(NOTE: In wrapping up my side job as a yoga teacher on Cruise Ship X, I promised some of my students I would give them some follow-up. This is the easiest way to do it. If this is useful to anyone else, take it for what it's worth. Otherwise, go ahead and scroll down to the snarky stuff below...)
Dear fellow voyagers of the damned,
Thank you again for your time and work in our yoga classes. It was a great joy to teach you, and I can guarantee you that I got as much or more from the experience as you did. Some of you asked me "is it safe to do it on my own?", or "how can I keep going?" The answer is yes, and go. Most of you have enough knowledge to keep a basic practice- sun salutations, warriors, gentle backbends, shoulderstands, shavasana (ALWAYS shavasana, aka corpse pose)- going without help. There are also many great resources out there to help you along. I recommend:
BOOKS:
Journey Into Power, by Baron Baptiste: The practice in this book it the closest to the one I taught in the classes. Baron is, I admit, a little full of himself a lot of the time, but this is an excellent breakdown of both the poses we learn, the flow we do them in, and the structure, both physical and philosophical, being the poses. He has several DVDs out, but I think the live ones are the best.
Yoga: The Spirit and Practice of Moving into Stillness, by Eric Schiffman. This is probably my favorite yoga book on the market, mostly for the first four chapters. Eric breaks down, without any fancy words or karmic mumbo-jumbo, the spiritual aspect of yoga, what doing asana (poses) with our body and breath transforms our whole being, if we let it. He has a fluid, approachable writing style, with many easy breathing and meditation exercises. The asana stuff is pretty good also, but if your interested in something beyond the poses, this is the best book I've seen.
Yoga: Poetry of the Body, by Rodney Yee. This was the first yoga book I bought. (and the price on Amazon is down to $7, a good deal) Rodney has a very playful way of explaining poses and a practice, which I try to incorporate into how I teach (and fail most of the time, frankly) The advantage of this book is it gives photos of several modifications for every pose; there's always one you can do.
DVDs:
Yoga Shakti, by Shiva Rea. The most complete DVD on the market, this video lets you customize a practice from over 4 hours of teaching materials, at a variety of levels. It also has several preset classes, which I'd recommend starting with. The photography is beautiful (it's filmed in India), and Shiva's explanations are for the most part very clear.
One WARNING: Shiva is one of the most physically gifted yogis I've ever seen. She is naturally athletic, she's spent twenty years or more studying with some of the great masters of yogasana, and she's both very strong and very bendy. (See the "Shiva flows" excerpt on disc two to see what I'm talking about.) This can be really inspiring for some people, or really deflating for others. More importantly, it can sometimes lead people to try to do to much, in trying to look the way she does on the video. Remember, always go slow and trust what your body says, no matter what you see on the screen or in a class.
CLASSES
The best way to learn yoga is in a class setting, with a good teacher. Yoga Journal online has a huge directory of yoga studios and teachers all over the world. I did a quick search, and found studios in every major cruise port city (except Mobile). If you're porting in Boston, New York, Miami or Vancouver there are some good studios nearby, very worth the $10 or $20 to check out. E-mail me if you want more details.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Monday, August 21, 2006
I deal in dreamers and telephone schemers
(Via Darcy) Fortune magazine asked, “Who needs record companies, anyway?” Well, most of us, according to one disgruntled reply, and another.
For the rest of us, I think we need to modify the question somewhat. The question now becomes “Do I need a label?”
Five years ago I made a record with No Sale Value, called Nu Currency, in it collaboration with a small Boston label. It seemed like a pretty good deal- we both put up some money, I handled most of the production end (and kept the masters), the label was to handle the marketing, relying heavily on the internet, we split any profits. I still feel very good about the album- we made a quality, really interesting, well-produced (and, I think, pretty cool) album for less than $6,000, including duplication costs. (The guys in the band were very generous with their time, but even if they hadn’t been, the album would've come in under $10K.) The label, well, didn’t exactly come through. Most of the distribution didn’t happen, they didn’t help us land any gigs of note, or with much radio play or media. Plus, three members of the band moved, making touring a near impossibility. In other words, no buzz, no interest, no sales. Two years later, after some court proceedings, we split ways. (The label folded not long after.) I left the whole experience with (900 copies of) a good record, a bad taste in my mouth and a little more savvy about making records. (Note I haven’t made one since.)
The CD is still available, actually much more available than it was five years ago. In 2004 I put it on CDBaby, and through them it’s on ITunes and Rhapsody. Anyone anywhere with a computer and a modem can download my music, and I actually get a bigger cut than I would if they bought it at Virgin, and a helluva lot more than if the album were released through Sony, or even Fresh Sound or (insert indie label here). This is good, right?
Not so much. We’ve been downloaded exactly ten times in the past year, at a net profit of about $7. Which is one sandwich at Cosi, last time I checked. (Yup, even on ships I can get at that ridiculous bread.) Maybe if we were gigging more, it'd be different, maybe not. (The primary reason Ani DiFranco et al have been so successful as completely independant artists is the same reason the Bad Plus and MMW have been successful as first small, then big label artists- they gig their assess off. They got there by word of mouth.)
If I had it to do again, I know I wouldn't go with that particular label. But I'm honestly still not sure if I'd have tried to get a label to bite, or done it myself, hired a publicist, etc. I still think if I had been a little smarter, and everyone had been a little less busy, we could've made that album work.
What is/was the advantage of making music on a label? One, they have the equipment to record you. Two, they can get your music to where it can be sold. Three, they can promote you to a far larger audience than you could ever reach yourself. Until recently. Technology has almost completely nullified the first two advantages. And blogs and networking sites like MySpace call the advantage of using a label for the third into question.
The digital economy presents both an opportunity and a problem for any content provider, but especially musicians. The opportunity- you can reach anyone anywhere with your music, for a lot less money than ever before. The problem- so can everyone else. The sheer volume of information available is greater than at anytime in history, and the quality of available music is more uneven than ever before. It takes a lot to cut through the clutter in any meaningful way.
This is the effect of the Long Tail, a book I mentioned in a couple of recent posts, and finished last week. The subtitle of the book is “How the future of business is selling Less of More.” Basically, he says that with this new abundance of content of all sorts, digital and real, the future of financial success is in selling a little of many personalized things than there is in selling a lot of a few mass-market ones. (This essay distills much it better than I can) The author, Chris Anderson, spends most of his time and energy thinking about the implications of this phenomenon on businesses- Ebay, Amazon, KitchenAid, etc. And I think he’s spot on. But he spends no time examining the Long Tail from the point of view of the small content provider, especially one in the arts. But I think he offers us some clues. (All ideas from here on out are influenced by the Long Tail idea, but are entirely mine. Don’t blame Anderson; if he put his mind to this I’m sure he’d figure it out smarter than I will.)
Maybe I’m overly optimistic, but I think artists, not just big ones, need record companies less and less. Through the internet we can do all of the things that a record company can. Some- people who can’t or won’t handle the business end of their lives- still may need labels. But I think the labels, whose margins are already shrinking drastically, won’t hold that advantage forever there either. The time and planning commitments to DIY are daunting, but a lot less daunting than we thing. And the margins are so much better. Some things to consider. (Only because, between my work on Ran Blake’s forthcoming book and N$V’s run at a big resurgence, I’m pondering them myself):
1. I think most of us savvy music types think instinctively that digital networking is critical. If we didn’t, all we'd need is the story of the Arctic Monkeys, who went from garage band to blog and MySpace darlings to SNL guest artists in six months flat. But does that guarantee their album any success, or their career any footing, on a large scale? I for one doubt it. (But I never liked their music, so…)
One of the messages of the Long Tail is that it’s not the quantity of people you reach in the new economy, it’s the quality; the web allows you to more easily reach the people who may actually be interested in what you’re doing, and willing to support it in a meaningful way. For instance, Darcy’s success to date with his big band is based on 1. the obvious quality of his work, and 2. the visibility with a likely audience- musicians, thinkers, bloggers, critics, and fans- that his presence on the web has provided. And he only averages 130 hits per day on his blog- a number I’d kill for, but not that many in the grand scheme of things. Would hitting 300 a day allow him the visibility to sell an album, or tour? (Well, if it weren’t a big band?) 500? IObviously, every band has a tipping point, where word of mouth can translate into some measure of success for the band. (Measured, again, largely by a band creating realistic expectations.) The web makes that tipping point more easily attainable faster. Not easily, but more easily.
(Aside, is MySpace, for all it’s hype, that powerful a tool for content providers? Do MySpace friends translate into record sales, or asses in the seats at gigs? Maybe they do, I sure hope so, but I’m not sold.)
2. Define success for you. I agree with the statement that we’re all looking for the big hit- a gold record, a spot at Boneroo or Caramoor, or whatever. Often what we need to succeed, or at least subsist, is a lot smaller than that. Maria Schneider went to Artistshare for her last album not because she thought she could sell more records there- quite the contrary. But she knew the hurdles to a profit would be much easier to clear there than they ever would have been at a traditional label, and the business process much more transparent. I know Maria is something of a niche superstar who comes in with obvious advantages over band X, but I think the model can work, albeit on a smaller scale, for many more musicians who don’t share her notoriety. After all, if you can make and market a record for $10,000, if you do it yourself you break even at 1,000 or so sold. Not easy (especially for a jazz record) but not impossible either.
I think the answer to “who needs record companies” hinges on the more basic question of “What are you trying to do with your record?” Most jazz musicians, at least, don’t make the bulk of their money on CD royalties. The CDs serve as a foot in the door with clubs, festivals, schools, and other power brokers, which allow them to actually make money. (Well, occasionally.) Does being on a label significantly help that process along or not?
More soon- this post still needs some cleaning up, and a revision is coming. 'Til then, fire away...
For the rest of us, I think we need to modify the question somewhat. The question now becomes “Do I need a label?”
Five years ago I made a record with No Sale Value, called Nu Currency, in it collaboration with a small Boston label. It seemed like a pretty good deal- we both put up some money, I handled most of the production end (and kept the masters), the label was to handle the marketing, relying heavily on the internet, we split any profits. I still feel very good about the album- we made a quality, really interesting, well-produced (and, I think, pretty cool) album for less than $6,000, including duplication costs. (The guys in the band were very generous with their time, but even if they hadn’t been, the album would've come in under $10K.) The label, well, didn’t exactly come through. Most of the distribution didn’t happen, they didn’t help us land any gigs of note, or with much radio play or media. Plus, three members of the band moved, making touring a near impossibility. In other words, no buzz, no interest, no sales. Two years later, after some court proceedings, we split ways. (The label folded not long after.) I left the whole experience with (900 copies of) a good record, a bad taste in my mouth and a little more savvy about making records. (Note I haven’t made one since.)
The CD is still available, actually much more available than it was five years ago. In 2004 I put it on CDBaby, and through them it’s on ITunes and Rhapsody. Anyone anywhere with a computer and a modem can download my music, and I actually get a bigger cut than I would if they bought it at Virgin, and a helluva lot more than if the album were released through Sony, or even Fresh Sound or (insert indie label here). This is good, right?
Not so much. We’ve been downloaded exactly ten times in the past year, at a net profit of about $7. Which is one sandwich at Cosi, last time I checked. (Yup, even on ships I can get at that ridiculous bread.) Maybe if we were gigging more, it'd be different, maybe not. (The primary reason Ani DiFranco et al have been so successful as completely independant artists is the same reason the Bad Plus and MMW have been successful as first small, then big label artists- they gig their assess off. They got there by word of mouth.)
If I had it to do again, I know I wouldn't go with that particular label. But I'm honestly still not sure if I'd have tried to get a label to bite, or done it myself, hired a publicist, etc. I still think if I had been a little smarter, and everyone had been a little less busy, we could've made that album work.
What is/was the advantage of making music on a label? One, they have the equipment to record you. Two, they can get your music to where it can be sold. Three, they can promote you to a far larger audience than you could ever reach yourself. Until recently. Technology has almost completely nullified the first two advantages. And blogs and networking sites like MySpace call the advantage of using a label for the third into question.
The digital economy presents both an opportunity and a problem for any content provider, but especially musicians. The opportunity- you can reach anyone anywhere with your music, for a lot less money than ever before. The problem- so can everyone else. The sheer volume of information available is greater than at anytime in history, and the quality of available music is more uneven than ever before. It takes a lot to cut through the clutter in any meaningful way.
This is the effect of the Long Tail, a book I mentioned in a couple of recent posts, and finished last week. The subtitle of the book is “How the future of business is selling Less of More.” Basically, he says that with this new abundance of content of all sorts, digital and real, the future of financial success is in selling a little of many personalized things than there is in selling a lot of a few mass-market ones. (This essay distills much it better than I can) The author, Chris Anderson, spends most of his time and energy thinking about the implications of this phenomenon on businesses- Ebay, Amazon, KitchenAid, etc. And I think he’s spot on. But he spends no time examining the Long Tail from the point of view of the small content provider, especially one in the arts. But I think he offers us some clues. (All ideas from here on out are influenced by the Long Tail idea, but are entirely mine. Don’t blame Anderson; if he put his mind to this I’m sure he’d figure it out smarter than I will.)
Maybe I’m overly optimistic, but I think artists, not just big ones, need record companies less and less. Through the internet we can do all of the things that a record company can. Some- people who can’t or won’t handle the business end of their lives- still may need labels. But I think the labels, whose margins are already shrinking drastically, won’t hold that advantage forever there either. The time and planning commitments to DIY are daunting, but a lot less daunting than we thing. And the margins are so much better. Some things to consider. (Only because, between my work on Ran Blake’s forthcoming book and N$V’s run at a big resurgence, I’m pondering them myself):
1. I think most of us savvy music types think instinctively that digital networking is critical. If we didn’t, all we'd need is the story of the Arctic Monkeys, who went from garage band to blog and MySpace darlings to SNL guest artists in six months flat. But does that guarantee their album any success, or their career any footing, on a large scale? I for one doubt it. (But I never liked their music, so…)
One of the messages of the Long Tail is that it’s not the quantity of people you reach in the new economy, it’s the quality; the web allows you to more easily reach the people who may actually be interested in what you’re doing, and willing to support it in a meaningful way. For instance, Darcy’s success to date with his big band is based on 1. the obvious quality of his work, and 2. the visibility with a likely audience- musicians, thinkers, bloggers, critics, and fans- that his presence on the web has provided. And he only averages 130 hits per day on his blog- a number I’d kill for, but not that many in the grand scheme of things. Would hitting 300 a day allow him the visibility to sell an album, or tour? (Well, if it weren’t a big band?) 500? IObviously, every band has a tipping point, where word of mouth can translate into some measure of success for the band. (Measured, again, largely by a band creating realistic expectations.) The web makes that tipping point more easily attainable faster. Not easily, but more easily.
(Aside, is MySpace, for all it’s hype, that powerful a tool for content providers? Do MySpace friends translate into record sales, or asses in the seats at gigs? Maybe they do, I sure hope so, but I’m not sold.)
2. Define success for you. I agree with the statement that we’re all looking for the big hit- a gold record, a spot at Boneroo or Caramoor, or whatever. Often what we need to succeed, or at least subsist, is a lot smaller than that. Maria Schneider went to Artistshare for her last album not because she thought she could sell more records there- quite the contrary. But she knew the hurdles to a profit would be much easier to clear there than they ever would have been at a traditional label, and the business process much more transparent. I know Maria is something of a niche superstar who comes in with obvious advantages over band X, but I think the model can work, albeit on a smaller scale, for many more musicians who don’t share her notoriety. After all, if you can make and market a record for $10,000, if you do it yourself you break even at 1,000 or so sold. Not easy (especially for a jazz record) but not impossible either.
I think the answer to “who needs record companies” hinges on the more basic question of “What are you trying to do with your record?” Most jazz musicians, at least, don’t make the bulk of their money on CD royalties. The CDs serve as a foot in the door with clubs, festivals, schools, and other power brokers, which allow them to actually make money. (Well, occasionally.) Does being on a label significantly help that process along or not?
More soon- this post still needs some cleaning up, and a revision is coming. 'Til then, fire away...
Friday, August 18, 2006
10 Days left on Cruise Ship X (yippee!), which means it's time for the:
Top Ten signs you've been a Cruise Ship Musician for Too Damn Long:
(note: I did my damnedest to do a list that had the fewest possible cruise ship in-jokes. I failed.)
10. You see a comedian come on stage, and recite his routine along with him verbatim.
9. Mexico feels more like home than Manhattan.
8. "Greasy Rubbery Grade-C Steak Night" in the mess qualifies as an exciting event.
7. A room with a nine-foot ceiling feels really, really spacious.
6. Gorgeous half-naked dancers prancing around backstage have no effect on you whatsoever.
5. You sing your favorite song the way it appears in a production show.
4. You're accustomed to taking orders from someone who tells fart jokes for a living.
3. You devolve into a sputtering drunk who hates music.
2. You no longer order your drinks in English.
1. You walk down the street yelling "Ciao!" to random passersby.
By six of these measures, I've been on a cruise ship for way too damn long. But you knew that already.
Top Ten signs you've been a Cruise Ship Musician for Too Damn Long:
(note: I did my damnedest to do a list that had the fewest possible cruise ship in-jokes. I failed.)
10. You see a comedian come on stage, and recite his routine along with him verbatim.
9. Mexico feels more like home than Manhattan.
8. "Greasy Rubbery Grade-C Steak Night" in the mess qualifies as an exciting event.
