I’m pleased to announce that “The Giant Steps Scratch Pad, C Edition” is now published and available for purchase on Lulu.com. If you play the flute, piano, guitar, or any other concert pitch instrument and want a practice companion to help you master Coltrane changes, then this collection of 155 licks and patterns is for you!

Besides the new C edition, “The Giant Steps Scratch Pad” is also available in Bb and Eb editions. A bass clef edition is next in line. I’m not sure what kind of editing it will require, since the shift is to a different clef rather than a different key. I’m hoping that the process will be a simple one and I’ll be able to release the bass clef edition soon.

If you want to learn more details on what the book has to offer, read the initial release notice for the Eb edition. The description applies to all the editions, which are identical except for the keys in which the musical material is written.

At the risk of sounding immodest, I’m not aware of any other resource, either in print or online, that offers such extensive practice material for the Giant Steps cycle. You can find plenty of information on the theory of Coltrane changes, but it has been a different story when it comes to a hands-on, made-to-be-played book that jazz musicians can take with them to the woodshed. “The Giant Steps Scratch Pad” fills that gap. If you want to solo confidently and creatively over the challenging, lopsided changes of “Giant Steps,” then pick the edition that’s right for you and order your copy today!

After rereading one of my older posts on how to ghost a note on the saxophone, I’m reminded that even simple sax techniques–or tricks, if you wish–seem like a mystery at some point in a saxophonist’s learning curve. So it is with the growl. It’s easy once you know how to do it, but until then, you listen to players who use the growl–Phil Woods does so to great effect–and wonder how the heck they do that.

Let me enlighten you. The technique is so easy to acquire that if you’ve got your horn in your hand, you can be growling in fifteen seconds and have a pretty good feel for the growl in a few minutes. What’s the secret? Sing or hum into your instrument while you’re playing it. Pick a tone lower than the range you’re playing in.

That’s it.

I repeat: Just sing or hum into your instrument while you’re playing it. The extra source of sound creates conflicting overtones that jostle with each other to create a growling effect. (That’s my simple, non-technical explanation.)

You can experiment with humming certain pitches relative to the notes you’re playing–an octave below, a fifth below, and so forth. I don’t worry about such stuff myself, and maybe I should pay more attention to it. But I’ve never had any problems getting the essential effect.

Note that growling is not the same thing as flutter tonguing. The two techniques may sound somewhat similar, but I think that most ears can easily tell them apart. They’re very different approaches that produce different effects.

If you enjoyed this article, check out the many other helpful articles, exercises, and solo transcriptions on my jazz page.

Tenor sax, soprano sax, trumpet, and clarinet players, I’ve kept my promise and haven’t forgotten you! I’m pleased to announce that The Giant Steps Scratch Pad, Bb Edition is now published and available for purchase on Lulu.com.

In case you haven’t followed any of my related posts, “The Giant Steps Scratch Pad” is a book of licks and patterns on the Giant Steps cycle. Made for the woodshed, it had its inception over ten years ago during a period in my life when I was immersing myself in Coltrane changes. Finding nothing in the way of practice material, I bought a spiral-bound book of staff paper and began writing down my own ideas, which multiplied over time into more material than I could wrap my arms around.

In recent months, it occurred to me that the material could benefit other jazz musicians. So I transcribed it using MuseScore, and after more hassles and delays than I care to describe, finally published the Eb edition for alto sax and baritone sax players just two weeks ago. Read the release notice for more information on what the book has to offer jazz instrumentalists of every stripe who want a practice companion to help them develop their technique for improvising on “Giant Steps.” In a nutshell, information abounds on the theory of Coltrane changes, but this is the first book I know of that actually gets you soloing on “Giant Steps.”

Flutists and other concert pitch instrumentalists, fear not: The C edition is next in line, and I’m already underway with editing. Bass players and trombonists, a bass clef edition will follow after the C edition has been published. So, campers, be patient. Nobody’s going to be excluded from the party.

