (we could call that "neocon jazz"), or that jazz is a technology that needs to keep changing, adapting, and succumbing to marketing schemes of planned obsolescence (call that "software jazz").

"Expanding the boundaries of jazz" is as nonsensical as expanding the boundaries of bread. Wine coolers didn't expand the boundaries of wine. There never were any 'boundaries' to sane people. It's the wrong way to think about it in the first place.
Another way of putting it: to praise a jazz musician for expanding the boundaries of jazz is like praising a hitter for expanding the strike zone. We can look at that hitter and say, well, you might get lucky on some home runs, but it's not a good idea. Basically it means you don't know what you're doing.

Without getting too specific, here are some things I'd like to point out:

1. Wind ensemble music played over a hip hop groove or swing, with space given for stiff soloing over a one or two chord vamp, does not constitute "expansion of the boundaries" of jazz. It's dilution. And too many groups like this are being praised.

2. Grooveless music without blues, but vaguely improvised, does not represent an "expansion of boundaries" but rather a contraction of tradition, and a lack of understanding of what the music actually is. It's non-contextual improvising, that's all.

3. Recycling pop ideas into jazz is not an 'expansion'...it's just recycling stuff from someone else's neighborhood.

By contrast:

What if we were to have a culture (including nightclubs, concert halls, etc) that made a point of understanding and promoting the real thing, without forcing a synthetic ideology of 'expansion' upon it? That "real thing", by the way, is huge, with a tremendous amount of diversity, stretching from New Orleans through bop through modern jazz through the latest blues/groove/improvisatory music released...but I'm pretty sure there is so much ignorance among the critics, club owners, etc, that we're in danger of losing the very roots of our music.

As a point of fact, there are now very few musicians who can truly play New Orleans style jazz at a high level. And by that I mean at a consistently professional level like the musicians of old. Yet this very music, so devalued, it arguably the most joyous music the world has ever known. So we're actually losing the capacity to express such explosive joy if we lose the ability to play this music. Think about that for a moment. Wouldn't it behoove our culture to preserve and promote it?

The answer at the commercial level, or even the level of most academia, seems to be "Nah...make way for those who have 'expanded the limits of jazz'...let's wallow in our sophistication....over our cold grooves....no looking back....no remembering...." America's cultural amnesia, our addiction to the historical delete button, rears it's ugly head again. 

Every few years I get tempted to say to myself "you know what, just go play modern jazz gigs and forget all this...work on tenor and play in big bands, get every gig you can,etc" and I try for a while...but I can't actually bring myself to do it. It takes a lot of work to keep up the type of chops I have in the NOLA tradition on clarinet and soprano.

And then there is the joy. I mean the kind of joy that bursts out of you; that you give to other people. I can't do without this type of explosive joy in my playing, and the only musical key I have to unlock it is this very specific and important "roots jazz" that came forth from New Orleans. This music has lifted my spirit and pulled me through many dark days, and I know other folks it's done that for too. I've had people come up to me at gigs and tell me my music made them a better person, and that they wanted me to play at their funeral. It's that deep. How does a musician answer such a profound statement other than by continuing? No one ever said that to me after a classical concert (and I played many). 
Duke Ellington said somewhere that intelligent musicians master what they can. I've tried to stay intelligent.

But sometimes I think the club owners and managers don't believe in this music enough to give it a real run--to really promote it and commit to the culture of earlier jazz. I believe that if there was an honest commitment to it, we would have successful early jazz bands all over the country, of professional caliber, employed, and with a real following. Symphony orchestras have done it, why not us? When given the shot, I've seen young people very enthusiastic about what we do in nightclubs, but we rarely get a prime spot and if so, almost never get multiple shots at creating and sustaining an audience. My band has had a good run for the last five years, and club owners have been good to us, so I don't want to seem ungrateful in the least...but dang. The press coverage for what we do is limited almost exclusively to enthusiastic amateur sites...and the gigs not much better most of the time. I'm always wondering how long I can afford to keep doing it.

Anyhow, my answer thus far in 2020 is simple: I'm gonna keep swinging and thinking of where to proceed. There has to be a way...



Friday, April 7, 2017

Jazz Proverbs


It's better for a musician to have their technique pulled forward by expression, rather than the other way around.

Always be listening, engaging, acting and reacting in music. Never just recite: participate.

Music is the thing that happens between you and the others in the room, not whatever you think you prepared beforehand.

Always allow the moment to be what it truly is. Don't try to force it to be something else.

A good jazz solo shouldn't be bossed around by the one playing it. It needs its own freedom too.





Saturday, February 18, 2017

Musical Proverb of the Day

All jazz is local.

Whether some world famous jazz musician is visiting your city, playing to a packed theater with three balconies of adoring fans, or you're in some tavern with a band squeezed into a corner and competing with the television set over the bar, all jazz happens in real time with real people in the audience. It's the art of interaction; of the musicians giving something to you and you reciprocating in that place, at that time. It's the art of being present and joyous. It's the art the art that breaks down emotional barriers and allows for everything to come out. It's freedom in honesty, but it can't happen in a room by yourself. It can't happen over the internet via live streaming. It's the real breath of a person through a mouthpiece, the real strike of a hand on a drum skin, the real pull on a bass, the real bodies swaying to that beat, the real eruptions of enthusiasm or, equally important, the hush of reflection that settles over a crowd. There is no substitute for reality, and being who and where you really are. Jazz emphasizes that, and affirms the goodness of reality and existence, even in the midst of great troubles. So if you have some famous cat rolling into town tonight, go hear them: they are jazz for you tonight. But if not, don't be afraid to be a part of what jazz is: the real time sharing of something, of influencing the direction and sound of a band by your very presence. 