7. A room with a nine-foot ceiling feels really, really spacious.
6. Gorgeous half-naked dancers prancing around backstage have no effect on you whatsoever.
5. You sing your favorite song the way it appears in a production show.
4. You're accustomed to taking orders from someone who tells fart jokes for a living.
3. You devolve into a sputtering drunk who hates music.
2. You no longer order your drinks in English.
1. You walk down the street yelling "Ciao!" to random passersby.
By six of these measures, I've been on a cruise ship for way too damn long. But you knew that already.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Dead Sox?
Both the Boston Globe and the Boston Sports Guy spend ink writing off the Red Sox today- not a good sign. On the bright side, I get to see the Yanks/Sox game on Sunday, my first of the year. (I´m predicting they lose tonight, and lose 3 of 5 to the Yanks, whereby it´s officially over.)
Early returns: I bought Thom Yorke´s Eraser on ITunes this week. Still undecided, but as an album it´s not killing me. Too much of one thing, even if it´s a great thing, is still too much of one thing.
Both the Tipping Point and the Long Tail are recommended reading. I´m putting together a long post about this, in relation to all of the talk about record labels popping around the blogosphere.
And rock nostalgia is the order of the week- Bad Plus for videos, Darcy for sax solos. I never had MTV as a kid, so I abstain.
Early returns: I bought Thom Yorke´s Eraser on ITunes this week. Still undecided, but as an album it´s not killing me. Too much of one thing, even if it´s a great thing, is still too much of one thing.
Both the Tipping Point and the Long Tail are recommended reading. I´m putting together a long post about this, in relation to all of the talk about record labels popping around the blogosphere.
And rock nostalgia is the order of the week- Bad Plus for videos, Darcy for sax solos. I never had MTV as a kid, so I abstain.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Hassle my Hoff
There's bad, there's truly bad, there's awsomely bad... and then there's David Hasslehoff. I don't know how else to put it. And now, thanks to the magic of YouTube, the Hoff's video library, in all its bluescreened glory, is online. Let me point you to to the, er, highlights.
Hooked on a Feeling- The king of all Hasslehoff videos, by far. He flies, he walks on water, and he has a male chorus singing "ooga chaka". What more could anyone ask for.
Jump in My Car- note the one spot where he's wearing a T-shirt that says "Don't Hassle the Hoff." That will be making an appearance at a No Sale Value gig this fall- you better believe it.
Secret Agent Man. James Bond via Pokemon, if you ask me.
Wings of Tenderness- this one is just straight cheese, I'm afraid. Who writes this crap?
If NBC weren't quite so tight-assed about liscencing (another post is due on this topic) the capper would be the Hoff's cameo appearance on the West Wing, where Donna Moss drools all over him at a cocktail party. Can anyone help me here?
(via Latitude 44.2)
Hooked on a Feeling- The king of all Hasslehoff videos, by far. He flies, he walks on water, and he has a male chorus singing "ooga chaka". What more could anyone ask for.
Jump in My Car- note the one spot where he's wearing a T-shirt that says "Don't Hassle the Hoff." That will be making an appearance at a No Sale Value gig this fall- you better believe it.
Secret Agent Man. James Bond via Pokemon, if you ask me.
Wings of Tenderness- this one is just straight cheese, I'm afraid. Who writes this crap?
If NBC weren't quite so tight-assed about liscencing (another post is due on this topic) the capper would be the Hoff's cameo appearance on the West Wing, where Donna Moss drools all over him at a cocktail party. Can anyone help me here?
(via Latitude 44.2)
calling all frogs
In my inbox this morning, from Andrew DiMola, booker at the Lily Pad, the anything goes music venue in Cambridge:
IMPORTANT!!
the lily pad - boston's beloved forum for original, creative music - has been forced to cancel all shows until further notice. due to noise complaints, the cambridge licensing board is obligated to follow the letter of the law in serving the lily pad with a 'cease and desist' order. the lily pad needs YOUR help urgently to survive. we need to show the city that the lily pad is a vital cultural center that serves a valuable function by providing a forum for creative musical expression. by showing our overwhelming support we can help overturn the order.
what you can do to help RIGHT NOW:
1. write a letter of support for the lily pad, stating that the venue is a vital asset that is necessary to the community, and that it does no harm. letters can be sent by mail to the following address:
Richard V. Scali, Chairman
Cambridge License Commission
831 Massachusetts Avenue
Cambridge, MA 02139-3068
or via email:
license@ci.cambridge.ma.us
I am looking forward to both hearing and playing music at the Lily Pad in the future- it's the last place in Boston that gives artists the freedom to pretty much do what they want. (Mind you, we pay up front, which doesn't thrill me, but...) Andrew and Gill, the owner, are two striaght up good guys in a business that discourages any decency, and my letter goes in the mail tomorrow.
IMPORTANT!!
the lily pad - boston's beloved forum for original, creative music - has been forced to cancel all shows until further notice. due to noise complaints, the cambridge licensing board is obligated to follow the letter of the law in serving the lily pad with a 'cease and desist' order. the lily pad needs YOUR help urgently to survive. we need to show the city that the lily pad is a vital cultural center that serves a valuable function by providing a forum for creative musical expression. by showing our overwhelming support we can help overturn the order.
what you can do to help RIGHT NOW:
1. write a letter of support for the lily pad, stating that the venue is a vital asset that is necessary to the community, and that it does no harm. letters can be sent by mail to the following address:
Richard V. Scali, Chairman
Cambridge License Commission
831 Massachusetts Avenue
Cambridge, MA 02139-3068
or via email:
license@ci.cambridge.ma.us
I am looking forward to both hearing and playing music at the Lily Pad in the future- it's the last place in Boston that gives artists the freedom to pretty much do what they want. (Mind you, we pay up front, which doesn't thrill me, but...) Andrew and Gill, the owner, are two striaght up good guys in a business that discourages any decency, and my letter goes in the mail tomorrow.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Wagging the dog
Links o'the day:
(via Darcy)- Who needs record companies?, and a depressed response.
See also The Long Tail, (via Dave Douglas). I'm getting the book version from the library, and will have more to say on Monday.
Vaguely related- Lach's Antifolk Festival hits the East Village (again). Like literally thousands of musicians, I've met Lach a few times, because he booked me at the Sidewalk Cafe in the East Village. Site of some of the best, and worst, singer-songwriter performances I ever heard in NYC. Nice to see he's still doing it, probably grating everyone in the room as he does it.
Completely unrealted: Destination Out has a cut from the remarkable, out of print Dogon A.D., mentioned recently in my 70's post. Fan-bleepin-tastic. I almost feel silly mentioning them every week, bt the posts are that good, consistently.
Finally, I am a bit of a MySpace junkie, I'm embarrased to admit. (more on this in Monday's post) Highlight of the day- a friend comment from one pretty 20-something girl to another. (I don't know either one):
"hey babycakes!!!!!!!!!!!!!! get ready to be stalked by men named DA BOMB and EL GUAPO. "
For the non-Bostonians, El Guapo is a reference to a Red Sox relief pitcher of about five years ago, real name Rich Garces, who was 5'8" and at least 270 pounds. And at his prime, a half-decent pitcher, but nobody really cared about that. He became something of a folk hero in these parts (his nickname loosely translates as 'the handsome one'). So to a Boston townie, this is high comedy.
(via Darcy)- Who needs record companies?, and a depressed response.
See also The Long Tail, (via Dave Douglas). I'm getting the book version from the library, and will have more to say on Monday.
Vaguely related- Lach's Antifolk Festival hits the East Village (again). Like literally thousands of musicians, I've met Lach a few times, because he booked me at the Sidewalk Cafe in the East Village. Site of some of the best, and worst, singer-songwriter performances I ever heard in NYC. Nice to see he's still doing it, probably grating everyone in the room as he does it.
Completely unrealted: Destination Out has a cut from the remarkable, out of print Dogon A.D., mentioned recently in my 70's post. Fan-bleepin-tastic. I almost feel silly mentioning them every week, bt the posts are that good, consistently.
Finally, I am a bit of a MySpace junkie, I'm embarrased to admit. (more on this in Monday's post) Highlight of the day- a friend comment from one pretty 20-something girl to another. (I don't know either one):
"hey babycakes!!!!!!!!!!!!!! get ready to be stalked by men named DA BOMB and EL GUAPO. "
For the non-Bostonians, El Guapo is a reference to a Red Sox relief pitcher of about five years ago, real name Rich Garces, who was 5'8" and at least 270 pounds. And at his prime, a half-decent pitcher, but nobody really cared about that. He became something of a folk hero in these parts (his nickname loosely translates as 'the handsome one'). So to a Boston townie, this is high comedy.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Lo Joe
We interrupt this blog to talk politics for a moment. My sincere apologies.
It was interesting to follow the Lieberman-Lamont Senate campaign from a distance. (If I were in Boston I'd be getting more of the local angle) Instead, I got most of my information from CNN and Salon, which almost balanced each other out. My impression of Lamont is none too positive- like Corzine with better hair- but I'm glad he won. If you're a progressive Democrat, this now becomes THE most important race of the year- if Lamont loses, I think it shows that the left is nothing but a political niche capable of being stomped by the Republicans anytime they want.
However, I think one can overstate Lieberman's loss. Glenn Greenwald is filling in at War Room this week, and I think he nailed it:
"It cannot be argued in good faith that Democrats are intolerant of any elected official who supported the war in Iraq or that such support is some sort of "litmus test." There are scores of pro-war Democrats who are not being ejected from the party or even being challenged electorally. Lieberman went far beyond mere support for the war, and repeatedly adopted the most demonizing and extremist rhetoric used by Bush's supporters to equate opposition to the Bush administration's foreign policies with anti-Americanism and support for America's enemies. It should surprise nobody if the people whom Lieberman has been attacking and demonizing in this manner decide that they would like to have a different senator. "
I think the Dems need to be mch more raucous, and much more creative, in their efforts to push Bush and cronies fully onto the defensive this fall. Lamont could be a step in the right direction. In my mind the jury's still out.
And, to attempt fair and balanced, there is now a politically conservative jazz blog on the web,
It was interesting to follow the Lieberman-Lamont Senate campaign from a distance. (If I were in Boston I'd be getting more of the local angle) Instead, I got most of my information from CNN and Salon, which almost balanced each other out. My impression of Lamont is none too positive- like Corzine with better hair- but I'm glad he won. If you're a progressive Democrat, this now becomes THE most important race of the year- if Lamont loses, I think it shows that the left is nothing but a political niche capable of being stomped by the Republicans anytime they want.
However, I think one can overstate Lieberman's loss. Glenn Greenwald is filling in at War Room this week, and I think he nailed it:
"It cannot be argued in good faith that Democrats are intolerant of any elected official who supported the war in Iraq or that such support is some sort of "litmus test." There are scores of pro-war Democrats who are not being ejected from the party or even being challenged electorally. Lieberman went far beyond mere support for the war, and repeatedly adopted the most demonizing and extremist rhetoric used by Bush's supporters to equate opposition to the Bush administration's foreign policies with anti-Americanism and support for America's enemies. It should surprise nobody if the people whom Lieberman has been attacking and demonizing in this manner decide that they would like to have a different senator. "
I think the Dems need to be mch more raucous, and much more creative, in their efforts to push Bush and cronies fully onto the defensive this fall. Lamont could be a step in the right direction. In my mind the jury's still out.
And, to attempt fair and balanced, there is now a politically conservative jazz blog on the web,
Monday, August 07, 2006
I would sail away home...
21 more days on the voyage of the damned...
David Ryshpien, former voyager and pianist/composer, has a nice piece on his blog about the ongoing post-'73 jazz conversation. Highly recommended. Also, I now have a cameo on Dave Douglas' blog. Validation is always nice.
One thing that strikes me there, I can't get over the fact that in the early 70's Braxton was signed to Arista, a huge label. I guess it just goes to show exactly how much the game has changed. And Braxton himself is an interesting case, one I hope to talk about more soon. Destination Out has some really cool big band stuff he did in the 70's at present.
David Ryshpien, former voyager and pianist/composer, has a nice piece on his blog about the ongoing post-'73 jazz conversation. Highly recommended. Also, I now have a cameo on Dave Douglas' blog. Validation is always nice.
One thing that strikes me there, I can't get over the fact that in the early 70's Braxton was signed to Arista, a huge label. I guess it just goes to show exactly how much the game has changed. And Braxton himself is an interesting case, one I hope to talk about more soon. Destination Out has some really cool big band stuff he did in the 70's at present.
The unfairer festival
(Via Darcy) Jazz @ Lincoln Center presents the Second Annual Diet Coke Women in Jazz Festival.
Put aside the annoying product placement for a second, and assume that festival this is a good idea. Look at the bills. C'mon, people, this is why so many musicians and more forward looking fans get so pissed at Wynton et al so often, even as their rhetoric cools. The booking shows a general failure of imagination. There's an overabundance of mainstream singers (is it a requirement of jazz singers to do a set at least once a week with "very special friends"?), and with the exception of the "Europe night" (I plead ignorance on these artists), the artists they present do okay on their own. Why not pair Elaine Elias with Ingrid Jentsen's group (to name one), or Marian McPartland with the IAJE's Sisters in Jazz group? Why not expiriment with presentation, invite someone like Nancy Ostrovsky or dancers? If you're going to take a chance beyond your usual booking policy, why not, you know, take a chance?
And I know this is a LOT to ask of Lincoln Center, how about representing some of the stylistic diversity in the music today? We're far past the point where just having a latin group (and Spirits of Havana is a damn good one) shows the breadth of the music. Off the top of my head, where are Susie Iberra, Mary Halverson, Patricia Barber, etc? Anyone, anyone?
I should hold off, I know- the late night sets are TBA, and surprisingly affordable for J@LC. But as other "art music" organizations, up to and including many symphony orchestras, find new and interesting ways to present and promote music, the few jazz organizations that do exist, especially J@LC, seem to be stuck in a time warp.
(Oh, the sponsorship. Darcy clubs it, and justly. But maybe I'm just cynical at this point, but if Coke wants to throw money at the arts, they can call it the jolt cola edible undergarments festival for all I care. The music still gets played.)
Put aside the annoying product placement for a second, and assume that festival this is a good idea. Look at the bills. C'mon, people, this is why so many musicians and more forward looking fans get so pissed at Wynton et al so often, even as their rhetoric cools. The booking shows a general failure of imagination. There's an overabundance of mainstream singers (is it a requirement of jazz singers to do a set at least once a week with "very special friends"?), and with the exception of the "Europe night" (I plead ignorance on these artists), the artists they present do okay on their own. Why not pair Elaine Elias with Ingrid Jentsen's group (to name one), or Marian McPartland with the IAJE's Sisters in Jazz group? Why not expiriment with presentation, invite someone like Nancy Ostrovsky or dancers? If you're going to take a chance beyond your usual booking policy, why not, you know, take a chance?
And I know this is a LOT to ask of Lincoln Center, how about representing some of the stylistic diversity in the music today? We're far past the point where just having a latin group (and Spirits of Havana is a damn good one) shows the breadth of the music. Off the top of my head, where are Susie Iberra, Mary Halverson, Patricia Barber, etc? Anyone, anyone?
I should hold off, I know- the late night sets are TBA, and surprisingly affordable for J@LC. But as other "art music" organizations, up to and including many symphony orchestras, find new and interesting ways to present and promote music, the few jazz organizations that do exist, especially J@LC, seem to be stuck in a time warp.
(Oh, the sponsorship. Darcy clubs it, and justly. But maybe I'm just cynical at this point, but if Coke wants to throw money at the arts, they can call it the jolt cola edible undergarments festival for all I care. The music still gets played.)
Friday, August 04, 2006
buzz beep buzz
24 days until Cruise Ship X starts to fade into memory... Help me start reintegrating into musical life again, please.
Seriously, I'm trying to reorient my ears to what's going on in the ambient/electronica/bleep, blurp and groove scene. (Okay, I don't know if there is such a scene, but there ought to be.) I know Squarepusher drops an album next month, (preview track here) My last few purchases in this realm were old Sigur Ros (love it), and old We (mixed bag, mostly good) Assume I know nothing about it, except that I'm interested- I used to know something, but that was when I was in NYC. For a college town, Boston is a surprisingly thin scene.
Any advice? I'll follow up with reviews of the best and worst. Thanks in advance.
Meantime, having nothing to do with the above. Song of the day is "War" by Jonatha Brooke. That about says it all. The original version with Joe Cocker is nice too (link doesn't work, sorry).
Seriously, I'm trying to reorient my ears to what's going on in the ambient/electronica/bleep, blurp and groove scene. (Okay, I don't know if there is such a scene, but there ought to be.) I know Squarepusher drops an album next month, (preview track here) My last few purchases in this realm were old Sigur Ros (love it), and old We (mixed bag, mostly good) Assume I know nothing about it, except that I'm interested- I used to know something, but that was when I was in NYC. For a college town, Boston is a surprisingly thin scene.
Any advice? I'll follow up with reviews of the best and worst. Thanks in advance.
Meantime, having nothing to do with the above. Song of the day is "War" by Jonatha Brooke. That about says it all. The original version with Joe Cocker is nice too (link doesn't work, sorry).
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
No Sale Value
My long dormant almost-pop project No Sale Value is making plans to come out of hibernation and start playing in New York this fall. Baby steps to start, beginning with our own MySpace page. There´s some photos and sounds up, and I´ll try to get it pretty on Friday. As always, advice and feedback are most welcome...
Meanwhile, after some torrential rains, the sun in shining in Playa Del Carmen. And since the weather says we´re wading into a hurricane this weekend, I´d better go enjoy it while I can...
Meanwhile, after some torrential rains, the sun in shining in Playa Del Carmen. And since the weather says we´re wading into a hurricane this weekend, I´d better go enjoy it while I can...
Monday, July 31, 2006
Yup, these are our customers.
