Contrafact for “Cherokee”

Okay, all you bebop saxophonists and assorted jazz instrumentalists, here’s a little something to have some fun with. Next time you want to work over “Cherokee,” try this instead. It’s a contrafact I wrote over the “Cherokee” changes–quite a few years ago, in fact; it’s copyrighted 2010 only because that’s when I finally got around to charting it with transcription software so it looks nice and pretty. Just click on the image, print it out, and you’re good to go.

It’s a good, strong melody, so I’m accompanying it with this statement:

1) You may use “Liberation Bop” on the gig.

2) You may NOT use “Liberation Bop” for any other commercial purposes, such as but not limited to recordings or written music collections, without my express consent. If you want to use it for commercial purposes, click the tab that says “contact” and shoot me a request.

In other words, keep it honest. And that being said, I hope you’ll enjoy the tune.

PS–I didn’t intend for the watermark to be that freaking big. But I don’t think it’ll interfere, so I’m leaving it as, at least for now.

Moonlight in Vermont: American Songbook Haiku

“Moonlight in Vermont” is one of my favorite ballads to play on the sax. Written by John Blackburn and Karl Suessdorf and published in 1943, it’s a gemstone of the American Songbook with its sensory, impressionistic lyrics and evocative melody. Simple as it is, nevertheless it’s also a tune with a few surprises, notably its cadence to an altered V7/vi chord, which injects color into the otherwise static harmony of the A section; and also its six-bar form, again in the A section.

Having finally given myself credit as a vocalist as well as a saxophonist, I recently learned the lyrics to “Moonlight in Vermont” and have been singing it quite a bit in the shower, driving down the road, and of course when I’m playing a gig. Naturally I got to thinking about that odd six-bar A section. It was the first thing that struck me about the tune when I acquired it years ago as a developing jazz musician seeking a nice ballad to improvise on. Why write a six-bar A section? Not that one can’t, not that one shouldn’t, but why abbreviate the usual, deeply ingrained eight-bar phrase? How strange, yet how effective.

Yesterday the answer finally dawned on me in an inspired flash. I started counting syllables to make sure–five syllables in the first line…seven in the second…and, sure enough, five in the third…why, the song lyrics were written as a haiku!

Now, I realize that this discovery is probably no news flash to some of you, but it was to me. Each of the three stanzas in the A section is a little haiku gem which, married to the limpid melody, flows beautifully and demonstrates just how evocative compactness can be. The  pentatonically derived A section, steadily descending, pausing at the end of each line, reminds me of a stream flowing through the woods, tumbling over little waterfalls and reposing in quiet, reflective pools before commencing the next phase of its journey.

“Moonlight in Vermont” is a song of the seasons, painting the annual progression in three-line daubs of verse. The first tercet gives us “falling leaves, a sycamore”; the second stanza moves us into winter with “snowlight in Vermont”; and the last one brings us a summer evening filled with meadowlark song.

The first half of the tune’s bridge continues with the word pictures while providing a digression into standard, eight-bar phrasing. The second half injects, for a brief moment, a human element into a tune whose romantic images have hitherto mentioned nothing of romance or of people.

Songwriters who contributed to the body of music we call the American Songbook were masters at their craft, and “Moonlight in Vermont” is exquisite proof. For more on the tune, read this commentary in Jazz Standards. A Wikipedia article also does a good job of addressing the haiku aspect of “Moonlight in Vermont,” though it incorrectly attributes two inaccuracies to lyricist Karl Suessdorf. Vermont is in fact well within the range of the eastern meadowlark, and while sycamores may be uncommon in the state, the southern part lies within range of the tree.

And that’s enough about that. I don’t know whether Vermont was moonlit last night, but it’s presently a cloudy Saturday morning here in Michigan and time I got on with my day.