“The Giant Steps Scratch Pad” is now priced at $12.95. I had initially settled on $13.95, but when I factored in the cost of shipping from Lulu, I decided to trim down by a buck. Head to the Scratch Pad landing page to access both the Eb and Bb editions, and other editions as they become available.

I’m hoping to have the C edition published within a week, so look for another announcement soon.

You read right: “The Giant Steps Scratch Pad” has finally hit the streets!

I hadn’t wanted to give further updates until now because it seemed that I kept running into snags and delays. That kind of news gets embarrassing to write about after a while, and no doubt it’s tiresome to read. But all the hurdles have finally been crossed, and I am extremely pleased to announce that my book of 155 licks and patterns on Giant Steps changes is at long-last published and available for purchase at Lulu.com.

Let me quickly follow with this caveat: The Eb edition is the one that is presently available. However, with that trail finally blazed, Bb, C, and bass clef editions are all in the works and will be following shortly. I finished editing the Bb edition earlier today, and I hope to complete the job tomorrow, so look for it in a day or two, or at least sometime this week. After that will come the C and bass clef editions.

If you’ve ever wanted to build the technique to blaze your way through the changes to John Coltrane’s jazz landmark, “Giant Steps,” this is the book to help you do it. It’s truly a one-of-a-kind. Here’s the cover copy for it:

Build Your Technique and Creativity for the Giant Steps Cycle

Looking for a practice book to help you master “Giant Steps”? This is it! The Giant Steps Scratch Pad will help you develop the chops you need.

Plenty has been written about the theory behind Coltrane changes. This is the first book designed to help you actually improvise on John Coltrane’s benchmark tune. In it, you’ll find

• * A brief overview of “Giant Steps” theory
• * Insights and tips for using this book as a practice companion
• * 155 licks and patterns divided into two parts to help you cultivate facility in both the A and B sections of “Giant Steps”

“Giant Steps” isn’t innately hard. It’s just different and unpracticed. This book gives you a wealth of material to help you take Coltrane’s lopsided chord changes and make music with them. Choose the edition that fits your instrument—Bb, C, Eb, or bass clef—and then get started today.

“Ever since John Coltrane recorded ‘Giant Steps,’ its chord progression has been a rite of passage for aspiring improvisers. Bob’s book The Giant Steps Scratch Pad presents a practical approach to Coltrane changes that will challenge advanced players and provide fundamental material for those just beginning to tackle the challenge of Giant Steps.’” –Ric Troll, composer, multi-instrumentalist, owner of Tallmadge Mill Studios

“In this volume, Bob has created an excellent new tool for learning how to navigate the slippery harmonies of ‘Giant Steps.’ This is a hands-on, practical approach with a wealth of great material that will be of assistance to students of jazz at all levels of development.” –Kurt Ellenberger, composer, pianist, jazz educator and author of Materials and Concepts in Jazz Improvisation

I’ll of course be putting up an advertisement for the book on this site. But no need to wait for that. If you’re an alto sax or baritone sax player, you can purchase the Eb edition right now! Trumpeters, tenor saxophonists, soprano saxophonists, and clarinet players (did I miss anyone?), the party is coming your way next, so keep your eyes open for the next announcement.

It seems strange to me that something like this book hasn’t been done before, but as far as I know, The Giant Steps Scratch Pad truly is unique. It has been a lot more work than I ever anticipated, but I’m really proud of the results. Major thanks to my friend Brian Fowler of DesignTeam for creating such a totally killer cover. But there’s more to this book than good looks alone. I trust that those of you who purchase it will find that its contents live up to its appearance. If you’re ready to tackle Coltrane changes, this book will give you plenty to keep you occupied for a long time to come.

Here are a couple of patterns I like to practice from time to time to limber up my ability to interpolate chromatic lines with common tones. The third exercise is one that I just thought of, and since I’ll be incorporating it into my saxophone practice sessions from now on, I thought I’d drop it into your lap as well. Click on the image to enlarge it.