On the bandstand of Cruise Ship X, during the dance set. A woman, who looks like a wax museum version of Zsa Zsa Gabor, comes up and asks, with a thick Latin accent:
"Could you play 'Begin the Beguine'? Oh, that is the story of my LIFE!"
I think I'll wait for the movie to come out. We didn't play it, opting for "Tico Tico" instead.
Oh, the MySpace is working again- techincal difficulties on their end, no doubt. I'll be doing a seperate MySpace for No Sale Value soon, as we attempt to resurrect ourselves. More soon.
In the meantime, ManahManah.
"Could you play 'Begin the Beguine'? Oh, that is the story of my LIFE!"
I think I'll wait for the movie to come out. We didn't play it, opting for "Tico Tico" instead.
Oh, the MySpace is working again- techincal difficulties on their end, no doubt. I'll be doing a seperate MySpace for No Sale Value soon, as we attempt to resurrect ourselves. More soon.
In the meantime, ManahManah.
Friday, July 28, 2006
back, forward
Via Doug Ramsey's blog Rifftides, trumpeter Malachi Thompson is dead at age 56. A peer of Lester Bowie's, Thompson's music is a wonderful reminder that so much great jazz embraces tradition and innovation at once. I only heard him once live, with one of Dave Douglas' trumpet ensemble projects, but his playing was riveting. Thankfully, he leaves a deep catalog of recordings. Gone far too soon.
Thankfully still working, Ornette Coleman's new album drops 9/12, and Destination Out has remarkably high-quality excerpts from the recent, soon to be legendary Carnegie Hall concerts. Worth the hype, and then some.
Both Rifftides and Destination Out join the blogroll today.
Thankfully still working, Ornette Coleman's new album drops 9/12, and Destination Out has remarkably high-quality excerpts from the recent, soon to be legendary Carnegie Hall concerts. Worth the hype, and then some.
Both Rifftides and Destination Out join the blogroll today.
Heard on the lower decks
You've never heard "Proud Mary" until you've heard it sung by a half dozen drunk Hungarians. It was sort of closer to the Ike and Tina version...
Speaking of musican monstrosities, the showband has become morbidly fascinated with Europe's "The Final Countdown", to the point where we played it at a crew party this week. It wasn't quite The Bad Plus, despite my best/worst Braxton impression, but it's the closest we'll come on this contract.
This Sunday, Spanish ESPN is showing a Red Sox game. I'm thrilled beyond words- I haven't seen a game in three months, and am in serious withdrawl.
"Technical difficulties" is one thing, but this is nuts: MySpace, in its latest spate of growing pains, seems to have deleted a full third of their member pages, including mine. Aaaargh... Will fix ASAP.
On a more serious note, we were delayed yesterday when the Coast Guard asked us to shadow a Cuban fishing boat until they could get to it. Obviously, you hear about Cuban refugees down here, but this was the first time I had actually seen a boat in person. It's pretty remarkable- more than twenty people in a 6'x12' boat not built for anything like this, out thirty miles from land in four foot waves. This was probably the fruit of weeks and weeks of planning, only for the refugees to be caught and turned back. (Unless they had a lefthanded pitcher in there.) I'm not crazy about either Castro or American policy towards Cuba, but the both the courage and desperation present in a sight like that is simply breathtaking.
Speaking of musican monstrosities, the showband has become morbidly fascinated with Europe's "The Final Countdown", to the point where we played it at a crew party this week. It wasn't quite The Bad Plus, despite my best/worst Braxton impression, but it's the closest we'll come on this contract.
This Sunday, Spanish ESPN is showing a Red Sox game. I'm thrilled beyond words- I haven't seen a game in three months, and am in serious withdrawl.
"Technical difficulties" is one thing, but this is nuts: MySpace, in its latest spate of growing pains, seems to have deleted a full third of their member pages, including mine. Aaaargh... Will fix ASAP.
On a more serious note, we were delayed yesterday when the Coast Guard asked us to shadow a Cuban fishing boat until they could get to it. Obviously, you hear about Cuban refugees down here, but this was the first time I had actually seen a boat in person. It's pretty remarkable- more than twenty people in a 6'x12' boat not built for anything like this, out thirty miles from land in four foot waves. This was probably the fruit of weeks and weeks of planning, only for the refugees to be caught and turned back. (Unless they had a lefthanded pitcher in there.) I'm not crazy about either Castro or American policy towards Cuba, but the both the courage and desperation present in a sight like that is simply breathtaking.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
I should be so lucky
Tonight at Southpaw in Brooklyn, and the next two Wednesdays in Manhattan, A Different Girl [Every Night], Meshell N'Degeocello's new band. If you haven't seen her live, well, just go already. If I started swimming now, would I make it?
Her new MySpace proxy is here. Check out Chris Dave on, well, everything, especially "Love Song #1".
Her new MySpace proxy is here. Check out Chris Dave on, well, everything, especially "Love Song #1".
Pass the jingoism
Not long before I moved away from New York City, my friend Tim Kiah invited me to a barbeque/party/jam session deep in Bed-Sty. When I got there, I realized two things- one, I only knew two people, Tim and Curtis Fowlkes, the great trombonist and Jazz Passenger. Since I’m not the world’s most outgoing person, this creates an obvious social challenge for me. Two, Tim and I were the only white people within a five block radius of this party. That said, I had a great time; lots of good food, and both the hosts and the guest were very warm and welcoming.
The jam session part was really interesting. There were several good players, older guys, pros and former pros, everyone knew tunes, etc. But the language of the music was very specific, a la Coltrane’s quartet circa “Crescent”- lots of pedals, very forceful playing, and a very pentatonic language. Curtis and I were talking about this at one point, and he said something to the effect that most of these players were guys he grew up with, who were very serious about music, but at one point got married, and/or had kids, or something that made them put playing off to the side. Common story, But then he said “the thing is, when they stopped playing, they stopped moving too. You and I have all these other references that these guys never really paid any mind to. That’s why it sounds this way here.”
On some level too, the party was about black pride, in the best possible use of the term. This party was clearly a celebration of that community, a vibrant, loving group people who are all African-Americans, who grew up during or just after the Civil Rights era, and are proud of it and want to pass the best of that experience on. And this particular music was a big part of that identity for these folks, just as hip-hop is for African-Americans in my generation.
I bring this up in the context of the current postings bouncing through cyberjazzland about “European jazz”, whatever that means. Among Americans musicians, critics and scholars, there is a sometimes knee-jerk reaction to European players, bands or movements- they don’t swing, they can’t swing, it isn’t jazz, etc.
Ryshpein and Mwanji have both done a good number refuting these points recently, and I agree. And no doubt some of what informs the branch of American criticism that dismisses a lot of Europeans is myopia and/or politics, the same people that try to define the jazz canon in a way that leaves out fusion and most of the avant-garde.
But the dis-ease with Euro-jazz is on some level the flip side of what made that party so much fun. Americans, especially black Americans feel a justified feeling of ownership of jazz, and I can see how seeing E.S.T get press in the New York Times ahead of Marcus Strickland or whoever can hurt. It’s not necessarily a rational emotion, but it’s a pretty understandable one.
Second, the roots of jazz are, above all else, African rhythm. Traditionally, jazz has been what one of my teachers calls “gut music”, connected to a groove that you feel in your loins. Groove is the main connecting line in all American black music, from Louis Armstrong to Bessie Smith to Ornette to Fats Domino to Prince. (Yet another reason the JALC crowds’ rejection of fusion is so absurd, but I digress…) And for all of the many things that European musicians bring to jazz, the perception is that this is the thing they’re most likely to miss. (This is, of course, not always the case, but that’s the perception. For my money- and off the top of my head- E.S.T., last year’s European critics darlings, couldn’t find a pocket on a pair of extra-large overalls, but there are prominent American bands I would say that about as well. One the other side I think Misha Mengleberg can swing his ass off, for one.) When I think about the “Euro-jazz” albums I go back and listen to a lot, groove is not the main reason I listen to them.
So in a way, this is an argument about cultural ownership and nomenclature more than it is about music. If European musician Q, or American musician T, doesn’t swing in a conventional sense, does that mean it’s bad music. No, it means it’s “bad jazz”. I am so over that word; we need a new one.
(There's about a million different tangents to be picked up here, later.)
The jam session part was really interesting. There were several good players, older guys, pros and former pros, everyone knew tunes, etc. But the language of the music was very specific, a la Coltrane’s quartet circa “Crescent”- lots of pedals, very forceful playing, and a very pentatonic language. Curtis and I were talking about this at one point, and he said something to the effect that most of these players were guys he grew up with, who were very serious about music, but at one point got married, and/or had kids, or something that made them put playing off to the side. Common story, But then he said “the thing is, when they stopped playing, they stopped moving too. You and I have all these other references that these guys never really paid any mind to. That’s why it sounds this way here.”
On some level too, the party was about black pride, in the best possible use of the term. This party was clearly a celebration of that community, a vibrant, loving group people who are all African-Americans, who grew up during or just after the Civil Rights era, and are proud of it and want to pass the best of that experience on. And this particular music was a big part of that identity for these folks, just as hip-hop is for African-Americans in my generation.
I bring this up in the context of the current postings bouncing through cyberjazzland about “European jazz”, whatever that means. Among Americans musicians, critics and scholars, there is a sometimes knee-jerk reaction to European players, bands or movements- they don’t swing, they can’t swing, it isn’t jazz, etc.
Ryshpein and Mwanji have both done a good number refuting these points recently, and I agree. And no doubt some of what informs the branch of American criticism that dismisses a lot of Europeans is myopia and/or politics, the same people that try to define the jazz canon in a way that leaves out fusion and most of the avant-garde.
But the dis-ease with Euro-jazz is on some level the flip side of what made that party so much fun. Americans, especially black Americans feel a justified feeling of ownership of jazz, and I can see how seeing E.S.T get press in the New York Times ahead of Marcus Strickland or whoever can hurt. It’s not necessarily a rational emotion, but it’s a pretty understandable one.
Second, the roots of jazz are, above all else, African rhythm. Traditionally, jazz has been what one of my teachers calls “gut music”, connected to a groove that you feel in your loins. Groove is the main connecting line in all American black music, from Louis Armstrong to Bessie Smith to Ornette to Fats Domino to Prince. (Yet another reason the JALC crowds’ rejection of fusion is so absurd, but I digress…) And for all of the many things that European musicians bring to jazz, the perception is that this is the thing they’re most likely to miss. (This is, of course, not always the case, but that’s the perception. For my money- and off the top of my head- E.S.T., last year’s European critics darlings, couldn’t find a pocket on a pair of extra-large overalls, but there are prominent American bands I would say that about as well. One the other side I think Misha Mengleberg can swing his ass off, for one.) When I think about the “Euro-jazz” albums I go back and listen to a lot, groove is not the main reason I listen to them.
So in a way, this is an argument about cultural ownership and nomenclature more than it is about music. If European musician Q, or American musician T, doesn’t swing in a conventional sense, does that mean it’s bad music. No, it means it’s “bad jazz”. I am so over that word; we need a new one.
(There's about a million different tangents to be picked up here, later.)
Monday, July 24, 2006
headed out
A couple of new destinations today:
Several blogs have recommended the new site Destination Out, a sort of primer for great "avant-garde jazz". (Those pesky quotes again. Remember the Avant-garde was actually a specific art movement in France more than fifty years ago, so I never found it a very useful label.) They include sound clips and notes, and everything there is completely worth checking out. I'm currently digging on some old Prime Time, fractured but funky.
Also, in a yoga magazine I saw an ad for zaadz, which seems to fancy itself a Myspace for idealogues. Not a bad idea, I think, but I'm not sold yet. Seems like an awful lot of happy naval-gazing, and not so much action. Thoughts?
Also, Ryshpien and Mwanji are both hitting the issue of "Euro-jazz", and American backlash. Will say my piece soon- I think it's an interesting topic. And Mwanji's cats keep hitting each other...
Several blogs have recommended the new site Destination Out, a sort of primer for great "avant-garde jazz". (Those pesky quotes again. Remember the Avant-garde was actually a specific art movement in France more than fifty years ago, so I never found it a very useful label.) They include sound clips and notes, and everything there is completely worth checking out. I'm currently digging on some old Prime Time, fractured but funky.
Also, in a yoga magazine I saw an ad for zaadz, which seems to fancy itself a Myspace for idealogues. Not a bad idea, I think, but I'm not sold yet. Seems like an awful lot of happy naval-gazing, and not so much action. Thoughts?
Also, Ryshpien and Mwanji are both hitting the issue of "Euro-jazz", and American backlash. Will say my piece soon- I think it's an interesting topic. And Mwanji's cats keep hitting each other...
Thursday, July 20, 2006
The naked city falls
As you probably know by now, the great pulp fiction author Micky Spillaine died this week at age 88. (Obit here)
One of Spillaine's lesser known contributions to the arts was to inspire a then obscure saxophonist named John Zorn to create his Naked City albums, inspired by Spillaine's writing, with some tracks quoting liberally from Mike Hammer. I remember hearing them in high school through a friend, and being terrified. But, they also introduced me to Joey Baron, Mike Patton, and a whole world of possibilities. We need more of that, always.
One of Spillaine's lesser known contributions to the arts was to inspire a then obscure saxophonist named John Zorn to create his Naked City albums, inspired by Spillaine's writing, with some tracks quoting liberally from Mike Hammer. I remember hearing them in high school through a friend, and being terrified. But, they also introduced me to Joey Baron, Mike Patton, and a whole world of possibilities. We need more of that, always.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Ride the dolphins
One of the favorite sayings I´ve come across in yoga classes: 'If you want to make God laugh, tell her your plans'. To wit:
I was supposed to be spending this week cruising with my brother and his wife, home on a three week vacation from the Peace Corps in Kazakhstan. I can´t overstate how much I was looking forward to it; I haven´t seen either of them in more than a year, and was looking forward to catching up, seeing pictures, and hearing more about their pretty wild time there. Second, having a guest on board makes you a de facto passenger for a week, which means really good food, room service, not having to wait in line, etc. A respite from the annoyances of ship life.
Alas, to quote Julia Sweeney, God said ha. Some, er, issues are keeping Luke and Jen Stuck in Staten Island (wasn´t that a horror movie?) for the forseeable future. (Jen has the details) So I'm stuck in the world of long lines, cheap swill for dinner and, well, the usual. As an added bonus, we were forced to cancel one of the shows last night, leaving hundreds of angry customers. Oh, and my elbow is sore, my voice sounds like two grizzlies were playing volleyball with my larynx, and it's going to rain today on the one port I like. Did I mention my Dog died, my girl left me and I lost all my money in a poker game? (Okay, only one of those is true. And probably not the one you think.)
Forgive my melodramatic melencholy, it´s (mostly) for effect. I´m actually in a really good mood. One of the things I´ve been working on a lot over the past year is starting to detach myself from the results of my actions. That doesn´t mean trying any less, it just means engaging in what you do without worrying so much about how it turns out, or what other people think of it. Yoga has been a major influence here- as anyone who is a serious practicer can tell you, if you´re in a difficult pose, you don´t have time or energy to think about what it looks like, or if anybody else likes it, you have to be completely there doing it.
And I´m amazed how much living with that idea changes my reactions to things. I´m no saint, obvoiusly, but I´m much less rattled than I used to be by Italian officers, or the silliness that comes with ship life, or even the bigger things like missing my siblings. That said, I still wish they were here.
A couple of yoga notes, while I´m thinking of it. The aforementioned elbow soreness, which I think is related to how I sleep, oddly enough, has really transformed my practice, because there´s quite a bit that I just can´t do right now. As a result, I´ve refocused my practice, and one of the real treasures I´ve (re)discovered is Dolphin pose, which looks like Down Dog with you´re elbows on the ground. (Photo here, though I teach it with the wrists parallel to the elbows rather than hands together.) It´s hard, but suddenly things that weren´t available to me, like Handstand without a wall, aren´t such a big deal.
Oh, and it´s the funniest thing. The more yoga classes I teach, the better a teacher I become, the more I carry the calm I get there elsewhere. Go figure.
I was supposed to be spending this week cruising with my brother and his wife, home on a three week vacation from the Peace Corps in Kazakhstan. I can´t overstate how much I was looking forward to it; I haven´t seen either of them in more than a year, and was looking forward to catching up, seeing pictures, and hearing more about their pretty wild time there. Second, having a guest on board makes you a de facto passenger for a week, which means really good food, room service, not having to wait in line, etc. A respite from the annoyances of ship life.
Alas, to quote Julia Sweeney, God said ha. Some, er, issues are keeping Luke and Jen Stuck in Staten Island (wasn´t that a horror movie?) for the forseeable future. (Jen has the details) So I'm stuck in the world of long lines, cheap swill for dinner and, well, the usual. As an added bonus, we were forced to cancel one of the shows last night, leaving hundreds of angry customers. Oh, and my elbow is sore, my voice sounds like two grizzlies were playing volleyball with my larynx, and it's going to rain today on the one port I like. Did I mention my Dog died, my girl left me and I lost all my money in a poker game? (Okay, only one of those is true. And probably not the one you think.)
Forgive my melodramatic melencholy, it´s (mostly) for effect. I´m actually in a really good mood. One of the things I´ve been working on a lot over the past year is starting to detach myself from the results of my actions. That doesn´t mean trying any less, it just means engaging in what you do without worrying so much about how it turns out, or what other people think of it. Yoga has been a major influence here- as anyone who is a serious practicer can tell you, if you´re in a difficult pose, you don´t have time or energy to think about what it looks like, or if anybody else likes it, you have to be completely there doing it.