Pentatonic Scales by Major Third

Lately I’ve been spending considerable practice time on pentatonic scales. So named because it has only five notes, the pentatonic is as basic a scale as you can get. Its fundamental use for jazz improvisers is to provide a down-homey sound that’s great for playing the blues and a lot of gospel and contemporary praise music. Lacking a major scale’s handle-with-care tension tones of the fourth and raised seventh, the pentatonic furnishes a steady supply of consonant notes that work with pretty much any diatonic chord. It’s hard to go wrong using a pentatonic scale!

But once you start exploring its more complex applications, the pentatonic scale becomes more demanding. It is used freely as a source for angularity and a tool for outside playing, and you have to work out its possibilities in the woodshed if you want to use them skillfully in performance.

penta-mode-4-by-maj-3rdThe two exercises shown here take the fourth mode of the pentatonic scale and move it by major third. This approach spotlights tone centers that divide the octave into three equal parts. (Click on the image to enlarge it.)

The exercises don’t lay easily under the fingers at first, but stick with them and you’ll soon be ripping through them with Breckerish velocity. Remember, the key is to memorize these patterns as quickly as possible so you don’t need to look at the written notes. Since each exercise takes you through three tonal centers, you’ll need to transpose the material by half-step three times in order to cover all twelve keys.

Get cracking–and have fun!

If you found this post helpful, visit my jazz page for more exercises, articles, and solo transcriptions.

Double-Time Solos: Tips on Playing Fast

Last Saturday’s gig at the Cobblestone was once again a blast. The lineup was different, as Dave DeVos and Paul Lesinski both have previous commitments through February. But  bringing in new players livens things up with fresh approaches, and with Steve Talaga playing keyboard and Charlie Hoats supplying the bass, I had no concerns about the quality of musicianship for the evening. It was my first time playing with Charlie, and he was every bit as superb a player as I’d been told. As for Steve, he’s always been nothing short of fabulous. I am so blessed to get to make music with the kind of guys I’ve been working with lately–not just great musicians, but really decent, down-to-earth people.

But enough about the gig. Let’s talk about playing in double-time.

I don’t know why it has taken me till now to think of writing about this topic. There was a time in my musical development when it consumed me. My introduction to it began when I got my first earful of Bird back in my college days and found myself thinking, “How the heck did he do that?” A lot of people over the years have wondered the same thing about Bird, but I quickly came to realize that he wasn’t the only jazz musician capable of playing really fast and sounding really good. Starting with the boppers, there was Dizzy. There was Dexter. There was Bud Powell. There was Sonny Criss, and Sonny Rollins, and of course Sonny Stitt, who seemed to have built his home in Double-Time Town. Then along came Trane, who progressed from ridiculously fast to…well, what would you call it? In 1958, “Downbeat” jazz critic Ira Gitler described Coltrane’s approach as “sheets of sound,” and the term has been used ever since.

The speed, creativity, and beauty with which skilled jazz improvisers incorporate double-time passages into their solos can seem daunting to beginning players, not to mention flat-out bewildering. I mean, you’ve heard it played, so you know it can be done, but how do you even begin?

As is true with a lot of things musical, the answer is quick but the implementation takes considerable time. Really, the answer is plain old musical common sense that applies to learning how to do anything as a jazz musician: Listen analytically and practice carefully, ad infinitum. And, I should add, transcribe solos or at least memorize a few solo transcriptions.

That being said, let me expand on that wisdom with a few suggestions.

1. Identify a double-time passage that you like and then memorize it. By memorize, I mean work it over faithfully every practice session for a while until it sails effortlessly out of your fingers. If you really want to get something out of it, memorize it in every key, or at least a few other keys besides the one it was originally played in. Doing so will not only develop your dexterity, but also your ability to think quickly in different keys.

2. Start slow! Yes, it’s double-time, but you won’t play it well fast unless you can first play it well slowly. Once you’ve nailed down your passage at that slower speed, then increase your tempo a bit, and keep increasing it incrementally until you’re playing the lick at the same speed as it was originally performed–or, if it’s an idea of your own creation, at a speed as fast as you’d like to be able to pull it off on the bandstand.

3. Use a metronome. It’s easy to race with double-time, and trust me, it doesn’t sound at all impressive when you end up two beats ahead of the rhythm section.