The repeat signs don’t mean repeat just once; they mean repeat ad infinitum until the pattern is laying easily under your fingers. Then bump it up or down a half step and practice it in the new key. Repeat this process until you own the pattern in all twelve keys throughout the full range of your instrument.

While each pattern begins by outlining an A minor triad, it implies other harmonies as the chromatic line descends or ascends while the remaining tones remain static. I’ll leave it to you to figure out different practical applications.

You’ll find plenty more patterns, exercises, solo transcriptions, and articles of interest to jazz musicians on my jazz page.

Last November I posted an article on double tonguing on the saxophone, a technique I was just beginning to incorporate as a regular part of my practice sessions. Eight months have elapsed since then. I’d like to say that I’ve mastered double tonguing, but I’d be lying. I have, however, kept at it, and the gains, if slow, have nevertheless been significant.

This is a HARD technique to master! At least, it has been difficult for me. Maybe it has come easily to other saxophonists, but not to this one. By comparison, when I took up circular breathing years ago, I was quite comfortable with it within a few months. But double tonguing…well, the best thing I can do is to keep on keeping on with it, and to strive to apply it increasingly in my playing.

I have in fact gotten to the point where I’ve finally begun to use double tonguing when I’m playing out. It’s not a steady feature of my sax solos, just something that I experiment with.

But it’s in my practice sessions that I’ve been pushing myself, working on scales and licks using double tonguing. Does it sound polished? No. But it’s coming together, and at times it even sounds reasonably convincing.

As is true of any other musical challenge, repetition and perseverance are undoubtedly the key to mastering this technique. It’s a discipline, trying to get my tonguing to not only coincide with my fingerings, but also to make the results sound halfway musical rather than clunky. I seem to be able to handle about ten minutes of double tongue work, after which I move on. My patience is probably integrally tied to my tongue and embouchure’s endurance, and my philosophy is, work it and then leave it be.

At the time of this post, I’m capable of executing sixteenth notes at a tempo of around 135-140 mm. Not gracefully, to be sure, and not on the turn of a dime. I have to work into it. But that’s better than where I started.

Why am I even writing about this? Well, I’m not aware of anyone else who has actually chronicled their efforts to master this technique. If you’re working on it and it’s coming easily for you, then bully for you! But if you’re one who, like me, is finding double tonguing to be a real challenge to bring to a point of usefulness, then you might find it reassuring to know that you’re not the only one.  You might also take courage in hearing that improvements, while slow, do come.

Amid the fast flow of notes that so often characterizes a jazz solo, it’s good to add a little punctuation. Your listeners need it and so do you–a pause here, an accent there, something to break things up for the sake of creative interest. I probably should devote an entire article to the concept of space. In this post, however, I want to talk for a second about a more subtle form of musical punctuation: repeat notes.

I don’t know whether I’m using an actual technical term, but “repeat notes” is the handle I’m hanging on the concept I’m about to describe. It’s as simple a technique as you can imagine: you simply repeat a note in the midst of your flow of ideas. You may repeat it just once. You may repeat it several times for dramatic effect. You may choose to ghost the note or use an alternate fingering for effect. The point is, you’re momentarily bringing the jumble of tones to rest on a single pitch, and you’re working that pitch, spotlighting it, whether for a microsecond or for several bars.

Like many musical concepts, this one is easier to illustrate than to explain. So click on the image and take a look at the exercise I’ve included. It’ll give you a start on repeat notes. From there, the possibilities are limited only by your imagination.

By the way, the note heads with X’s are ghost notes. For whatever reason–probably because we’re talking about punctuating solos–it seemed appropriate to include a few of them in this exercise along with the repeat notes.