And I´m amazed how much living with that idea changes my reactions to things. I´m no saint, obvoiusly, but I´m much less rattled than I used to be by Italian officers, or the silliness that comes with ship life, or even the bigger things like missing my siblings. That said, I still wish they were here.
A couple of yoga notes, while I´m thinking of it. The aforementioned elbow soreness, which I think is related to how I sleep, oddly enough, has really transformed my practice, because there´s quite a bit that I just can´t do right now. As a result, I´ve refocused my practice, and one of the real treasures I´ve (re)discovered is Dolphin pose, which looks like Down Dog with you´re elbows on the ground. (Photo here, though I teach it with the wrists parallel to the elbows rather than hands together.) It´s hard, but suddenly things that weren´t available to me, like Handstand without a wall, aren´t such a big deal.
Oh, and it´s the funniest thing. The more yoga classes I teach, the better a teacher I become, the more I carry the calm I get there elsewhere. Go figure.
Monday, July 17, 2006
futility reigns
With the legendary (if watered down) Newport Jazz Festival approaching, the Boston Globe, my hometown paper, decided the world needed a treatise on... smooth jazz.
For those of you who missed it the first time, I said my piece on Mr. Gorelick a few months ago. I've been doing this for six months already?
Oh, and I personally think Chris Botti is the worst hire Sting has EVER made. I've seen him several times live (though not with the great early solo bands) and every other horn player he's used (including some no-names) run rings around him. But he's gone over so big. Yet another reason I'm not a pop star...
For those of you who missed it the first time, I said my piece on Mr. Gorelick a few months ago. I've been doing this for six months already?
Oh, and I personally think Chris Botti is the worst hire Sting has EVER made. I've seen him several times live (though not with the great early solo bands) and every other horn player he's used (including some no-names) run rings around him. But he's gone over so big. Yet another reason I'm not a pop star...
Friday, July 14, 2006
In the meantime
I'm stuck on the damn port manning again, where the computers block streaming media. So, while I rot on Cruise ship X:
The Bad Plus have compiled a great list of Sesame Street videos on YouTube. I'm salivating at the prospect. Darcy also has Stevie doing "Superstitious" for a muppet-filled crowd. I still trip out all these years later about how good, and how sophisticated the Henson stuff is. I think I enjoy it more now than I did as a kid.
Steve Coleman interviews Dave Douglas for Downbeat. The industry stuff is good (but better on an All About Jazz interview which Mwanji has a link to). The one that really interested me was the commentary about Coltrane and voice leading. Really refreshing to hear it put like that.
The Bad Plus have compiled a great list of Sesame Street videos on YouTube. I'm salivating at the prospect. Darcy also has Stevie doing "Superstitious" for a muppet-filled crowd. I still trip out all these years later about how good, and how sophisticated the Henson stuff is. I think I enjoy it more now than I did as a kid.
Steve Coleman interviews Dave Douglas for Downbeat. The industry stuff is good (but better on an All About Jazz interview which Mwanji has a link to). The one that really interested me was the commentary about Coltrane and voice leading. Really refreshing to hear it put like that.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
pen to paper
Warning: this post is more for me than anyone else. I’m early in the process of writing new music for my still to be formed band. I think it’s going to be a six movement suite (for lack of a better word) using some translations of the Persian mystic Rumi as the core of the work. One of my yoga friends introduced me to Rumi a year or two ago, and I was completely hooked in. There’s a rapturous, ecstatic quality to his work (this is a man who, after all, is traditionally linked to the creation of the whirling dervish). It’s well designed, but feels completely spontaneous, which is always a laudable goal for someone writing music involving improvisation. And, needless to say, it’s whupping my ass.
As I continue to gain experience as a writer, I find easier to avoid the old habits that tended to sabotage my writing efforts, say, five years ago. (Of course, I always find new bad habits.) And I don’t know about my peers, but I find when I hear music when I’m in the process of writing something the listening gets filtered through my own writing process- I tend to hear either the strengths or weaknesses of the piece as they relate to how I write. Below is my advice to myself (and to the few writing students I’ve had), based on my own mishaps and what I’ve been listening to lately. Much of it is borrowed; that’s probably the good stuff.
1. Have an idea of what you want. I'm not one of those people that can operate from a tabula rasa. Lately, texts have been an easy "in"; even if I don't actually set them, they give me ideas about colors, or shapes, or moods that I want to convey.
1a. Start writing something. SOMETHING. Even if it sucks. It won't suck forever.
2. You can’t overdevelop an idea. If you think you’ve tapped it out, keep going for another good while yet. The Brookmeyer mantra. I do think this piece of advice has it’s limits; I just haven’t found them yet in my own work. Writers rarely get the benefit of the seven-minute lull in conversation, where the universe seems to hit you in the head with an anvil and say “New topic.” Instead we often jump away when we’re just getting to the meat of what we’re trying to say. (Darcy has a great related post about compositional hooks)
2a. Repetition is not the same thing as development. There's introducing the listener to an idea, there's reminding the listener of an idea, and then there's clubbing the listener in the knees with an idea. Not the same thing. I can’t tell you how many student charts I’ve read that mistake one for the other. Even most successful minimalist pieces are shifting the ground under you even while it seems like nothing is happening (see Reich's music for sixteen musicians). It’s like watching a kaleidoscope, that's why it works.
Musicians are unusual in the arts in that we don’t often operate with an outside counterweight. A visual artist is limited by the size of the canvas. Authors and filmmakers have editors. Composers occasionally have a teacher or a producer, if we’re lucky. More often we're left to ourselves. As a result, you often hear music that badly needs an editor, or music where an internal editor completely overrode the better instincts of the composer.
3. Lyricists: avoid four-syllable words. They almost never work in a song. Unless your name is Joni Mitchell. Then it’s okay.
4. If you write an improvised solo, have a soloist in mind. Even if it’s not who ends up playing it. I’m lucky now that I’ve bounced the idea of this new band off a few people in Boston, and I think they’re in. So I write for them, at least in my head. But even I had no band, I’d write an alto solo imagining Billy Drewes, or a guitar solo imagining my friend Sasha. This helps me in two ways- it allows me to shape what’s happening behind the solo in a less generic way, and it keeps the soloist from wandering outside the piece. Some of this comes from Bob’s thinking, some my own. I think if you trust your soloists, even if you don’t know who they are, they’re going to give you better results than if you try to cage them. And most of the fun of writing a solo is hearing what you’ve never heard in your music before.
5. Don't try to do everything all at once. This is one of the (few) drawbacks about things like the BMI Workshop or college workshop bands. You usually get only one chart per few months performed, so you try to stick everything in.
That's all for now, I think. Further advice is greatly appreciated.
As I continue to gain experience as a writer, I find easier to avoid the old habits that tended to sabotage my writing efforts, say, five years ago. (Of course, I always find new bad habits.) And I don’t know about my peers, but I find when I hear music when I’m in the process of writing something the listening gets filtered through my own writing process- I tend to hear either the strengths or weaknesses of the piece as they relate to how I write. Below is my advice to myself (and to the few writing students I’ve had), based on my own mishaps and what I’ve been listening to lately. Much of it is borrowed; that’s probably the good stuff.
1. Have an idea of what you want. I'm not one of those people that can operate from a tabula rasa. Lately, texts have been an easy "in"; even if I don't actually set them, they give me ideas about colors, or shapes, or moods that I want to convey.
1a. Start writing something. SOMETHING. Even if it sucks. It won't suck forever.
2. You can’t overdevelop an idea. If you think you’ve tapped it out, keep going for another good while yet. The Brookmeyer mantra. I do think this piece of advice has it’s limits; I just haven’t found them yet in my own work. Writers rarely get the benefit of the seven-minute lull in conversation, where the universe seems to hit you in the head with an anvil and say “New topic.” Instead we often jump away when we’re just getting to the meat of what we’re trying to say. (Darcy has a great related post about compositional hooks)
2a. Repetition is not the same thing as development. There's introducing the listener to an idea, there's reminding the listener of an idea, and then there's clubbing the listener in the knees with an idea. Not the same thing. I can’t tell you how many student charts I’ve read that mistake one for the other. Even most successful minimalist pieces are shifting the ground under you even while it seems like nothing is happening (see Reich's music for sixteen musicians). It’s like watching a kaleidoscope, that's why it works.
Musicians are unusual in the arts in that we don’t often operate with an outside counterweight. A visual artist is limited by the size of the canvas. Authors and filmmakers have editors. Composers occasionally have a teacher or a producer, if we’re lucky. More often we're left to ourselves. As a result, you often hear music that badly needs an editor, or music where an internal editor completely overrode the better instincts of the composer.
3. Lyricists: avoid four-syllable words. They almost never work in a song. Unless your name is Joni Mitchell. Then it’s okay.
4. If you write an improvised solo, have a soloist in mind. Even if it’s not who ends up playing it. I’m lucky now that I’ve bounced the idea of this new band off a few people in Boston, and I think they’re in. So I write for them, at least in my head. But even I had no band, I’d write an alto solo imagining Billy Drewes, or a guitar solo imagining my friend Sasha. This helps me in two ways- it allows me to shape what’s happening behind the solo in a less generic way, and it keeps the soloist from wandering outside the piece. Some of this comes from Bob’s thinking, some my own. I think if you trust your soloists, even if you don’t know who they are, they’re going to give you better results than if you try to cage them. And most of the fun of writing a solo is hearing what you’ve never heard in your music before.
5. Don't try to do everything all at once. This is one of the (few) drawbacks about things like the BMI Workshop or college workshop bands. You usually get only one chart per few months performed, so you try to stick everything in.
That's all for now, I think. Further advice is greatly appreciated.
Monday, July 10, 2006
even worse than they say it is...
I flagged this to post on Friday, and the events of the weekend seem only to drive home the point. From Salon's War Room:
The news out of Iraq today is bad -- a car bomber killed 12 and wounded 41 this morning -- but a Newsweek reporter says the underlying story may be worse. In an interview with Foreign Policy, Rod Nordland, the magazine's chief foreign correspondent and former Baghdad bureau chief, says that conditions in Iraq are "much worse" than they're described in the U.S. press.
The reason? The Bush administration does a "great job of managing the news," and the military has begun to crack down on embedded reporters who might otherwise offer a clear assessment of facts on the ground. "Before a journalist is allowed to go on an embed now, [the military] check[s] the work you have done previously," Nordland says. "They want to know your slant on a story -- they use the word 'slant' -- what you intend to write, and what you have written from embed trips before. If they don't like what you have done before, they refuse to take you. There are cases where individual reporters have been blacklisted because the military wasn't happy with the work they had done on embed."
Still, Nordland says that reporters "get out among the Iraqi public a whole lot more than almost any American official, certainly more than military officials do." And he says that there's only so much the administration and the military can do to hide the reality that Iraqis are facing. "It is certainly hard to hide the fact that in the third year of this war, Iraqis are only getting electricity for about 5 to 10 percent of the day," Nordland says. "Living conditions have gotten so much worse, violence is at an even higher tempo, and the country is on the verge of civil war. The administration has been successful to the extent that most Americans are not aware of just how dire it is and how little progress has been made. They keep talking about how the Iraqi army is doing much better and taking over responsibilities, but for the most part that's not true."
On another note, I would love more than most people to see Ann Coulter screw up and get relegated to some pig trough in her beloved red states, but the plagurism charges that came up last week ain't going to do it. I always thought that plagurism happened when you steal ideas, not wire clippings, and what came up so far falls far short of that. If we take her on with ideas, then we can win. Or maybe if we just shout louder than she does...
The news out of Iraq today is bad -- a car bomber killed 12 and wounded 41 this morning -- but a Newsweek reporter says the underlying story may be worse. In an interview with Foreign Policy, Rod Nordland, the magazine's chief foreign correspondent and former Baghdad bureau chief, says that conditions in Iraq are "much worse" than they're described in the U.S. press.
The reason? The Bush administration does a "great job of managing the news," and the military has begun to crack down on embedded reporters who might otherwise offer a clear assessment of facts on the ground. "Before a journalist is allowed to go on an embed now, [the military] check[s] the work you have done previously," Nordland says. "They want to know your slant on a story -- they use the word 'slant' -- what you intend to write, and what you have written from embed trips before. If they don't like what you have done before, they refuse to take you. There are cases where individual reporters have been blacklisted because the military wasn't happy with the work they had done on embed."
Still, Nordland says that reporters "get out among the Iraqi public a whole lot more than almost any American official, certainly more than military officials do." And he says that there's only so much the administration and the military can do to hide the reality that Iraqis are facing. "It is certainly hard to hide the fact that in the third year of this war, Iraqis are only getting electricity for about 5 to 10 percent of the day," Nordland says. "Living conditions have gotten so much worse, violence is at an even higher tempo, and the country is on the verge of civil war. The administration has been successful to the extent that most Americans are not aware of just how dire it is and how little progress has been made. They keep talking about how the Iraqi army is doing much better and taking over responsibilities, but for the most part that's not true."
On another note, I would love more than most people to see Ann Coulter screw up and get relegated to some pig trough in her beloved red states, but the plagurism charges that came up last week ain't going to do it. I always thought that plagurism happened when you steal ideas, not wire clippings, and what came up so far falls far short of that. If we take her on with ideas, then we can win. Or maybe if we just shout louder than she does...
penalty kicks
Overheard on Cruise Ship X this weekend: "Is this soccer stuff over yet? NASCAR's on, dammit." (I don't get NASCAR, I will never get NASCAR. Call me an east coast elitist, but I think it's the biggest waste of gas and beer in American history.)
And Italy wins the world cup. Zidane, what the hell were(n't) you thinking?! Not quite the Hollywood ending everyone was hoping for. Hell, I was rooting pretty hard for France, or better put against Italy all game (reasons to be explained, well, later), and I couldn't muster much after the head butt.
Oh, and France's first goal was due entirely to a bad call. (as really, was Italy's whole run) The guy flopped. Here I agree with some of the louder American sports pundits- soccer, will never, NEVER catch on in the states as long as players keep flopping like fish in a rowboat trying to get foul calls. Our sports culture prizes toughness above all- Willis Reed, Schilling's bloody sock, Jordan scoring 50 with the flu, etc. We think anyone who flops that much is a creampuff who should go buy some, er, toughness. And while I'm no great fan of masochism, I don't think this is necessarily a bad thing.
Unless Creampuff's name is Dwayne Wade, and it's the NBA Finals. But that's another story...
As long as this is turning into a sports blog... thanks to the World Cup I saw American ESPN this month for the first time in ages, and Sportscenter was already doing a blow by blow of next football season. Guys, overkill, just a little? On the bright side, they had the Patriots going to the Superbowl. Or is that the kiss of death?
Finally, my beloved Red Sox are three games up in the East going into the all-star break, and I'm officially in withdrawl. I'm getting results sporadically on (Latin) ESPN and the web. I haven't seen a game all season. It's at the point where I snap at people when I see them wearing a Yankees hat. (I'm buying one foreign friends, who really doesn't know any better, a Red Sox cap, just so they won't wear their damnYanks hat around me. I'm going that bonkers...)
Current listening- Los Gauachos II, Guillermo Klein. I think I want to marry Luciana Souza. My god, she's is there anything she can't sing? More on the album very soon, I promise.
And Italy wins the world cup. Zidane, what the hell were(n't) you thinking?! Not quite the Hollywood ending everyone was hoping for. Hell, I was rooting pretty hard for France, or better put against Italy all game (reasons to be explained, well, later), and I couldn't muster much after the head butt.
Oh, and France's first goal was due entirely to a bad call. (as really, was Italy's whole run) The guy flopped. Here I agree with some of the louder American sports pundits- soccer, will never, NEVER catch on in the states as long as players keep flopping like fish in a rowboat trying to get foul calls. Our sports culture prizes toughness above all- Willis Reed, Schilling's bloody sock, Jordan scoring 50 with the flu, etc. We think anyone who flops that much is a creampuff who should go buy some, er, toughness. And while I'm no great fan of masochism, I don't think this is necessarily a bad thing.
Unless Creampuff's name is Dwayne Wade, and it's the NBA Finals. But that's another story...
As long as this is turning into a sports blog... thanks to the World Cup I saw American ESPN this month for the first time in ages, and Sportscenter was already doing a blow by blow of next football season. Guys, overkill, just a little? On the bright side, they had the Patriots going to the Superbowl. Or is that the kiss of death?
Finally, my beloved Red Sox are three games up in the East going into the all-star break, and I'm officially in withdrawl. I'm getting results sporadically on (Latin) ESPN and the web. I haven't seen a game all season. It's at the point where I snap at people when I see them wearing a Yankees hat. (I'm buying one foreign friends, who really doesn't know any better, a Red Sox cap, just so they won't wear their damnYanks hat around me. I'm going that bonkers...)
Current listening- Los Gauachos II, Guillermo Klein. I think I want to marry Luciana Souza. My god, she's is there anything she can't sing? More on the album very soon, I promise.
Friday, July 07, 2006
How do you like these Apples?
Another of those days that make you pine to be in NYC. Tonight only, Darcy and his Secret Society, some eighteen strong, return to the Bowery Poetry Club at 8pm. If you haven't heard it yet, you shant miss it.
At the same time, old friend Michael Cain and Ron Blake play duo in Brooklyn. Should be fun.
Me, I'll be playing Bryan Adams medleys somewhere off the Bahamas. The things I do for, well, money.
Current listening: O Bebado E A Equilibrista (O Melhor De Joao Bosco) A "best of", so it's a little hit or miss (the studio stuff is a little too synthelicious for my taste), but the live stuff is amazing. The man's charisma jumps out of my headphones. I feel like I should be running around bouncing off the walls just listening to it.