4. Once you’ve got the passage drilled into your fingers fairly well, play with the artist’s recording or with some kind of accompaniment that lets your ears hear a harmonic and rhythmic context for what you’re playing.

5. Note any distinctive features of the passage. Does it involve one or more grupettos (a favorite device of Sonny Stitt’s)? Where do passing tones occur? Are there any alterations to a dominant chord such as an augmented fifth or a flatted ninth?

6. Be aware of how the scales, intervals, and arpeggios you’ve been practicing relate to your double-time passage. They do, and seeing how will add inspiration and direction for your ongoing work on the fundamentals and suggest new ways of approaching them.

7. Be patient and be persistent. This stuff doesn’t come overnight. But it will come provided you stick with it.

8. Realize that you’re striving for the snowball effect. You know: You start with a small snowball, and as you roll it along, it collects more snow and becomes larger and larger–and the bigger it gets, the greater quantities of snow it is able to pick up as you continue to roll it. As you build your musical vocabulary and the technique to execute it skillfully, you’ll find yourself adding material to material, expanding your musical inventory in increasingly creative ways, and ultimately, spontaneously generating brand new ideas. Your thinking will speed up, your capacity to respond intuitively to the music will increase, and so will your dexterity to play on your horn what you hear in your head.

I’ll conclude with a bit of cautionary advice: Just because you can play fast doesn’t mean you should. Let taste, not technique, be your guide. As a jazz musician develops speed and discovers that he or she can play swift passages with increasing effectiveness, a temptation enters to “prove” oneself by playing lots of double-time. But playing fast isn’t the same thing as playing well.

A good jazz soloist knows how to build a solo using slower passages, longer tones, and space as well as the really fast stuff. Double-time is just one device to use along with other devices in the larger context of telling a musical story. The story’s the thing, and a good story is about pace, contrast, and development, not perpetual fast action.

I’m preaching to myself as I say this, because I’m prone to overplay, and one of the things I’m working at is to hold that tendency in check–to lay back more and play in ways that are stylistically appropriate. Strangely, I have a hard time playing with blues bands, and one of the reasons is because in that style, simpler is usually better. Once you develop speed and complexity, it can be hard to trust simplicity. But it’s important to do so.

Enough on this subject. I hope you’ll find this article to be helpful and encouraging. The big thing, again, is  to practice hard and stick with it. Do that and you’ll do fine. Like everything else in music, you’ll master the art of playing double-time in due time as long as you keep working at it.

Stormhorn Jazz: It’s Happenin’ Saturday at the Cobblestone!

Last week’s gig at the Cobblestone was the best yet! The turnout was fantastic, and it included some very welcome faces. My sweet mother and sister, Diane, came to listen. So did Kyle Wellfare, band director for the Caledonia Senior High School and a jazz bass player. And so did long-lost and recently found high school classmates Sue Marie Carrick and Steve Afendoulis.

Steve and I go back a long ways. We were both still in junior high school when he asked me to play in a big band he was forming called The Formal Aires. Managed by Steve’s dad, Gus Afendoulis, and co-directed by saxophonist and big band veteran Ted Carino and composer Sid Stellema, the Formal Aires enjoyed constant weekend bookings at country clubs, weddings, and social events. The band was my introduction to jazz, and Steve was our leader.

When Steve got wind of my gig via FaceBook, he told me he was coming out and asked if he could sit in. Heck yes! It was a real joy to reconnect with him and make music together again after over 35 years. And Steve did great. He hadn’t touched his set in a long time, but he fit right in, keeping the beat and catching the breaks in a way only someone informed by plenty of prior experience could do.

This Saturday my regular partners in music, Dave DeVos and Paul Lesinski, have previous bookings, and that’s the case for the next couple weeks as well. Never fear, though–I have some stellar players joining me: Steve Talaga on keyboards and Charlie Hoats on bass. I’ve not met Charlie in person yet, and I’ve been wanting to, not only because he comes with glowing recommendations, but also because he lives right here in Caledonia just a couple miles up the road from me. As for Steve Talaga, I’m well acquainted with his playing. The man is fabulous. ‘Nuff said.