You are reading what will likely prove to be the shortest post I’ve ever written on this blog. There’s no need for me to write a lot. I’m just going to redirect you to Neal Battaglia’s Sax Station website, where I came across a terrific YouTube video by Kirk Whalum. If you’re looking for some new practice ideas with which to challenge yourself and improve your saxophone technique, you have got to check this out!

The headline for this post is a bit deceptive. I’m really not interested in offering one more definition of jazz, or of discussing elements such as swing, syncopation, improvisation, blue notes, and so on. All of that has been abundantly covered in a bazillion books on jazz history, jazz theory, and jazz musicians.

A better title, though a more confusing one at first glance, might be, “What ISN’T Jazz?” It’s a question I’ve contemplated off and on. In that respect, I guess I’m no different from a multitude of other jazz musicians who have pondered the same issue over the years and ventured their opinions. Often you don’t hear the question expressed as a question, but as a conviction delivered with some heat: “That isn’t jazz!”

Let me say up front that I consider the topic of what is and isn’t jazz to be pretty academic. I’m more fascinated by the fact that some people get so passionate about defending a sacred ideal, some essence of jazzness, than I am by the subject itself.

Yet I have to confess that I find the same attitude rearing up in me on occasion–times when it bothers me to hear the word “jazz” used to describe something I wouldn’t consider to be even close to jazz. Improvised music, quite possibly; jazz, no.

So what am I, an elitist? If I am, I’m certainly not hardcore about it. Frankly, the intensity and hair-splitting that I’ve witnessed over the jazz/not-jazz issue has struck me as ridiculous, not to mention pointless, since it’s one of those debates that will never be settled.

That being said, I think the word “jazz” does get used too freely at times.

Case in point: I’ve played in lots of church worship teams over the years. Most of them have involved a lot of white folks playing guitars. Nothing wrong with that, but I cringe whenever I hear someone say, “Let’s jazz it up.” It’s kind of like hearing a mariachi accordionist say, “Let’s rock and roll!” What does it mean to “jazz it up”? I’m not sure, but I can testify that the results I’ve witnessed have never resembled jazz. Musicians who rarely if ever listen to jazz, let alone practice it, aren’t going to just suddenly produce it like Bullwinkle pulling a rabbit out of the hat.

So here I am, caught between two extremes. On the one hand, I can be a jazz racist, aggressively and vehemently defending the purity of the form (according to my ideal of it) and getting my undies all in a bunch over musical miscegenation. On the other hand, I can adopt so inclusive a perspective that the word “jazz” can mean just about anything under the sun, and consequently mean nothing at all.

It seems like there ought to be a less polarized option. Maybe there is. If so, finding it is probably best begun by defusing some of the negativity inherent to this topic. Coming from a jazz purist, the words, “That’s not jazz!” come across as an indictment. Upon hearing Weather Report in concert, Ben Webster is reported to have flown into one of his famous rages, walked onstage, and overturned Joe Zawinul’s electric piano. Such behavior is an extreme, but it captures the attitude of those who are so entrenched in an ideal that they judge and attack whatever doesn’t match up.

It doesn’t have to be that way. It shouldn’t be that way. How can any two people have a decent, productive discussion with that kind of Hatfield-McCoy mentality?

So let me be plain: When I say that something isn’t jazz, I’m not saying it’s bad music. Neither am I saying it’s good music. I’m not making value judgments at all. I’m just saying that I don’t consider the music I’m hearing to fit under the jazz umbrella. That’s all. Why try to make something be what it isn’t? Why not just let it be what it is and recognize that, if it’s done well, it has its own legitimacy?

Distinguishing between jazz and non-jazz involves at least a certain amount of subjectivity. That’s certainly true of me as I share a few of my own thoughts on the topic. With that acknowledgment, I’d like to address what I think are a few misconceptions about jazz:

* IMPROVISATION. Some people use the word “jazz” to describe extemporaneous playing. But while improvisation is a crucial hallmark of jazz, it’s not an exclusive one. Rock musicians improvise. Bluegrass musicians improvise. Classical musicians improvise. Beethoven wove melodies and harmonies out of thin air long before Louis Armstrong and Sidney Bechet ever played a blue note.