At the same time, old friend Michael Cain and Ron Blake play duo in Brooklyn. Should be fun.
Me, I'll be playing Bryan Adams medleys somewhere off the Bahamas. The things I do for, well, money.
Current listening: O Bebado E A Equilibrista (O Melhor De Joao Bosco) A "best of", so it's a little hit or miss (the studio stuff is a little too synthelicious for my taste), but the live stuff is amazing. The man's charisma jumps out of my headphones. I feel like I should be running around bouncing off the walls just listening to it.
Monday, July 03, 2006
degeneration X part 3
Final thoughts on the subject, for now... (see parts one and two first)
I did finish Jenkins' book Decade of Nightmares last week, and recommend it. I found myself agreeing with the big opinions in his book, even if I found some of the details a little redundant, and if sometimes he may overstretch some of his arguments. In many ways, he reads the conservatism of the 80s as a counterreaction to some of the big ideas- sexual liberation, drug culture, and a strategic detante with Communism- of the Sixties. The push was exacerbated by the misery of outside circumstance in the seventies- major inflation, oil crisis, upswing in violent crime, and terrorist crises- combined with very shrewd political calculation on the American political right, and equal ineptitude on the political left.
Without pushing the analogy too hard, the move towards conservatism and traditionalism in jazz in this time fits with the bigger picture. And to some extent, all history has a pendulum quality to it- swings one way, then the other. (In music, it's interesting to note that there was a big, popular Dixieland revival in jazz just as bebop was beginning to rear its head.) However, how hard and how fast it swings can certainy be influenced by the parties involved, which I think is why we are still living with a Bush White House, and why we're talking about the jazz neoconservatives of the 80s twenty years later.
I think I hit the big connections between Jenkins' theory and jazz in the previous posts, but one more hit me as I finished reading "Decade". He notes a marked change in rhetoric in the late 70s and early 80s, a move (back) towards big good vs. evil, us vs. them talk in politics. JFK referred to the Soviets as "our adversaries", Reagan as the "the Evil Empire". With that was a new wave of bogeymen in the American imagination- Commies, terrorists, serial killers, child molesters, etc. Which further facilitates a return to the language of us vs. them. Again, the language used by the jazz neoconservatives coming up at that time neatly fit that trend. Rather than try to understand all the changes that were happening, it was a lot easier to just write them off, and try to create an enemy. (Miles, notably)
Also, I've directed a lot of the attention in this post to Wynton Marsalis, because, well, it's easy. And I fear my tone towards him is very harsh, which may not be quite fair. Personally, I owe a lot to Wynton. When I was a teenager learing to play, I saw him a few times (I was definitely a fan), and as he was with so many young musicians, he was very encouraging, taking time out to talk with me, recommend records, even at one point giving me a lesson (where he absolutely took me apart). A lot of his advice and criticism made me a much better player, and I know there are literally hundreds of musicians who can say the same thing. Many of whom are certainly making interesting, creative music now. Obviously, I've grown up since then, and I'm no longer willing to give as much brain space to his vision as I was then- quite the contrary.
One final qestion- I mentioned earlier the diminishing of the "jazz market", at least measured by record sales. (One could also use the shrinking number of American jazz festivals and clubs, less grant money, etc.) Did the neoconservative movement in jazz accelerate that trend, keep it from being worse, or none of the above? I for one am not sure- I can see cogent arguments on both sides. Thoughts?
I did finish Jenkins' book Decade of Nightmares last week, and recommend it. I found myself agreeing with the big opinions in his book, even if I found some of the details a little redundant, and if sometimes he may overstretch some of his arguments. In many ways, he reads the conservatism of the 80s as a counterreaction to some of the big ideas- sexual liberation, drug culture, and a strategic detante with Communism- of the Sixties. The push was exacerbated by the misery of outside circumstance in the seventies- major inflation, oil crisis, upswing in violent crime, and terrorist crises- combined with very shrewd political calculation on the American political right, and equal ineptitude on the political left.
Without pushing the analogy too hard, the move towards conservatism and traditionalism in jazz in this time fits with the bigger picture. And to some extent, all history has a pendulum quality to it- swings one way, then the other. (In music, it's interesting to note that there was a big, popular Dixieland revival in jazz just as bebop was beginning to rear its head.) However, how hard and how fast it swings can certainy be influenced by the parties involved, which I think is why we are still living with a Bush White House, and why we're talking about the jazz neoconservatives of the 80s twenty years later.
I think I hit the big connections between Jenkins' theory and jazz in the previous posts, but one more hit me as I finished reading "Decade". He notes a marked change in rhetoric in the late 70s and early 80s, a move (back) towards big good vs. evil, us vs. them talk in politics. JFK referred to the Soviets as "our adversaries", Reagan as the "the Evil Empire". With that was a new wave of bogeymen in the American imagination- Commies, terrorists, serial killers, child molesters, etc. Which further facilitates a return to the language of us vs. them. Again, the language used by the jazz neoconservatives coming up at that time neatly fit that trend. Rather than try to understand all the changes that were happening, it was a lot easier to just write them off, and try to create an enemy. (Miles, notably)
Also, I've directed a lot of the attention in this post to Wynton Marsalis, because, well, it's easy. And I fear my tone towards him is very harsh, which may not be quite fair. Personally, I owe a lot to Wynton. When I was a teenager learing to play, I saw him a few times (I was definitely a fan), and as he was with so many young musicians, he was very encouraging, taking time out to talk with me, recommend records, even at one point giving me a lesson (where he absolutely took me apart). A lot of his advice and criticism made me a much better player, and I know there are literally hundreds of musicians who can say the same thing. Many of whom are certainly making interesting, creative music now. Obviously, I've grown up since then, and I'm no longer willing to give as much brain space to his vision as I was then- quite the contrary.
One final qestion- I mentioned earlier the diminishing of the "jazz market", at least measured by record sales. (One could also use the shrinking number of American jazz festivals and clubs, less grant money, etc.) Did the neoconservative movement in jazz accelerate that trend, keep it from being worse, or none of the above? I for one am not sure- I can see cogent arguments on both sides. Thoughts?
Friday, June 30, 2006
Holding pattern
I'm suffering from a severe case of brain block today. I did finish Decade of Nightmares yesterday, but I need a minute yet to chew on it. Will comment on Monday, hopefully wrapping up my 70s/Wynton posts, for now.
In the meantime:
critic Doug Ramsey's blog, on abuses of jazz and the English language. The one English abuse that drives me crazy, that I didn't see there- "most unique", "very unique", "extremely unique", etc. You can't modify unique, dammit, that's why it's unique.
Sigh...
Good friend and inspiration Ran Blake is on MySpace, (A sign of the apocolypse, I'm not sure) The music he posted is well worth the trip
In the meantime:
critic Doug Ramsey's blog, on abuses of jazz and the English language. The one English abuse that drives me crazy, that I didn't see there- "most unique", "very unique", "extremely unique", etc. You can't modify unique, dammit, that's why it's unique.
Sigh...
Good friend and inspiration Ran Blake is on MySpace, (A sign of the apocolypse, I'm not sure) The music he posted is well worth the trip
Monday, June 26, 2006
Theatre of the absurd, seaside edition...
From the "did I really see that?" department of Cruise Ship X:
-We have our own small contingent of Socceroos (Aussie fans) on board Cruise Ship X, and watching a World Cup match with them is a sight to behold. Like a lot of Americans, they're not espcially tuned in to the nuances of the game (contrast with, well, just about every other nationality on the ship). Which doesn't stop them from going bonkers while watching- screaming at everything, up and down out of their chairs, a lot of yelling at the ref, etc. (And remember, this is a lifelong Red Sox fan talking). Oh, and they were sober- it was the middle of the day, and most of us still had to work. They're playing Italy as I speak-we have a big Italian contingent on board. I wish I were watching them right now- the fans, not the game. Though I'm sure that will be fun too. (EDIT- as anyone follwing the Cup knows, the Socceroos lost to Italy on a phantom foul call in the box, one of the most eggregious pieces of bad officiating I've seen in awhile. A win for Italy, a loss for soccer. At this point, Ukraine is the only team left I'm really rooting for- family ties- and Italy is the only team I'm rooting against...)
-Between ships and life in the arts, you get used to seeing, well, quirky people. But this one still got me- one of my new colleagues talks to his food while he spoons it out of the dinner buffet. Talks to it: "Well, you look like a great piece of chicken. And how about you? And don't you pineapple look great today..." In a room full of people, no less. I've never seen the likes of it. Have you, Mr. Computer Keyboard?
-We have our own small contingent of Socceroos (Aussie fans) on board Cruise Ship X, and watching a World Cup match with them is a sight to behold. Like a lot of Americans, they're not espcially tuned in to the nuances of the game (contrast with, well, just about every other nationality on the ship). Which doesn't stop them from going bonkers while watching- screaming at everything, up and down out of their chairs, a lot of yelling at the ref, etc. (And remember, this is a lifelong Red Sox fan talking). Oh, and they were sober- it was the middle of the day, and most of us still had to work. They're playing Italy as I speak-we have a big Italian contingent on board. I wish I were watching them right now- the fans, not the game. Though I'm sure that will be fun too. (EDIT- as anyone follwing the Cup knows, the Socceroos lost to Italy on a phantom foul call in the box, one of the most eggregious pieces of bad officiating I've seen in awhile. A win for Italy, a loss for soccer. At this point, Ukraine is the only team left I'm really rooting for- family ties- and Italy is the only team I'm rooting against...)
-Between ships and life in the arts, you get used to seeing, well, quirky people. But this one still got me- one of my new colleagues talks to his food while he spoons it out of the dinner buffet. Talks to it: "Well, you look like a great piece of chicken. And how about you? And don't you pineapple look great today..." In a room full of people, no less. I've never seen the likes of it. Have you, Mr. Computer Keyboard?
Open mouth, infert footh
In light of new information, revisions are necessary. Or, a great big, "ooops."
Thanks, Darcy, for taking me to the mat for glaring holes in my late '70s album list (See comments on that post). In many cases, I had my dates mixed up (for some reason I thought the Kenny Wheeler ECM records, "Native Dancer" and Old and New Dreams happened later than they did. And I just dropped the ball on some stuff- Body Meta, Soap Suds, the killin' Mingus Changes records). Some of the other albums he mentions I don't think have aged well, so I hope he'll agree to disagree. A new list of "need to buys" would include all of the above, except the Changes records, which I own already. I feel silly.
And please note I just said "we have to consider the possibility..." I certainly don't feel qualified to either deify or condemn any era of music or art- that's not the job of a musician, or a critic for that matter. Certainly not the 70s, where in case you can't tell I have to claim a fair bit of ignorance. But the fact remains that the musical neocons of the '80s didn't come from a vacuum- I for one would like to know why. Other theories, or comments on mine are most welcome...
Also, I'm currently reading "Decade of Nightmares", the Phillip Jenkins book Dave Douglas mentioned in his original post. Recommended; it's fascinating- the picture he paints of the 1970s (culture at large, so far music has been mentioned only in passing, jazz not at all) is far bleaker, and far more absurd than the one in my head, which surprised me. I think there's more in his book that's relevant here- but I want to finish the book first.
Thanks, Darcy, for taking me to the mat for glaring holes in my late '70s album list (See comments on that post). In many cases, I had my dates mixed up (for some reason I thought the Kenny Wheeler ECM records, "Native Dancer" and Old and New Dreams happened later than they did. And I just dropped the ball on some stuff- Body Meta, Soap Suds, the killin' Mingus Changes records). Some of the other albums he mentions I don't think have aged well, so I hope he'll agree to disagree. A new list of "need to buys" would include all of the above, except the Changes records, which I own already. I feel silly.
And please note I just said "we have to consider the possibility..." I certainly don't feel qualified to either deify or condemn any era of music or art- that's not the job of a musician, or a critic for that matter. Certainly not the 70s, where in case you can't tell I have to claim a fair bit of ignorance. But the fact remains that the musical neocons of the '80s didn't come from a vacuum- I for one would like to know why. Other theories, or comments on mine are most welcome...
Also, I'm currently reading "Decade of Nightmares", the Phillip Jenkins book Dave Douglas mentioned in his original post. Recommended; it's fascinating- the picture he paints of the 1970s (culture at large, so far music has been mentioned only in passing, jazz not at all) is far bleaker, and far more absurd than the one in my head, which surprised me. I think there's more in his book that's relevant here- but I want to finish the book first.
Friday, June 23, 2006
degeneration X
As promised, I have been chewing on Dave Douglas' post about a recent history of post-war jazz/improvisational music/creative improvised music/whatever. (For simplicity, I'll say "jazz" in quotes. Duke didn't like the word much,yet another way he was ahead of his time.) Here goes...
First, thanks to Dave for putting this question on the table. I think this is a question that confronts a lot of us in my generation, those jazz musicians who were growing up while the “young lions” were the rage in jazz, and since moved beyond that paradigm (or at least tried to). This is probably going to be several posts, and I’m not going to pretend to be thorough. I don’t know if one unbiased history of anything is ever possible, but many people attacking a history from many angles often produces an fairly accurate mosaic.
To that end, I think it’s important to ask this question of as many people who were actually there as we can, players and fans, critics and thinkers, especially as too active at that time pass on.
Dave asks a huge question, the question of post-war "jazz", and why it went down the way it did. Inside are a hundred smaller questions, that perhaps can add up to a whole. And at the outset, let me say that I’m somewhat hamstrung by the simple fact that I wasn’t there. I was five when the seventies ended, and my most sophisticated listening experience in 1980 was with a Sesame Street LP on a toy record player. There was certainly music around the house; my parents first date was at the Boston Symphony (they’ve been subscribers ever since) my dad has been a jazz buff since high school, and I remember going to young people’s concerts and the like. I think these factors did influence my future life as a “jazz” musician and composer, but I wasn’t really paying any attention then.
(Aside: I’ve heard that there is at least one history of the loft scene in the works- anyone know anything. Also, Allan Chase has started teaching a great course at NEC called “Jazz Styles: The Avent-Garde”, which I’m told is great, and covers the loft scene especially well. Of course, he started teaching it the year after I finished.)
The bit in Dave’s post that immediately speaks to me is here:
“The wild experimentation of "the sixties" (idealized version circa 2006) caused a backlash and a retreat to "safer" territory that threatens to completely obliterate memory of the wonderful music that happened.”
If we can agree on that statement (and I certainly do), then: What caused the backlash? What was it in the culture of jazz that allowed Wynton Marsalis, Stanley Crouch, Martin Williams et al to define (or redefine) the music in a much more conservative direction in the 1980s? (that’s an overstatement, I know, but not a wild overstatement) I’m particularly interested in the period from 1974 (which Dave christens, fairly enough, the end of sixties jazz) until 1981, when Wynton begins to record as a solo artist.
(Side note 2- I’m curious about Stanley Crouch’s transformation from loft scene drummer to an intellectual pillar for musical neocons. How did that come to be- did he have a sort of Bizarro Road to Damascus moment? Did the fact that his own career as a player never took off play into it? Or is there something else? I’ve often wondered.)
First, let’s look at the big picture. I think you can look at in the late 70’s as a best of times, worst of times moment for jazz.
Worst of times: A lot of popular music in the ‘60s as Dave defines them (’65-’74)- Hendrix, Cream, the Dead, Sly and the Family Stone, The Doors, Jefferson Airplane, the Beatles, etc. etc.- was music that was on some level experimental and improvisational. That dovetails well with a jazz sensibility; it’s not a giant leap for a casual listener from “Sunshine of Your Love” or “Stand” to, say “Jack Johnson” or “Science Fiction”. And the amorphous, unscripted nature of early FM radio facilitated this kind of crossover.
Fast forward to 1978. Disco and glam rock are kings. FM radio has been reigned in, not to the Clear Channel levels of today, but it has been formatted and tamed. (For a great account of the history of pop radio, especially in relation to disco, see Fredric Dannen’s great book Hit Men) It’s a lot bigger leap for the casual listener from Kiss to Air than it was from Cream to Miles. The winds of popular culture were blowing in a way that wasn’t as friendly to the vanguard in 1978 as they were in 1972. And it’s not just in music. Think about important, at least somewhat popular films of the early ‘70s- MASH, Godfather, Clockwork Orange, McCabe and Mrs. Miller, 2001. Late 70’s- Star Wars, Jaws, Animal House. See a little difference? (Overstatement, certainly. But work with me)
Second, as Dave mentioned, Miles retired, and Ellington and Armstrong died. There was no one present in jazz who could replace them in the public imagination. There were many, many great leaders present in the music, but none who combined musical talent and personal aura to carry them into the public sphere at anything close to the level of any of the three we lost. That’s not anybody’s fault, certainly, but it can’t be overlooked. And who’s the next person to come along able to command the public eye in that way? Wynton. But I’m getting way ahead of myself.
On the other hand, the best of times. Some of the great names in jazz were making fantastic music- on “pop” projects. Think about the lineups both live and in studio in the ‘70s. Steely Dan- Wayne Shorter, Steve Gadd, the Breckers, Steve Erskine, etc. Joni Mitchell- Wayne, Jaco, Erskine, Brecker, Don Alias, et al, and also the LA Express band. Herbie with Stevie Wonder. Brecker’s amazing solo on Paul Simon’s “Still Crazy”. Phil Woods with Billy Joel. The original SNL house band. Joe Henderson tours with Blood, Sweat and Tears. And on, and on.
Neither of these two developments- narrow tastes and radio play, and big money commercial work- is particularly friendly to creating the kind of audience for creative music that existed five years before. So there’s one possible answer, or part of it.