So put Saturday in your book and come on out. The Cobblestone is developing a reputation for urban-quality dining in an accessible, refreshingly non-urban setting. And of course you’ll enjoy listening to live jazz! Here’s what you need to know:

• Date & Time: Saturday, February 5, 6:0-9:00 p.m.

• Place: The Cobblestone Bistro & Banquet Center

• Address: 9818 Cherry Valley Ave. SE (M-37), Caledonia, MI

• Phone: (616) 588-3223

Reservations are recommended, but walk-ins are welcome.

Update: Music Posts Now Partially Restored

To those of you who follow this blog: Thanks for your patience as I rewire it following a recent and important transition. While I’ve experienced some setbacks, I’m nevertheless making progress and want to let you know where things presently stand.

The current status will be of greater interest to musicians than weather weenies. In a nutshell, my music posts dating back to November 19, 2009, are now all properly linked to the correct images. When you click on an active link for a particular exercise or solo transcription, now the enlarged image that appears will be what you’d expect to see rather than a photograph of a tornado or a wild orchid!

I know you’re not seeing the image thumbnails! But you can still click them and view the full-size images.

Something appears to be screwed up with my image plug-in, NexGen. The past couple of NexGen updates, rather than improve the plug-in, have degraded its functionality, and the last one evidently stripped the image thumbnails from my pages, leaving white placeholders in their place.

Fortunately, the placeholders are active. So if you click on them, you’ll get a full-size image. Obviously, that’s not a satisfactory long-term situation–the thumbnails need to be restored–but one thing at a time. Right now I want to focus on the things that I can easily fix on my end; then I’ll tackle the NexGen issue. My hope is that meanwhile NexGen will release an update that fixes the problem.

My plan: first fix all the music posts, then the weather.

I’m taking this approach for three reasons. First, the music posts get more traffic through the entire history of the the posts. The exercises, transcriptions, and articles deal with information that doesn’t get dated, and since there seems to be a strong, ongoing interest in those posts, I want to get them restored as quickly as possible.

Second, the music posts aren’t as image-intensive as my storm chasing posts, so they’re easier to fix, and I can have them back in shape relatively quickly. I’m already MORE THAN HALFWAY FINISHED with them.

Finally, this is the off-season weatherwise, and while I know that the weather never takes a break–as I write, an intense winter storm is shaping up for much of the CONUS for tomorrow and Wednesday–nevertheless, we’ve got a ways to go before the spring storm season kicks in. This isn’t to say that I’m not anxious to get the storm chasing stuff–not to mention the other aspects of this site such as my photos page and CopyFox page–hooked up with the correct images. It’s just that I’ve got to tackle this job in an orderly fashion.

Bear with me, because I’m hammering away on this thing as best I can. Getting this blog fully restored and coasting along with all sails catching the wind is a huge priority for me. So stay tuned. My next update will probably come soon, once all the music posts are fixed.

Stormhorn Jazz Tonight at the Cobblestone

A quick reminder, in case you haven’t gotten one from me on Facebook, that my jazz trio, Stormhorn Jazz, is playing tonight from 6:30–9:30 p.m. at the Cobblestone Bistro in Caledonia, Michigan. This is a beautiful place with superb food, world-class wines, a good offering of domestic, imported, and craft-brewed beers, an elegant and comfortable bar, and ambiance galore complete with a fireplace and even, yes, a waterfall–plus, of course, live jazz by Dave DeVos on bass, Steve Durst on keyboards, and me on the alto sax and vocals.

The Cobblestone is one of the best things about Caledonia, at least from a musical and dining perspective, and Ben, the owner, loves jazz. So come on out and show your support. I promise you, you’ll be pleased at what you find. Here are the details:

• Date & Time: Saturday, January 15, 6:30-9:30 p.m.