All jazz is local.   


Friday, February 10, 2017

Some Thoughts on Unmixed Sound



Here are some thoughts of mine on music that popped up in my Facebook memory feed today. I thought they might just as well be shared here, as they have implications for jazz performance. I've noticed musicians like Paquito D'Rivera suggesting similar things over the last couple of years as well.


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What would happen to our musical culture if there was a five year ban imposed upon light shows, auto tune, click tracks, concert mixing boards, and outrageous levels of artificial amplification?

The American public knows the difference between fresh food and frozen. Knows the difference between Madden and real football. Knows the difference between a real body and an airbrushed photo of a woman who had ten plastic surgeries. But most folks really have no knowledge of the difference between mixed and unmixed sound--or music done with or without producers making it sound acceptable.
Isn't it time musicians began promoting real, honest sound--coming from the actual breath or touch of the musicians?
Let's face it, folks...the real musicians in the industry are taking a pounding, economically. We're basically at the point where we have nothing to lose by being honest. So why not promote honest, real, intimate music making?
(And it's not just the pop industry that I'm talking about....) 




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Sing for the Korg and only the Korg will love you.

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There's a difference between Time and Pulse.
A click track will tell you one, but can't resuscitate the other.

Saturday, July 23, 2016

Some Thoughts on Musical Worthiness

A friend of mine on Facebook, who is a classical style composer, posted a thoughtful question about musical worthiness and self-doubt. I commented from the perspective of a jazz musician, and found what was drawn out by the discussion to be of potential interest to readers of The Jazz Clarinet. Here's an edited version of my response:

The fear of worthiness is crippling and arguably the least useful emotion for any creative artist. Aspiration to excellence is commendable, and even essential, but it should be exercised without the worrisome glance in the mirror, so to speak. The mirror doesn't really matter, and anyhow, the mirror always lies.. 

All creative artists have to trust two very basic things. They have to Trust the Gift, and they have to Trust the Process. Of the two, the process is the bigger challenge. Trusting the gift is pretty obvious, once you accept it: you really have nothing to do with it. You're either capable of being a musician or not. You either have the talent to be able to work hard enough to convincingly play a Mozart Concerto, or a 12 bar blues, or a sing a Puccini aria, or write a fugue, or you don't. If you don't, chances are you're doing something else with your life and not worrying about it. 


Trusting the process is much harder, because everyone's process is different--we have to FIND it first-- and we can get sidelined in life following processes that don't fit us. Trusting the process demands that we sincerely evaluate who we are as musicians and live it honestly, to the best of our ability. So here's the proper use of self-criticism--not the narcissistic glance in the mirror with the worries about worthiness, but the serious look into the musical self; the examination of the musical conscience, so to speak, to see where the true strengths and weaknesses are, accepting them, and putting in place the proper process to bring the best of you out. Oftentimes people need teachers for that...oftentimes, you just need to work with the right people to draw those qualities out. 


It is not necessary or even possible to understand how the "Elysian Spark" you mentioned works. I would suggest it's a theoretical distraction if the actual artist tries to decipher it. It's like this: I believe God created the heavens and the earth. How he did it, I dunno. Worrying about that is some scientist's job. I can be interested in the question, but I can't let it consume me. I've got music to make. Likewise I believe the musical gift was given to me to play this miraculous musical system called jazz...and I believe this mysterious thing called music is out there, is real, is between musicians and an audience and the angels and the stars...but I don't know how it works. We scratch at it with things called chords and scales and meters...but who knows what it really is? Bechet said that the music feeling in us must reach out and join the music outside of ourselves, and that's when it's right. That's about as close as I've ever heard anyone get to it...unless is was Elgar saying that he felt the music was out there, and he was just taking it down. Wynton Marsalis has said some similar things. 


To BE who you ARE. That's the answer. Are you a Beethoven? Not many are. It takes hundreds of Stamitzes and Wagenseil's to make a Haydn, let alone a Beethoven. Satie was a musical cripple, combined with bizarre musical genius. He turned his weaknesses into strengths. He knew who he was. Bruckner patiently outlasted the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune to realize his musical vision...or at least enough of it, despite his crippling self-doubt...Acker Bilk had teeth knocked out on the playground as a kid, and was missing part of his finger, but he wrote his songs and played his own bizarre, powerful, soulful clarinet and touched peoples' lives. 

Play your thing. Sing your song. Find what you do and do it, whether in in rags or tuxedos. Find the true music feeling in you and reach out to the music outside of you and give it away. Peace, friend. You're the real thing as a musician. I've known that since I was kid sitting in Youth Symphony with you conducting us...and at the time I was admittedly more concerned with the pretty blonde girl next to me than Dvorak. Call me a multi-tasker, though, cuz I noticed the real music in you then. Keep Swinging.