However, I think there were some more local issues that also affected “jazz” in the late 70’s in such a way as to allow the musical neoconservative thrust ascent we saw in the ‘80s. But that’s my next post- stay tuned.
First, thanks to Dave for putting this question on the table. I think this is a question that confronts a lot of us in my generation, those jazz musicians who were growing up while the “young lions” were the rage in jazz, and since moved beyond that paradigm (or at least tried to). This is probably going to be several posts, and I’m not going to pretend to be thorough. I don’t know if one unbiased history of anything is ever possible, but many people attacking a history from many angles often produces an fairly accurate mosaic.
To that end, I think it’s important to ask this question of as many people who were actually there as we can, players and fans, critics and thinkers, especially as too active at that time pass on.
Dave asks a huge question, the question of post-war "jazz", and why it went down the way it did. Inside are a hundred smaller questions, that perhaps can add up to a whole. And at the outset, let me say that I’m somewhat hamstrung by the simple fact that I wasn’t there. I was five when the seventies ended, and my most sophisticated listening experience in 1980 was with a Sesame Street LP on a toy record player. There was certainly music around the house; my parents first date was at the Boston Symphony (they’ve been subscribers ever since) my dad has been a jazz buff since high school, and I remember going to young people’s concerts and the like. I think these factors did influence my future life as a “jazz” musician and composer, but I wasn’t really paying any attention then.
(Aside: I’ve heard that there is at least one history of the loft scene in the works- anyone know anything. Also, Allan Chase has started teaching a great course at NEC called “Jazz Styles: The Avent-Garde”, which I’m told is great, and covers the loft scene especially well. Of course, he started teaching it the year after I finished.)
The bit in Dave’s post that immediately speaks to me is here:
“The wild experimentation of "the sixties" (idealized version circa 2006) caused a backlash and a retreat to "safer" territory that threatens to completely obliterate memory of the wonderful music that happened.”
If we can agree on that statement (and I certainly do), then: What caused the backlash? What was it in the culture of jazz that allowed Wynton Marsalis, Stanley Crouch, Martin Williams et al to define (or redefine) the music in a much more conservative direction in the 1980s? (that’s an overstatement, I know, but not a wild overstatement) I’m particularly interested in the period from 1974 (which Dave christens, fairly enough, the end of sixties jazz) until 1981, when Wynton begins to record as a solo artist.
(Side note 2- I’m curious about Stanley Crouch’s transformation from loft scene drummer to an intellectual pillar for musical neocons. How did that come to be- did he have a sort of Bizarro Road to Damascus moment? Did the fact that his own career as a player never took off play into it? Or is there something else? I’ve often wondered.)
First, let’s look at the big picture. I think you can look at in the late 70’s as a best of times, worst of times moment for jazz.
Worst of times: A lot of popular music in the ‘60s as Dave defines them (’65-’74)- Hendrix, Cream, the Dead, Sly and the Family Stone, The Doors, Jefferson Airplane, the Beatles, etc. etc.- was music that was on some level experimental and improvisational. That dovetails well with a jazz sensibility; it’s not a giant leap for a casual listener from “Sunshine of Your Love” or “Stand” to, say “Jack Johnson” or “Science Fiction”. And the amorphous, unscripted nature of early FM radio facilitated this kind of crossover.
Fast forward to 1978. Disco and glam rock are kings. FM radio has been reigned in, not to the Clear Channel levels of today, but it has been formatted and tamed. (For a great account of the history of pop radio, especially in relation to disco, see Fredric Dannen’s great book Hit Men) It’s a lot bigger leap for the casual listener from Kiss to Air than it was from Cream to Miles. The winds of popular culture were blowing in a way that wasn’t as friendly to the vanguard in 1978 as they were in 1972. And it’s not just in music. Think about important, at least somewhat popular films of the early ‘70s- MASH, Godfather, Clockwork Orange, McCabe and Mrs. Miller, 2001. Late 70’s- Star Wars, Jaws, Animal House. See a little difference? (Overstatement, certainly. But work with me)
Second, as Dave mentioned, Miles retired, and Ellington and Armstrong died. There was no one present in jazz who could replace them in the public imagination. There were many, many great leaders present in the music, but none who combined musical talent and personal aura to carry them into the public sphere at anything close to the level of any of the three we lost. That’s not anybody’s fault, certainly, but it can’t be overlooked. And who’s the next person to come along able to command the public eye in that way? Wynton. But I’m getting way ahead of myself.
On the other hand, the best of times. Some of the great names in jazz were making fantastic music- on “pop” projects. Think about the lineups both live and in studio in the ‘70s. Steely Dan- Wayne Shorter, Steve Gadd, the Breckers, Steve Erskine, etc. Joni Mitchell- Wayne, Jaco, Erskine, Brecker, Don Alias, et al, and also the LA Express band. Herbie with Stevie Wonder. Brecker’s amazing solo on Paul Simon’s “Still Crazy”. Phil Woods with Billy Joel. The original SNL house band. Joe Henderson tours with Blood, Sweat and Tears. And on, and on.
Neither of these two developments- narrow tastes and radio play, and big money commercial work- is particularly friendly to creating the kind of audience for creative music that existed five years before. So there’s one possible answer, or part of it.
However, I think there were some more local issues that also affected “jazz” in the late 70’s in such a way as to allow the musical neoconservative thrust ascent we saw in the ‘80s. But that’s my next post- stay tuned.
degeneration X part 2, or the hole in my record collection
Continued from above (I hope...)
I like my records collection, and am some proud of it. I think most musicians are. While it’s not comprehensive, I think I own a lot of great music from most periods of “jazz”, whatever that is. And I think I own a lot of the records that teachers and peers tell you that you’re “supposed to” own as you grow in this music- Kind of Blue, the Okeh Ellington, Shape of Jazz to Come, Hot Fives and Sevens, etc. So in considering this question of post-Vietnam jazz, I looked at my collection to see what jazz records I have from ’74-’79, and which ones I actually still listen to and like? What I came up with- Pat Metheny’s “Bright Size Life”, Ebenhart Weber’s “Later That Evening”, the Joni-Jaco recordings (jazz in my book), “Conference of the Birds”, and a few Keith Jarrett recordings, particularly the European and American quartet records. It took me a good couple of hours to compile that short list. (What’s the date on Vanguard Band’s “Music of Bob Brookmeyer” and the Haden Liberation Music records? They’d be there.) My “still have to buy” list from that period- Hempill’s “Dogon AD”, Braxton’s ’74 solo saxophone record, Oregon, “Air Lore”, and Lacy’s “Evidence”. (What’s the date on Gil Evans’ “Svengali” and “Hendrix” records? If they fit the time frame, they’re there too.)
Part of this is due to personal taste, certainly- I just don’t like Return to Forever, and am not as big a Weather Report, Brecker, or Chet Baker fan as many of my peers. I’m not dogging them; just not my thing. And you could (and I hope you do) bombard me with omissions. But even so, I can’t think of another seven-year period in the history of jazz where my list is that short. My list of “still have to buy” from ’67 to ’74, or ’36 to ’43, hell, even ’87 to ‘94 is longer than that favorites list.
My point- we have to at least acknowledge the real possibility that, especially in the jazz’ mainstream, where culture at large is most likely to see, hear and buy the music, the period following Miles retirement was at least somewhat fallow. Dave’s list of important artists, a great list is sorely lacking musicians working American musicians who could safely be described as in the mainstream. (By contrast, great jazz artists who I adore working from ’74 to ’81 who are missing, rightly, IMHO, from that list- Stan Getz, Sonny Rollins, Elvin Jones, Horace Silver, Gerry Mulligan, Bill Evans, Freddie Hubbard, Ornette Coleman, Art Farmer, J.J. Johnson, Art Blakey. I could add a dozen more easily, but there is a bloody jazz hall of fame, and I can’t think of a single memorable record from any of them in that period. And I think at least five of them made great records in the seven years following this stretch.) That hole allowed Wynton, an very accomplished technical player with a style that falls clearly in the jazz mainstream, to walk in as the great black hope.
Which of course begs the question, if this is the case, why were the late ‘70s so bad for jazz. Again, I wasn’t there, but hindsight being 20/20, these are a few of the factors I’d consider:
Recording technology and trends did not favor the sound of jazz, especially of acoustic music. When I think of jazz records in the 70s, especially “straight-ahead” albums (VSOP, Hubbard, and Henderson solo records, etc.) I think of over-separation, overly wet post-production, acoustic instruments that don’t sound the least bit acoustic, and hyper-separation that bares no resemblance how you’d hear this music live. And personally, I hate it. This sound may serve Queen and Kiss well, but I don’t think it does good things for acoustic music. (The shining exception of this era is ECM records, which either get better sounds or make these techniques work in the music’s favor. But I’ll get there.)
Wynton and his ilk went out of their way to put in their album notes “recorded without the dreaded bass direct”. I don’t blame them; from a pure sound point of view, I’ll take “Black Codes” or “Royal Garden Blues” over a VSOP record any day, though the playing on the latter may be more interesting. And don’t underestimate the impact of the sound of a given recording; I think there are some Blue Note recordings in the ‘60s that would be much more obscure than they are if they didn’t have that classic “Blue Note Sound”. Recording quality and style matters. A lot.
The aforementioned loss of Miles, Duke and Louis Armstrong. Bears repeating.
Drugs. An unpleasant topic, certainly, but I think it’s safe to say that many prominent musicians, who were still fairly young, lost productivity and quality of work to serious drug addictions in the 70s. Miles was the most obvious, and Woody Shaw the most tragic, but I can think of several others offhand. I think we all can. (I’d rather not name names, if it’s all the same to everyone. But I could.) This isn’t the only time it’s happened in the music, but imagine a clean ___________, _________, and _________ making records in 1976, and we at least have a different discography of the ‘70s.
As previously mentioned, the pop sensibility of 1978 was a lot less friendly to a lot of the inherent aesthetics of jazz- subtlety, group interplay, spontaneity in performance, etc.- than the pop sensibility of 1972. Think about the jazz that succeeds commercially in the late 70’s- it tends to lean more toward the anthemic (Metheny, RTF, Headhunters) than music of five years prior would. And these artists, intentionally or not, usher in “smooth jazz”, which is easy to have a backlash against. Again, enter the young lions.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that commercial considerations should be the only, or a primary means of evaluating any music. That’s artistic suicide. But I don’t want to pretend that sales don’t matter. The last forty years have seen the market share defined as “jazz” dwindle from something like 10% of domestic record sales to something like 2%. We can’t let that dictate how we define great art, but we can’t pretend that it’s unimportant. (My dad, who teaches two dead languages, another niche field, likes to say that academic fights are some of the fiercest you’ll ever see, because the stakes are so tremendously low.) Speaking of which…
The rise of jazz education. What it now the IAJE was founded as the NAJE in 1968, and by the mid-‘70s you had several established, big-name jazz programs in major universities- North Texas, Indiana, Berklee, Eastman, etc- influencing the music on some level, and certainly the musicians who made it. The Notre Dame Jazz Festival was firmly entrenched as something of a kingmaker for major college programs. (To wit, trumpeter Allan Vizzutti still mentions his awards there on the cover of his method books) In the mid-’70s Jamie Abersold starts publishing his “How to Improvise” series. In many ways, this was the era of the One O’Clock Band, a model of jazz education built around a big band playing a core repitiore of late Basie, Kenton, Herman, and Buddy Rich charts, often but not always at a very high technical level, with an aesthetic of “higher, faster, louder”. This education tended to shortchange pre-bop styles of jazz (notably Ellington) in favor of a bebop and post-bop language, especially Bird and Trane. The better of the players in these programs then graduated into the touring bands- Fergeson, Rich, Herman, etc.- and then eventually landed teaching gigs in academia themselves. Oh, and they were overwhelmingly white, in a music that has been historically predominantly African-American. At this time in American history, the barely post-Civil Rights era, race is a very open wound. (I know this is a gross overgeneralization- Max Roach, Bunky Green and Yuseff Lateef and other prominent black musicians were involved in jazz ed very early on, but they weren’t the majority by a long shot. Still aren’t, for better or worse.)
This is a huge topic, which I can’t do justice here. But in this context, can you see how the building of a (disproportionately white) jazz education establishment would enable the emergence of a strong (predominantly black) conservative movement in the music? The music has lost its way, the cry goes, fusion corrupting some of the great ones on one hand (Wynton often called Miles a “great general who turned to the other side”), and a new, mostly white institution teaching a corrupted, impure version of jazz on the other. And, this movement has an automatic audience of eager, committed, talented, young people looking for direction- the students (and often the teachers) at these schools!
This dovetails into the thorny issue of race. My favorites of the ‘70s list up there- most of those records have two things in common- most are on ECM, a European label- the American quartet is the exception- and most of the leaders, and musicians in fact, are white. (obvious exceptions- Braxton, Dewey Redman w/Keith, Air) I can’t say that about any other era in jazz, at least in my collection.
I don’t want to overstate anything here, since it’s such volcanic ground, but I think I can say that ECM is the first time in the history of jazz where a non-American voice has had such a huge impact, both commercially and aesthetically, on jazz, always considered an American music. (And as has been documented, the amount of influence ECM producer Mannfred Eicher had and has over the recordings ECM releases is substantial, at least on par with Teo Macero and Ahmed Ertigun in their heydays.) And the recognizable faces of ECM at its’ heyday were the Pat Metheny Group and Keith Jarrett, both white musicians who Caucasian influences- Jarrett the classical piano tradition, Metheny American folk music- are obvious.
Here’s where Wynton comes in. He’s handsome, he’s clean, he’s black, he’s photogenic, he’s articulate. He presents jazz with an intellectual underpinning that links what he’s doing to a recognizable, very teachable, and very American musical lineage, and advocates a jazz canon that dovetails with the curricular needs of jazz educators. He puts Ellington and Armstong, the two fallen giants, at the forefront of what he’s doing, and goes head to head with Miles, the third, in very public controversies. He has a great press machine, thanks in no small part to his huge record label. Oh, and like him or not (and in case you can’t tell, I fall closer to the “nots”), he plays his ass off.
Wynton achieved an enormous amount in redirecting the course of jazz in the ‘80s in a more conservative direction. A lot of it was certainly due to his own enormous personal energy, talent and stamina, no doubt. But he also walked into a moment that favored him for reasons he had little to do with. The right person at the right time, I’m equally convinced. So there’s one answer, or at least a part of one. Fire away.
I like my records collection, and am some proud of it. I think most musicians are. While it’s not comprehensive, I think I own a lot of great music from most periods of “jazz”, whatever that is. And I think I own a lot of the records that teachers and peers tell you that you’re “supposed to” own as you grow in this music- Kind of Blue, the Okeh Ellington, Shape of Jazz to Come, Hot Fives and Sevens, etc. So in considering this question of post-Vietnam jazz, I looked at my collection to see what jazz records I have from ’74-’79, and which ones I actually still listen to and like? What I came up with- Pat Metheny’s “Bright Size Life”, Ebenhart Weber’s “Later That Evening”, the Joni-Jaco recordings (jazz in my book), “Conference of the Birds”, and a few Keith Jarrett recordings, particularly the European and American quartet records. It took me a good couple of hours to compile that short list. (What’s the date on Vanguard Band’s “Music of Bob Brookmeyer” and the Haden Liberation Music records? They’d be there.) My “still have to buy” list from that period- Hempill’s “Dogon AD”, Braxton’s ’74 solo saxophone record, Oregon, “Air Lore”, and Lacy’s “Evidence”. (What’s the date on Gil Evans’ “Svengali” and “Hendrix” records? If they fit the time frame, they’re there too.)
Part of this is due to personal taste, certainly- I just don’t like Return to Forever, and am not as big a Weather Report, Brecker, or Chet Baker fan as many of my peers. I’m not dogging them; just not my thing. And you could (and I hope you do) bombard me with omissions. But even so, I can’t think of another seven-year period in the history of jazz where my list is that short. My list of “still have to buy” from ’67 to ’74, or ’36 to ’43, hell, even ’87 to ‘94 is longer than that favorites list.
My point- we have to at least acknowledge the real possibility that, especially in the jazz’ mainstream, where culture at large is most likely to see, hear and buy the music, the period following Miles retirement was at least somewhat fallow. Dave’s list of important artists, a great list is sorely lacking musicians working American musicians who could safely be described as in the mainstream. (By contrast, great jazz artists who I adore working from ’74 to ’81 who are missing, rightly, IMHO, from that list- Stan Getz, Sonny Rollins, Elvin Jones, Horace Silver, Gerry Mulligan, Bill Evans, Freddie Hubbard, Ornette Coleman, Art Farmer, J.J. Johnson, Art Blakey. I could add a dozen more easily, but there is a bloody jazz hall of fame, and I can’t think of a single memorable record from any of them in that period. And I think at least five of them made great records in the seven years following this stretch.) That hole allowed Wynton, an very accomplished technical player with a style that falls clearly in the jazz mainstream, to walk in as the great black hope.
Which of course begs the question, if this is the case, why were the late ‘70s so bad for jazz. Again, I wasn’t there, but hindsight being 20/20, these are a few of the factors I’d consider:
Recording technology and trends did not favor the sound of jazz, especially of acoustic music. When I think of jazz records in the 70s, especially “straight-ahead” albums (VSOP, Hubbard, and Henderson solo records, etc.) I think of over-separation, overly wet post-production, acoustic instruments that don’t sound the least bit acoustic, and hyper-separation that bares no resemblance how you’d hear this music live. And personally, I hate it. This sound may serve Queen and Kiss well, but I don’t think it does good things for acoustic music. (The shining exception of this era is ECM records, which either get better sounds or make these techniques work in the music’s favor. But I’ll get there.)