• Place: The Cobblestone Bistro & Banquet Center

• Address: 9818 Cherry Valley Ave. SE (M-37), Caledonia, MI

• Phone: (616) 588-3223

Reservations are recommended, but walk-ins are welcome.

The Most Insulting Love Song Ever

A month from now is Valentine’s Day, a time when thoughts turn to romance, chocolates, and tender songs. The most beloved Valentine’s ballad is undoubtedly “My Funny Valentine.” Frankly, though, I have to wonder why. Have you ever seriously considered the lyrics? If a woman I was with ever slapped my self-concept across the face with a song like that, she’d be going home in a cab and paying her own fare.

Just look at the words to “My Funny Valentine” and tell me they make you feel cherished, idolized, and all-around glowingly great about being you. You want something that’ll take you a few pegs down from warm and fuzzy, the old Rogers and Hart tune will do it.

Let’s say you’re a lady and the guy you’re with has gotten it into his head that he’s going to sing you this song while gazing soulfully into your eyes. Here, line by line, is what he’s saying to you, along with an explication of its actual meaning:

My funny Valentine–sweet, comic Valentine

You make me smile in my heart.

So far, so good. Your amour finds you amusing. But is that really a smile in his heart or a snicker?

Your looks are laughable.

Doesn’t take long for the truth to come out, does it. He’s just told you that your appearance is a joke.

Unphotographable.

You’re ugly. Your face would melt the sensor on a digital camera.

Still you’re my favorite work of art.

He’s into Cubism, so consider that line nothing but a left-handed compliment.

Is your figure less than Greek?

You’re not Rubenesque, you’re just overweight. And yes, that dress makes your butt look fat, definitely.

Is your mouth a little weak?

What the hell does that mean? Maybe he’s commenting on your receding chin. Surely he doesn’t expect you to curl dumbbells with your lips.

When you open it to speak, are you smart?

He thinks you’re stupid. Ugly, fat, weak-mouthed, chinless, and stupid. What on earth are you doing with this dork? He’s done nothing but insult you since he started singing this idiotic song. You’d have been better off spending Valentine’s Day with your cat, who is thoroughly nuts about you, not to mention a whole lot nicer.

But don’t change a hair for me. Not if you care for me.

Care for him? He’s lucky you haven’t bitch slapped him into oblivion.

Stay, little Valentine, stay!

Unbelievable. The jerk is propositioning you. Having verbally abused you, having shredded your ego to the consistency of mulch, now he wants to have sex with you. And all the while, he’s staring into your eyes and singing that stupid, snarky song with that stupid smirk on his stupid face.

Each day is Valentine’s day.

Not in a pig’s eye it ain’t. Not today, not any day. You smack the insensitive turd with your purse and walk out the door. Don’t change a hair for him? You’d like to rearrange his entire face for him. Bastard!

Then again, it could be PMS.

Stormhorn Jazz at the Cobblestone Bistro (Or, The Difference a Bass Makes)

Saturday evening at the Cobblestone Bistro here in Caledonia was one of those very rewarding gigs that result from the combination of a stellar rhythm section, a beautiful setting, and an appreciative audience. I couldn’t ask for better guys to play with than Paul Lesinski and Dave DeVos. Each is a seasoned, top West Michigan veteran on his instrument, and both are just plain nice, down-to-earth guys with no attitudes to deal with. They’re responsible and easy to get along with, solid and intuitive musicians who’ve been around the block many times over, so I have confidence in them. That confidence in turn inspires my own creativity and willingness to take risks as a saxophonist.

Last Friday on New Years Eve, Steve Durst and I played for the dinner crowd as a piano-sax duo. With years of experience under his belt, Steve does a superb job, and we got some very nice compliments. But man, what a difference the addition of Dave on bass made this weekend!

I’m certain Steve would readily agree that having to fill in the bass part with the left hand greatly limits what a keyboard player can do. Good players can pull it off, but I don’t know of any pianist who wouldn’t much prefer having a bassist handle the bass part so his own left hand is free to do what it’s meant to do in a jazz context. The difference is huge–the groove, far better; the sound, fuller and richer; the creative options, much broader; and the energy, multiplied. All without any significant increase in volume that can distract from conversation in a restaurant setting.