* THE BLUES SCALE. Playing the blues scale is not the same thing as playing jazz. Playing the blues scale is playing the blues scale. The blues scale and blue notes are components of a good jazz vocabulary, but they’re only a part of it, and, as with improvisation, they’re not exclusive to jazz. Rock guitarists use the blues scale extensively.

* HARMONY. The chords associated with jazz are usually quite colorful due to the use of upper tones and creative voicings. Ninths, elevenths, and thirteenths are normative, along with various chord alterations. In jazz, a V7 chord is rarely just a V7 chord; keyboard players and guitarists add upper extensions as a matter of course. While simple triads are used from time to time, jazz is not a triadic idiom. It is vertically complex, giving rise to sophisticated voice leadings.

That’s one big reason why non-jazz musicians who decide they’re going to “jazz up” a piece of music usually wind up sounding hokey rather than hip. Conceptually, they don’t have the harmonic (and rhythmic) know-how to pull it off. If that’s you, don’t let me discourage you from making the attempt. Rather let me encourage you, while you’re in the process, to learn a bit about jazz harmony and voice leading. There’s plenty of knowledge that’s available on the topic both in print and online. This Wikipedia article is a good place to start.

* HORNS. Adding a sax or trumpet to a tune, or even using that tune to showcase a horn player, does not automatically result in jazz.

* TUNES. Jazz is not a matter of the song that’s played but of how it’s interpreted. Playing “In the Mood” or “Take the A Train” doesn’t mean that a band is playing jazz. It means they’re playing melodies and chord changes that were written in the Big Band Era, but stylistically, the way a tune is handled might be closer to a polka than to jazz.

I could easily add to the above list, but what I’ve written is enough to get the idea across. Again, though, the topic of what is and isn’t jazz is prone to subjectivity. It’s safe to say that at some point, a piece of music–or rather, how that piece gets interpreted–crosses a jazz/non-jazz line. But different people, including and especially jazz musicians, will have different ideas about where that line lies.

That’s one reason why I don’t work myself into a lather over whether, for example, the stuff that Kenny G. puts out is jazz. Does it really matter? Kenny’s music may not be my personal cup of tea, but I have a hunch that if you hired the guy for a standards gig, he’d make it through the evening just fine. As it stands, what he does for a living beats delivering pizzas.

As for the debate over what is and isn’t jazz, a more fruitful question to ask is, do you like what you hear? Do you like what you’re playing? Then enjoy it and don’t worry too much about defining it. It may or may not be jazz, but good music is good music no matter what you call it.

In a recent post, I wrote about how reacquainting myself with diatonic fourths was helping me to get inside keys in a different way, breaking me away from the usual tertian harmony and giving me a more open sound in my sax improvisations.

I thought I’d share with you a few of the exercises I’m using. Click on the image to enlarge it. As always, take each pattern up and down the full range of your instrument.

This is my first use of scoring software in a blog post. I’ve only recently familiarized myself with MuseScore and I still have plenty to learn about it. (The latest upgrade has introduced some significant improvements since I first reviewed this great open-source music transcription program a couple months ago.) It took me a little casting about to convert the music file to a format that works in WordPress, and the example here isn’t perfect. Kindly bear with the little green boxes at the ends of the staves and with the vagueness of some of the bar lines. I expect I’ll figure out how to get everything picture-perfect in the future, but for now, I’ve spent enough time dithering about. Now I’m putting the results out on the table, imperfect but serviceable.

If you’ve never worked with fourths before, get ready for a bit of a challenge. Fourths don’t lay under the fingers as easily as thirds. But that’s part of their merit: the fact that they break you away from easy formulae, making you think differently and programming your fingers with a new kind of muscle memory.

Stick with it and have fun!