Wynton and his ilk went out of their way to put in their album notes “recorded without the dreaded bass direct”. I don’t blame them; from a pure sound point of view, I’ll take “Black Codes” or “Royal Garden Blues” over a VSOP record any day, though the playing on the latter may be more interesting. And don’t underestimate the impact of the sound of a given recording; I think there are some Blue Note recordings in the ‘60s that would be much more obscure than they are if they didn’t have that classic “Blue Note Sound”. Recording quality and style matters. A lot.
The aforementioned loss of Miles, Duke and Louis Armstrong. Bears repeating.
Drugs. An unpleasant topic, certainly, but I think it’s safe to say that many prominent musicians, who were still fairly young, lost productivity and quality of work to serious drug addictions in the 70s. Miles was the most obvious, and Woody Shaw the most tragic, but I can think of several others offhand. I think we all can. (I’d rather not name names, if it’s all the same to everyone. But I could.) This isn’t the only time it’s happened in the music, but imagine a clean ___________, _________, and _________ making records in 1976, and we at least have a different discography of the ‘70s.
As previously mentioned, the pop sensibility of 1978 was a lot less friendly to a lot of the inherent aesthetics of jazz- subtlety, group interplay, spontaneity in performance, etc.- than the pop sensibility of 1972. Think about the jazz that succeeds commercially in the late 70’s- it tends to lean more toward the anthemic (Metheny, RTF, Headhunters) than music of five years prior would. And these artists, intentionally or not, usher in “smooth jazz”, which is easy to have a backlash against. Again, enter the young lions.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that commercial considerations should be the only, or a primary means of evaluating any music. That’s artistic suicide. But I don’t want to pretend that sales don’t matter. The last forty years have seen the market share defined as “jazz” dwindle from something like 10% of domestic record sales to something like 2%. We can’t let that dictate how we define great art, but we can’t pretend that it’s unimportant. (My dad, who teaches two dead languages, another niche field, likes to say that academic fights are some of the fiercest you’ll ever see, because the stakes are so tremendously low.) Speaking of which…
The rise of jazz education. What it now the IAJE was founded as the NAJE in 1968, and by the mid-‘70s you had several established, big-name jazz programs in major universities- North Texas, Indiana, Berklee, Eastman, etc- influencing the music on some level, and certainly the musicians who made it. The Notre Dame Jazz Festival was firmly entrenched as something of a kingmaker for major college programs. (To wit, trumpeter Allan Vizzutti still mentions his awards there on the cover of his method books) In the mid-’70s Jamie Abersold starts publishing his “How to Improvise” series. In many ways, this was the era of the One O’Clock Band, a model of jazz education built around a big band playing a core repitiore of late Basie, Kenton, Herman, and Buddy Rich charts, often but not always at a very high technical level, with an aesthetic of “higher, faster, louder”. This education tended to shortchange pre-bop styles of jazz (notably Ellington) in favor of a bebop and post-bop language, especially Bird and Trane. The better of the players in these programs then graduated into the touring bands- Fergeson, Rich, Herman, etc.- and then eventually landed teaching gigs in academia themselves. Oh, and they were overwhelmingly white, in a music that has been historically predominantly African-American. At this time in American history, the barely post-Civil Rights era, race is a very open wound. (I know this is a gross overgeneralization- Max Roach, Bunky Green and Yuseff Lateef and other prominent black musicians were involved in jazz ed very early on, but they weren’t the majority by a long shot. Still aren’t, for better or worse.)
This is a huge topic, which I can’t do justice here. But in this context, can you see how the building of a (disproportionately white) jazz education establishment would enable the emergence of a strong (predominantly black) conservative movement in the music? The music has lost its way, the cry goes, fusion corrupting some of the great ones on one hand (Wynton often called Miles a “great general who turned to the other side”), and a new, mostly white institution teaching a corrupted, impure version of jazz on the other. And, this movement has an automatic audience of eager, committed, talented, young people looking for direction- the students (and often the teachers) at these schools!
This dovetails into the thorny issue of race. My favorites of the ‘70s list up there- most of those records have two things in common- most are on ECM, a European label- the American quartet is the exception- and most of the leaders, and musicians in fact, are white. (obvious exceptions- Braxton, Dewey Redman w/Keith, Air) I can’t say that about any other era in jazz, at least in my collection.
I don’t want to overstate anything here, since it’s such volcanic ground, but I think I can say that ECM is the first time in the history of jazz where a non-American voice has had such a huge impact, both commercially and aesthetically, on jazz, always considered an American music. (And as has been documented, the amount of influence ECM producer Mannfred Eicher had and has over the recordings ECM releases is substantial, at least on par with Teo Macero and Ahmed Ertigun in their heydays.) And the recognizable faces of ECM at its’ heyday were the Pat Metheny Group and Keith Jarrett, both white musicians who Caucasian influences- Jarrett the classical piano tradition, Metheny American folk music- are obvious.
Here’s where Wynton comes in. He’s handsome, he’s clean, he’s black, he’s photogenic, he’s articulate. He presents jazz with an intellectual underpinning that links what he’s doing to a recognizable, very teachable, and very American musical lineage, and advocates a jazz canon that dovetails with the curricular needs of jazz educators. He puts Ellington and Armstong, the two fallen giants, at the forefront of what he’s doing, and goes head to head with Miles, the third, in very public controversies. He has a great press machine, thanks in no small part to his huge record label. Oh, and like him or not (and in case you can’t tell, I fall closer to the “nots”), he plays his ass off.
Wynton achieved an enormous amount in redirecting the course of jazz in the ‘80s in a more conservative direction. A lot of it was certainly due to his own enormous personal energy, talent and stamina, no doubt. But he also walked into a moment that favored him for reasons he had little to do with. The right person at the right time, I’m equally convinced. So there’s one answer, or at least a part of one. Fire away.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Spinning backwards
I'm on port manning this week, which means I can't leave the ship, so blogging will be sorely limited. In the meantime, check this from Dave Douglas- a question worth chewing on. I am, and will have some thoughts Friday.
Friday, June 16, 2006
Did I graduate yet?
Like many unsigned musicians, I put the No Sale Value CD up for sale on CDBaby, the great site where any (and every)one can sell their music on very reasonable terms, and the only people that give indies easy ITunes access. The founder, Derek Silvers, ahas put up a lot of how-top and advice essays on success, starting with "Life is Like High School".
Putting aside for a minute how revolting a thought that is (and I had a relatively good high school experience), I think he's right more often than not, especially as it relates to the music business. Which is probably why I'm on cruise ship X and not touring with No Sale Value at present...
I bring that up because I'm asked by friends back home about the actual living on the boat, and well, Cruise Ship X (and, I hear, all of them) is, well, just like high school, only with LOT more alcohol. Cliques, created to some extent by occupation and language, lots of social awkwardness, more than a smattering of the kind of "you know, she likes you" stuff I thought I left behind when I hit 30. Hell, 25! Silly me. Most days I just watch it go by but yesterday it bit me on the ass in a big way- nothing exciting, just typical boy-girl BS that I'll probably forget in 24 hours. Barely worthy of Univision, but still...
Why the hell do grown adults do this to themselves? If you took a step back and actually looked at it, you'd laugh, then hit yourself on the head with something blunt and heavy. Yet every night it continues...
Okay, enough needless bitching. Current listening is a Ron Miles kick, now Laughing Barrell, but previously Woman's Day with Frisell, and My Cruel Heart, a masterpiece. That Ron is not better known, despite sideman turns with Frisell and Charlie Hunter, is a crime, especially when the likes of Nick Payton is as close to a jazz star as you get these days. What especailly amazes me is he creates these wild, loopy soundscapes, ("My Cruel Heart", "You Taste...", then cuts through them like a cannonball out of the fuzz. There's an integrity, both musical and spiritual, that shines through every note he plays, so that even the most dissonant line sounds like an angel's call. Something I deeply aspire to.
Putting aside for a minute how revolting a thought that is (and I had a relatively good high school experience), I think he's right more often than not, especially as it relates to the music business. Which is probably why I'm on cruise ship X and not touring with No Sale Value at present...
I bring that up because I'm asked by friends back home about the actual living on the boat, and well, Cruise Ship X (and, I hear, all of them) is, well, just like high school, only with LOT more alcohol. Cliques, created to some extent by occupation and language, lots of social awkwardness, more than a smattering of the kind of "you know, she likes you" stuff I thought I left behind when I hit 30. Hell, 25! Silly me. Most days I just watch it go by but yesterday it bit me on the ass in a big way- nothing exciting, just typical boy-girl BS that I'll probably forget in 24 hours. Barely worthy of Univision, but still...
Why the hell do grown adults do this to themselves? If you took a step back and actually looked at it, you'd laugh, then hit yourself on the head with something blunt and heavy. Yet every night it continues...
Okay, enough needless bitching. Current listening is a Ron Miles kick, now Laughing Barrell, but previously Woman's Day with Frisell, and My Cruel Heart, a masterpiece. That Ron is not better known, despite sideman turns with Frisell and Charlie Hunter, is a crime, especially when the likes of Nick Payton is as close to a jazz star as you get these days. What especailly amazes me is he creates these wild, loopy soundscapes, ("My Cruel Heart", "You Taste...", then cuts through them like a cannonball out of the fuzz. There's an integrity, both musical and spiritual, that shines through every note he plays, so that even the most dissonant line sounds like an angel's call. Something I deeply aspire to.
precursors, in C Major
As promised in my Spirit Music review, I’ve put those two versions of a “White Note Exercise" Bob Brookmeyer had me do when I started studying with him. My initial effort is here, and Bob’s revision is here. Both are pdfs, so hopefully everyone can read them. (It’s useful to put them side by side if you can- that’s what I do.) One notation quirk- the fermatas are there basically in place of footballs. Imagine each adding 4-12 beats, depending on the context.
Also, as promised, new links and blogroll are up to the right- I'm still tweaking, but I think it's an improvement. Feedback is most welcome.
Also, as promised, new links and blogroll are up to the right- I'm still tweaking, but I think it's an improvement. Feedback is most welcome.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Sad news
I am sad to hear of the passing of Gyorgy Ligeti, brilliant composer and thinker. I was turned on to him in college with a required listeing to "Lux Aeterna" and have branched out a little beyond it, not enough. The Bad Plus have a great tribute, and as usual, Darcy has the details
Speaking of TBP, many many thanks for adding me to their blogroll, especially after the less than thrilled review of "Suspicious Activity" I gave them. I will be updating my roll soon to include them, and several others that I read regularly. If you want to be there and introduce yourself to my eleven or so daily victims (up from nine last week, Huffington watch out!), please let me know, And to fix the damn formatting...
Speaking of TBP, many many thanks for adding me to their blogroll, especially after the less than thrilled review of "Suspicious Activity" I gave them. I will be updating my roll soon to include them, and several others that I read regularly. If you want to be there and introduce yourself to my eleven or so daily victims (up from nine last week, Huffington watch out!), please let me know, And to fix the damn formatting...
Monday, June 12, 2006
Goooooooal
A couple of random notes to start the week:
World Cup fever has taken over the better part of Cruise Ship X. (And unlike last time, you don't have to stay up until 4am to watch them) And I admit to being sucked in a bit- I'm in an office pool and everything. I'm clueless as to just about anything- I think Brazil is going to win because, well, everyone seems to think Brazil is going to win.
Happening alongside it stateside is, of course the NBA Finals. Wouldn't it be something if the best player in the NBA finals in the US is a German (Nowitzki, doing his best Larry Bird impression lately), while in Germany the US advances past the Germans in the World Cup. It's a very real possibility.
I have now topped 100 "friends" on MySpace. Thank you for your support; I don't quite know how to feel about it. That saud, new (or previously unheard, at least) music soon, I promise.
Yesterday I was listening to Wayne Shorter's most recent "Beyond the Sound Barrier" for the first time in a while. It's a mind-blowing record, even on the twentieth listen. It made me think, what exactly makes a song (or "song form) a song. For instance, "Joy Ryder" is stretched so far from the original recording twenty-some years ago as to be a different piece alltogether. I remember an interview with Miles in the '80s where he talked about a set list as a menu, a suggested starting place that you shouldn't take too literally. I never completely bought it with that Miles band, because so much was so preset (it seems more true in the second great quintet), but Wayne's band, and also bandmate Danielo Perez's current trio, seem to be taking that idea to it's further points.
World Cup fever has taken over the better part of Cruise Ship X. (And unlike last time, you don't have to stay up until 4am to watch them) And I admit to being sucked in a bit- I'm in an office pool and everything. I'm clueless as to just about anything- I think Brazil is going to win because, well, everyone seems to think Brazil is going to win.
Happening alongside it stateside is, of course the NBA Finals. Wouldn't it be something if the best player in the NBA finals in the US is a German (Nowitzki, doing his best Larry Bird impression lately), while in Germany the US advances past the Germans in the World Cup. It's a very real possibility.
I have now topped 100 "friends" on MySpace. Thank you for your support; I don't quite know how to feel about it. That saud, new (or previously unheard, at least) music soon, I promise.
Yesterday I was listening to Wayne Shorter's most recent "Beyond the Sound Barrier" for the first time in a while. It's a mind-blowing record, even on the twentieth listen. It made me think, what exactly makes a song (or "song form) a song. For instance, "Joy Ryder" is stretched so far from the original recording twenty-some years ago as to be a different piece alltogether. I remember an interview with Miles in the '80s where he talked about a set list as a menu, a suggested starting place that you shouldn't take too literally. I never completely bought it with that Miles band, because so much was so preset (it seems more true in the second great quintet), but Wayne's band, and also bandmate Danielo Perez's current trio, seem to be taking that idea to it's further points.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Early returns
This is the kind of week when it kills me to be so far from home. I already missed the Bang on a Can, now missing both big NYC festivals (including the Hancock/Shorter superband) and Guillermo Klein at the Vanguard. Aaargh. I plead ignorance on Senor Klein, and still have grave reservations about that 90's Smalls scene, but the buzz is substantial, and he can write. (TBP have a long interview with Klien that's fun)
Anyhow, I do, have my IPod, and have started absorbing the previously mentioned Virgin haul. The early returns:
Keystone- My favorite Dave Douglas CD in quite some time, possibly since Charms of the Night Sky. This is the first record where I've heard a DJ (here DJ Olive) integrate wholly into a "jazz" combo. (Having Jamie Saft turning every imaginable sound out of a Wurly helps. And no, I don't know Dave's Mahler stuff, it's on the neverending list.) It is disconcerting, however, to have these very modern, electric soundscapes accompanying a rather primative (technologically, not artistically) black and white film. That took a minute to get used to, but once I did, it was a lot of fun.
D'Angelo Live- It's a shame this is so expensive as an import, because it's great. The band is soooo tight. I'm usually not knocked out by backing vocals, but it's Angie Stone leading the parade, and that makes a huge difference. I remember seeing the Voodoo tour live, and this earlier show, possibly because it's less of a spectacle, even sonically, is more satisfying.
Thunderbird- I wanted to like it, I really did. I'm a big Cassandra Wilson fan. But I think one of the great strengths of her singing is how elastic it is, and here that clashes with the almost inherant stiffness of sequenced beats. I haven't given up on it, but so far it's kind of an uncomfortable listen for me.
Mulligan Quartet Live- lots of fun. Nothing earth shattering, but a lot of fun...
Anyhow, I do, have my IPod, and have started absorbing the previously mentioned Virgin haul. The early returns:
Keystone- My favorite Dave Douglas CD in quite some time, possibly since Charms of the Night Sky. This is the first record where I've heard a DJ (here DJ Olive) integrate wholly into a "jazz" combo. (Having Jamie Saft turning every imaginable sound out of a Wurly helps. And no, I don't know Dave's Mahler stuff, it's on the neverending list.) It is disconcerting, however, to have these very modern, electric soundscapes accompanying a rather primative (technologically, not artistically) black and white film. That took a minute to get used to, but once I did, it was a lot of fun.
D'Angelo Live- It's a shame this is so expensive as an import, because it's great. The band is soooo tight. I'm usually not knocked out by backing vocals, but it's Angie Stone leading the parade, and that makes a huge difference. I remember seeing the Voodoo tour live, and this earlier show, possibly because it's less of a spectacle, even sonically, is more satisfying.
Thunderbird- I wanted to like it, I really did. I'm a big Cassandra Wilson fan. But I think one of the great strengths of her singing is how elastic it is, and here that clashes with the almost inherant stiffness of sequenced beats. I haven't given up on it, but so far it's kind of an uncomfortable listen for me.
Mulligan Quartet Live- lots of fun. Nothing earth shattering, but a lot of fun...
now, the weather
Just in case we needed a reminder that hurricane season started last week, it rained most of the weekend. Really, really raining- big loud thunderstorms, first in the Bahamas Saturday, then more Sunday at sea. On a cruise ship, where one of the attractions for the customer is that we can, and usually do, steer around bad weather, believe me, it’s a very pleasant change of pace to have rain.
One of the things that I like most about life out here is the stark beauty of the weather, well, when we have any. On the ocean you can see the rain pouring down from the storm clouds, like a sheet connecting the heavens and the seas. On one side of the ship the sea will be its usual blue-green, on the other a swirling grey. It’s an obvious reminder of how big and powerful the ocean is, and how much respect it deserves, even on the very sheltered run we do.
There’s also the heat lightning, an uncomplicated but breathtaking phenomenon I don’t quite understand but see often. As the weather gets warmer, at night even if there’s no hint of rain we’ll get these amazing shows off the bow of the ship, peel after peel of lightning sizzling through an otherwise black sky.