The crowd certainly liked our sound. People were actually listening to us and applauding from tune to tune, and even for some of the solos. I stopped to chat with a few of the diners during break, thanking them for their responsiveness, and I got some glowing comments in return. It’s really gratifying to see the interest in jazz that exists in this rural neck of the woods, many miles from the urban center of Grand Rapids.

We play again at the Cobblestone this coming Saturday from 6:30-9:30 p.m., this time with Steve filling the piano chair. If you like live jazz, come on out and enjoy an evening of good food and world-class wines plus the Stormhorn Jazz trio, all in an ambience-rich setting that will warm you as soon as you set foot through the door. Here’s the info:

• Date & Time: Saturday, January 15, 6:30-9:30 p.m.

• Place: The Cobblestone Bistro & Banquet Center

• Address: 9818 Cherry Valley Ave. SE (M-37), Caledonia, MI

• Phone: (616) 588-3223

Reservations are recommended, but walk-ins are welcome.

I should mention the large and beautifully designed banquet hall in the back of the building, styled in the manner of a large, European sidewalk cafe. Ben, the owner, is contemplating special events, so keep your eyes open for jazz concerts in the future. I’ll keep you posted on this site and on my Stormhorn page on Facebook as brainstorms and good ideas become actual dates on the calendar.

Need I say, please come out and support the Cobblestone. It’s a great setting and has the potential to distinguish itself not only for destination dining, but also as a hotspot for jazz that’s located outside the urban clutter, yet close enough to be convenient.

Pentatonic Pattern in Mode Four

You can’t get much more basic than a pentatonic scale. Maybe that’s the reason why I haven’t spent much time focusing on the pentatonic in recent years. But the flip side is, pentatonics can be applied in some pretty complex ways which, far from simple, require as much practice as any other building block of music. At its essence, the pentatonic is a harmless, soulful, and down-homey scale with which you can’t go wrong. But pentatonics are also a prime source of angularity. They’re applied extensively in sideslipping. And they’re used to realize a variety of harmonies, particularly dominant seventh chords of various alterations.

All those possibilities latent within the lowly pentatonic scale! Once you really start exploring its applications, the pentatonic requires extensive work to get it under your fingers. That’s probably the bigger reason why I haven’t spent much time practicing pentatonics: there’s a formidable amount to deal with, and I’ve chosen to concentrate on other things instead.

So I’m by no means writing this post as a master of the pentatonic scale, but rather, as someone who is sharing as he learns. Knowing music theory as I do, I realize how useful the pentatonic scale really is. Frankly, I find its broadness of application a bit daunting, because it means there’s a lot, an awful lot, involved in really internalizing the scale in more than a superficial way. But there’s nothing to be gained by procrastination, so lately, inspired by the playing of Ernie Watts in his album “Four Plus Four,” I’ve been revisiting my pentatonic scales and plan to spend some time going more in depth with them in my practice sessions. To be sure, there was a time years ago when I worked on them pretty consistently, but my overall abilities on the saxophone have expanded since then, so I’m hoping that today I can get my base level of pentatonic proficiency to snowball.

pentatonic-mode-4Here is a simple exercise I’ve been using, built on mode four of the major pentatonic scale. (Click on the image to enlarge it.) There’s nothing particularly novel or creative about it, but that’s not the point. Its meant to help develop dexterity in shifting from one tonality to another, in this case by half-step. The exercise begins with the fourth mode of the F pentatonic scale, and then, as you can see, moves chromatically up and then back down. Work it out two to four bars at a time, focusing on problem areas till you’ve smoothed them out, and then connect the dots one by one until you can play the exercise throughout the full range of your instrument.

Good luck, practice hard, and, as always, enjoy yourself! And don’t forget to check out the many other exercises, articles, and solo transcriptions on my jazz page. They’re all free, and free is good, yes?