Finally, Monday on the way to Key West we were visited by a school of dolphins, playing off the bow of the ship. It’s only the second time I’ve seen any in my time out here, but hopefully we will see more as the warmer water temperatures take hold. I know that dolphins have been romanticized in the American imagination to an almost silly point, but they are such beautiful, smart, playful creatures, especially in person, that it’s hard not to. After a very short time they realized that they were the show, so they started hamming for the audience- bouncing in and out of the water, playing chicken with the bow of the ship, the adults taking the lead while about a hundred yards away the young ones poked their much darker fins up now and again.
It's easy to get dark out here, and I certainly know why, but it has it's moments...
One of the things that I like most about life out here is the stark beauty of the weather, well, when we have any. On the ocean you can see the rain pouring down from the storm clouds, like a sheet connecting the heavens and the seas. On one side of the ship the sea will be its usual blue-green, on the other a swirling grey. It’s an obvious reminder of how big and powerful the ocean is, and how much respect it deserves, even on the very sheltered run we do.
There’s also the heat lightning, an uncomplicated but breathtaking phenomenon I don’t quite understand but see often. As the weather gets warmer, at night even if there’s no hint of rain we’ll get these amazing shows off the bow of the ship, peel after peel of lightning sizzling through an otherwise black sky.
Finally, Monday on the way to Key West we were visited by a school of dolphins, playing off the bow of the ship. It’s only the second time I’ve seen any in my time out here, but hopefully we will see more as the warmer water temperatures take hold. I know that dolphins have been romanticized in the American imagination to an almost silly point, but they are such beautiful, smart, playful creatures, especially in person, that it’s hard not to. After a very short time they realized that they were the show, so they started hamming for the audience- bouncing in and out of the water, playing chicken with the bow of the ship, the adults taking the lead while about a hundred yards away the young ones poked their much darker fins up now and again.
It's easy to get dark out here, and I certainly know why, but it has it's moments...
Monday, June 05, 2006
Steve Lacy
Today marks the second anniversary of the death of Steve Lacy, pioneer of the soprano saxophone, composer and teacher. As time passes, days like this become less overtly significant, but for me no more pleasant. Since his death Steve's music certainly continues- I've been to half a dozen gigs in the past year where Steve's music was featured without making a big deal of it, notably by Jeremy Udden and Monikah (for my money the best interpreter of Steve's songs who wasn't married to him). Dave Douglas likewise has incorporated some of Steve's work into his bands' book, and his "Blues for Lacy" on the new Meaning and Mystery is the best tune on the record. Hopefully, Steve's music one day will occupy a similar place in the "canon" (uggh, that word) that Monk's does.
One of the main attractions of attending New England Conservatory (well, one that wasn't named Brookmeyer) was the chance to study with Steve. I was not exactly a huge fan, but I knew that when it came to the soprano, he was THE guy. (From no less than Wayne Shorter- "Anyone who plays soprano orientates himself on Steve Lacy".) Ditto for the art of solo saxophone playing, along perhaps with Braxton and Evan Parker. The difference with Steve's solo playing was, Steve never abandoned song form, making records of solo performance of Monk or his own music rather than of improvisations.
Steve was a very particular guy. He did things a certain way, played a certain way, and wanted music the way he wanted it. Unlike a lot of particular people, however, he wasn't the least bit imposing or egotistical about it. If he didn't like something, he'd just shake his head and say "no, man, that part just isn't it! Doesn't go where it needs to go." (I remember his specifically saying that about the bridge to "The Nearness of You." Like the tune, just not the bridge) And that by itself was enough to make you want to fix it. In talking with Ryshpan, he said something similar. He was watching Steve rehearse a student group paying free improvised music. Every time Steve played, the music was very focused. When he stopped, it fell into chaos. Steve didn't have a center of musical gravity, he WAS the center of gravity.
Studying with Steve was a great joy, though it wasn't exactly studying in the traditional sense. After the first lesson, where he went over some very simple ways he "tamed" the soprano (which, coincidentally, still form the first chunk of any practice session for me), he said, "well, what do you want to do?" And that's how every lesson went. It wasn't that Steve was shy or selfish, he wanted you to fish out of him what you needed. So, I learned to come with a laundry list of questions, or tunes, and we'd go from there. Vivid memories- he said Monk had taken off the top of his piano, and put mirrors on the ceiling of his practice space, so he could look up and see what was happening as he played. He talked about playing a gig with Roscoe Mitchell where they played while walking around some kind of maze, doing certain things at certain locations. I still have tapes of some of the lessons, and I have to go back through them.
Steve died well before it was time. When I worked with him he was very active and only becoming more so, using NEC as a springboard for a lot of new work, and overdue recognition of some of his old work. His diagnosis of cancer the summer after I studied with him was a shock to everyone, and in the months before his death he'd seemed to have made a remarkable recovery, and was playing and writing as much and as strong as ever, which made his rapid decline and death that much more painful. Irene Aebi, his wife (and THE interpreter of his songs) says that he's still here, his music is still vital and his spirit is still strong. And I know what she means. But I for one, wish he were here, and miss him, especially today. There's so much more to say, but for now, onward, Steve.
One of the main attractions of attending New England Conservatory (well, one that wasn't named Brookmeyer) was the chance to study with Steve. I was not exactly a huge fan, but I knew that when it came to the soprano, he was THE guy. (From no less than Wayne Shorter- "Anyone who plays soprano orientates himself on Steve Lacy".) Ditto for the art of solo saxophone playing, along perhaps with Braxton and Evan Parker. The difference with Steve's solo playing was, Steve never abandoned song form, making records of solo performance of Monk or his own music rather than of improvisations.
Steve was a very particular guy. He did things a certain way, played a certain way, and wanted music the way he wanted it. Unlike a lot of particular people, however, he wasn't the least bit imposing or egotistical about it. If he didn't like something, he'd just shake his head and say "no, man, that part just isn't it! Doesn't go where it needs to go." (I remember his specifically saying that about the bridge to "The Nearness of You." Like the tune, just not the bridge) And that by itself was enough to make you want to fix it. In talking with Ryshpan, he said something similar. He was watching Steve rehearse a student group paying free improvised music. Every time Steve played, the music was very focused. When he stopped, it fell into chaos. Steve didn't have a center of musical gravity, he WAS the center of gravity.
Studying with Steve was a great joy, though it wasn't exactly studying in the traditional sense. After the first lesson, where he went over some very simple ways he "tamed" the soprano (which, coincidentally, still form the first chunk of any practice session for me), he said, "well, what do you want to do?" And that's how every lesson went. It wasn't that Steve was shy or selfish, he wanted you to fish out of him what you needed. So, I learned to come with a laundry list of questions, or tunes, and we'd go from there. Vivid memories- he said Monk had taken off the top of his piano, and put mirrors on the ceiling of his practice space, so he could look up and see what was happening as he played. He talked about playing a gig with Roscoe Mitchell where they played while walking around some kind of maze, doing certain things at certain locations. I still have tapes of some of the lessons, and I have to go back through them.
Steve died well before it was time. When I worked with him he was very active and only becoming more so, using NEC as a springboard for a lot of new work, and overdue recognition of some of his old work. His diagnosis of cancer the summer after I studied with him was a shock to everyone, and in the months before his death he'd seemed to have made a remarkable recovery, and was playing and writing as much and as strong as ever, which made his rapid decline and death that much more painful. Irene Aebi, his wife (and THE interpreter of his songs) says that he's still here, his music is still vital and his spirit is still strong. And I know what she means. But I for one, wish he were here, and miss him, especially today. There's so much more to say, but for now, onward, Steve.
Friday, June 02, 2006
Spirited
I vividly remember my second lesson with Bob Brookmeyer. (The first one was the day after 9/11, so that one is a little hazy.) Bob’s first assignment for most of his students is to write two or three (large, as in 11x17) pages of melodies, using only one octave of the C Major scale. I knew a lot of Bob’s big band music pretty well at this point, and has played with Bob at various school and festival projects, so this took me a little by surprise. The guy who wrote “Hello and Goodbye” and “King Porter ‘94”, which I thought were two of the most progressive, modern charts ever, wants me to drone on forever in C Major? But, he was the teacher, and it sounded pretty simple, right?
I came in two weeks later with almost a page that I thought was decent. (Try it, it’s not quite so simple.) He proceeded to tear it to shreds for almost an hour. The gist of his complaint was that I didn’t develop anything nearly enough. One time, for a couple of my students, I wrote two versions of first twenty bars or so of what I wrote for him, the first mine, the second with his revisions. (will post soon) As he said recently to the NY Times:
"In the 80's," he continued, "I began to wonder how long I could extend my musical thought and still not break the relationship with the listener, not put the listener to sleep. When I became a teacher, I realized that everybody writes too short. You've got to finish your thought."
And, as usual in my case, he was right. It sounded much better his way.
(For more of Bob’s wisdom on the subject, he now has for sale online composition lessons as part of the composer’s membership on his website. I’m sure he goes further into detail there.)
Or, for what it can sound like, you can hear Spirit Music, his latest album with his New Art Orchestra, and his first having followed Maria Schneider to the very exciting ArtistShare project. In many ways, this record crystallizes the ideas he’s been teaching for the last several years into one discernable, and for the most part excellent product.
In my time studying with him (in addition to kicking my ass on the craft of writing for a large ensemble, something it turned out I badly needed), I remember two ideas shining through vividly. The first is you can almost never overdevelop an idea. His writing over the past ten years has often been an exercise in how far he can take a single idea (usually one of those diatonic C Major cells) and repeat, stretch, twist, and bend it without boring the listener. And he’s become the master at it. On track 2, “New Love”, he opens with a cute (too cute, if you ask me), seven note idea, and bounces it across the band, until an English horn takes it for a while. I was just about ready to give up on the tune as way too cute, when the tenor player turns it inside out into a gorgeous ballad melody. All the cuteness of the intro melts away, and he sings through the next two minutes, until that same idea I was ready toss away is both still present and unrecognizable. His, and the listener’s patience is usually rewarded.
The other reason this works is less obvious; Bob is such a master craftsman, another point I didn’t immediately appreciate in his music. While I was studying with him, he had to miss a school concert, so Matt Tutor and I each conducted one of his tunes in his stead. Poring over the scores to prepare, and hearing the band send everything at you (literally) gives you a great appreciation for how well he does all the little things. Nothing is haphazard, and he often finds ingenious solutions for typical problems in a voicing, or by holding back for a beat, or, or… The mastery of the craft is one of the things that allows him to play with the bigger ideas he loves.
The second big talking point Bob drives home here is integrating any improvisation into the fabric of the composition, rather than allowing it to be its own entity. Again, from the Times:
"My first rule became: The first solo only happens when absolutely nothing else can happen," he explained. "You don't write in a solo until you've completely exhausted what you have to say. If you give a soloist an open solo for 30 seconds, he plays like he's coming from the piece that you wrote. Then he says, 'What the hell was that piece that I was playing from?' And the next 30 seconds is, 'Oh, I guess I'll play what I learned last night.' And bang! Minute 2 is whoever he likes, which is probably Coltrane."
Darcy commented at length about this one in parsing this interview, and I agree completely. Here, though, Bob really , really doesn’t seem to trust his soloists- for the most part, he keeps them on a tremendously short leash, either by providing lots of written material to buttress any improvisation (“Alone”, “Happy Song”), or by making the solos very short and contained (“The Door”). On one level I understand why he does it- he’s probably heard one (or ten) too many radio and college band players eviscerate “Ding Dong Ding” or “Skylark”, and wants to avoid that. But the flip side is that either because of the players themselves or the restraints on them, the improvisation is not at nearly same level as the compositions or the fantastic, hard swinging ensemble playing. It tends towards the stiff and leans heavily on bebop formula. (which ironically Bob rails against if you play with him) At the end of “The Door” in particular, I wanted the alto solo, set up so beautifully, to break the shell and really push it to another intensity level, and it never does.
(There are a couple of notable exceptions- drummer John Hollenbeck, who has internalized Bob’s sizable demands on a drummer without losing the intelligent recklessness that characterizes his own work, is typically brilliant. The clarinet solo on “Silver Linings”, the one song form on the record, is fun, and I’m not generally a big fan of clarinet solos. And of course there’s Bob himself, appearing on only two tunes, as brilliant as ever.)
Despite that caveat, the disc is great, a mature statement from an artist whose wisdom most of us will be aspiring to for a long time yet. As with the mature work of so many great artists, it gets better with multiple listenings. It continues to grow on me, and I continue to discover more each time I hear it. It reminds me in some ways of the late Beethoven string quartets, or late Picasso, at once distilled to an essence and teeming with life in all the little crevices. In some ways, especially harmonically, it’s much more conservative than earlier works. He has almost codified a tonal and rhythmic language that suits him, and keeps going further and further inside it, and pulling more and more out of seemingly less and less.
The last track is a ballad he calls “The End”, complete with a tender brass fanfare near its close. The end? God let’s hope not.
I came in two weeks later with almost a page that I thought was decent. (Try it, it’s not quite so simple.) He proceeded to tear it to shreds for almost an hour. The gist of his complaint was that I didn’t develop anything nearly enough. One time, for a couple of my students, I wrote two versions of first twenty bars or so of what I wrote for him, the first mine, the second with his revisions. (will post soon) As he said recently to the NY Times:
"In the 80's," he continued, "I began to wonder how long I could extend my musical thought and still not break the relationship with the listener, not put the listener to sleep. When I became a teacher, I realized that everybody writes too short. You've got to finish your thought."
And, as usual in my case, he was right. It sounded much better his way.
(For more of Bob’s wisdom on the subject, he now has for sale online composition lessons as part of the composer’s membership on his website. I’m sure he goes further into detail there.)
Or, for what it can sound like, you can hear Spirit Music, his latest album with his New Art Orchestra, and his first having followed Maria Schneider to the very exciting ArtistShare project. In many ways, this record crystallizes the ideas he’s been teaching for the last several years into one discernable, and for the most part excellent product.
In my time studying with him (in addition to kicking my ass on the craft of writing for a large ensemble, something it turned out I badly needed), I remember two ideas shining through vividly. The first is you can almost never overdevelop an idea. His writing over the past ten years has often been an exercise in how far he can take a single idea (usually one of those diatonic C Major cells) and repeat, stretch, twist, and bend it without boring the listener. And he’s become the master at it. On track 2, “New Love”, he opens with a cute (too cute, if you ask me), seven note idea, and bounces it across the band, until an English horn takes it for a while. I was just about ready to give up on the tune as way too cute, when the tenor player turns it inside out into a gorgeous ballad melody. All the cuteness of the intro melts away, and he sings through the next two minutes, until that same idea I was ready toss away is both still present and unrecognizable. His, and the listener’s patience is usually rewarded.
The other reason this works is less obvious; Bob is such a master craftsman, another point I didn’t immediately appreciate in his music. While I was studying with him, he had to miss a school concert, so Matt Tutor and I each conducted one of his tunes in his stead. Poring over the scores to prepare, and hearing the band send everything at you (literally) gives you a great appreciation for how well he does all the little things. Nothing is haphazard, and he often finds ingenious solutions for typical problems in a voicing, or by holding back for a beat, or, or… The mastery of the craft is one of the things that allows him to play with the bigger ideas he loves.
The second big talking point Bob drives home here is integrating any improvisation into the fabric of the composition, rather than allowing it to be its own entity. Again, from the Times:
"My first rule became: The first solo only happens when absolutely nothing else can happen," he explained. "You don't write in a solo until you've completely exhausted what you have to say. If you give a soloist an open solo for 30 seconds, he plays like he's coming from the piece that you wrote. Then he says, 'What the hell was that piece that I was playing from?' And the next 30 seconds is, 'Oh, I guess I'll play what I learned last night.' And bang! Minute 2 is whoever he likes, which is probably Coltrane."
Darcy commented at length about this one in parsing this interview, and I agree completely. Here, though, Bob really , really doesn’t seem to trust his soloists- for the most part, he keeps them on a tremendously short leash, either by providing lots of written material to buttress any improvisation (“Alone”, “Happy Song”), or by making the solos very short and contained (“The Door”). On one level I understand why he does it- he’s probably heard one (or ten) too many radio and college band players eviscerate “Ding Dong Ding” or “Skylark”, and wants to avoid that. But the flip side is that either because of the players themselves or the restraints on them, the improvisation is not at nearly same level as the compositions or the fantastic, hard swinging ensemble playing. It tends towards the stiff and leans heavily on bebop formula. (which ironically Bob rails against if you play with him) At the end of “The Door” in particular, I wanted the alto solo, set up so beautifully, to break the shell and really push it to another intensity level, and it never does.
(There are a couple of notable exceptions- drummer John Hollenbeck, who has internalized Bob’s sizable demands on a drummer without losing the intelligent recklessness that characterizes his own work, is typically brilliant. The clarinet solo on “Silver Linings”, the one song form on the record, is fun, and I’m not generally a big fan of clarinet solos. And of course there’s Bob himself, appearing on only two tunes, as brilliant as ever.)
Despite that caveat, the disc is great, a mature statement from an artist whose wisdom most of us will be aspiring to for a long time yet. As with the mature work of so many great artists, it gets better with multiple listenings. It continues to grow on me, and I continue to discover more each time I hear it. It reminds me in some ways of the late Beethoven string quartets, or late Picasso, at once distilled to an essence and teeming with life in all the little crevices. In some ways, especially harmonically, it’s much more conservative than earlier works. He has almost codified a tonal and rhythmic language that suits him, and keeps going further and further inside it, and pulling more and more out of seemingly less and less.
The last track is a ballad he calls “The End”, complete with a tender brass fanfare near its close. The end? God let’s hope not.
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