What Is Jazz?

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.

July 10, 2010 by
Filed Under: Band, Christian Music, Jazz, Jazz Improvisation and Technique Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,

Mastering the Sax: Building a Baseline of Ability

As I sat in my car by the railroad tracks last night out in the countryside, practicing my saxophone and doing my best impression of a Shady Character Waiting To Make A Drug Deal for the benefit of curious passers-by, it struck me how far I’ve come since I began woodshedding in earnest back in college. It’s a long way, but not far enough. There are high-school-age kids who can do what I do. Not many, but they’re out there, along with a host of college music majors who are blazing incendiary trails across today’s jazz firmament.

I can’t afford to think about it. Topnotch jazz programs featuring world class saxophone instructors have multiplied over the years, and out of that educational milieu are arising some brilliant young players. There are bound to be a few who at half my age possess twice my ability.

A few. But probably not all that many. Because while those music majors have been in the practice rooms busily learning their instruments, I’ve been in my car by the tracks doing the same thing. However, my practice schedule has probably been more spotty than theirs, and so have my opportunities to play jazz live with other experienced jazz musicians. Unless you’re in a position where you can immerse yourself in music without interruption, the demands of making a living have a way of imposing themselves on your practice time. They can stop you if you let them, but they probably don’t have to. You just have to accept a slower rate of growth that accommodates the rest of life.

The learning curve for mastering a musical instrument is different for everyone. We all have different circumstances, different degrees of natural ability, different competing interests that round us out as individuals, and so on.

I thought about this last night as I worked out some bop tunes in the key of F# and revisited “Giant Steps.” My storm chasing excursion out west last weekend had cost me several days of practice, and my fingers could tell the difference. But they snapped back into shape quickly.

Playing the saxophone is not like riding a bike. You don’t just hop back on and regain instant command after not having ridden in a while. You’ve got to reclaim old ground.

What does happen, though, is that when you practice diligently, you continue to raise the baseline of your abilities. Persistent, focused practice not only will put you at the top of your game, but it will also build and expand a musical foundation you can fall back on during those times when your practice routine falls by the wayside.

My book on “Giant Steps” patterns is nearing pub time, but to be honest, I haven’t spent much time actually playing “Steps” in recent history. So last night I broke out my workbook and my Aebersold CD of Coltrane tunes, and I got a pleasant surprise. It has been years since the period in my musical development when I saturated myself in “Giant Steps.” But I found myself navigating the changes, finding my way through familiar patterns, exploring ideas–not on the same level as if I’d been consistently practicing Coltrane changes, true, but well enough for me to feel pretty good about what I was doing. In fact, in some ways I played the tune better than I did in the past. Other musical material that I’ve acquired over the years provided a richer repository of ideas and technical finesse. Old and new came together, and while the result wasn’t perfect, it was at least coherent.

To sum up: Stick with your instrument. Never give up. Life has its seasons and its discouragements, but persistence really does pay off. Don’t measure your musical growth by other players, but by the satisfaction you get as you set and accomplish realistic personal goals. Be honest with yourself, be as diligent in practicing as you can be, be hard on yourself only when you have to be, listen to and study great players, and don’t get so obsessed with arriving at your destination that you forget to enjoy the journey. Do this, and over time you’ll build a solid baseline of craftsmanship and musicality that will serve you well during the off-seasons of your musical life.

May 29, 2010 by
Filed Under: Jazz, Jazz Improvisation and Technique, Life, Music, Saxophone Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

“Giant Steps” E-Book: Taking a Step Back in Order to Step Forward

Here’s an update on my book of “Giant Steps” licks and patterns.

By now I had hoped to have it available for purchase online as an e-book. However, after getting feedback from a couple friends whose wisdom and musical expertise I highly respect, I’ve decided to take a little more time to do the job right.

Initially, the idea of simply scanning my handwritten practice book appealed to me. I liked the homespun, pencil-and-staff-paper feel. Nothing fancy, just solid practice material that will help jazz musicians get a firm handle on Coltrane changes. For that reason, I had titled the book–and still plan to title it–“The Giant Steps Scratch Pad.”

But there are limitations to the approach I’ve described. For one thing, legibility is an issue in some parts of the scanned material. In the process of copying all of my handwritten material, the scanner was also picking up on smudges and erasures, and it was failing to clearly copy some of the lighter print. After taking up pencil and eraser and editing several pages for better effect, and doing a bit of clean-up work with PhotoShop as well, the result is acceptable. Frankly, I kinda like it, and part of me wants to offer it as is. But I can do better.

So I’m going to get the material properly notated using transcription software. Not only will the finished result look much more polished, but I will be able to offer it for the entire suite of C, Bb, Eb, and bass clef instruments. The scanned approach doesn’t offer that flexibility; I had written the patterns for my own instrument, the Eb alto sax, and the book was what it was.

Taking to heart the advice I’ve gotten, then, I’m taking a step back in order to take “Giant Steps” forward. Hopefully the delay won’t be a long one. I’m eager to get the book published. I just want to make sure it’s everything it can be right out of the starting gate.

So keep your eyes peeled for further developments. The hard, creative work is already done. I just need to explore my options, then take the best one and git ‘er done.

–Bob

May 14, 2010 by
Filed Under: Jazz, Jazz Improvisation and Technique, Saxophone Tagged With: , , ,

Giant Steps E-Book Update

Last week I announced the upcoming release of an e-book filled with licks and patterns designed to help jazz musicians  improvise on the famous John Coltrane tune “Giant Steps.”

As is true of just about any big endeavor that’s worth doing, though, this one is taking a little longer than I’d anticipated. Much of the reason for that is due to touch-up work I needed to do after scanning all my handwritten material. And of course I needed to design a cover. Now I’m seeking a few endorsements, and I still need to set up an online store.

So I thought I’d give you a quick update just to reassure you that this ebook is moving along. If you’re interested in getting hold of a practical, hands-on book you can take with you into the woodshed and emerge better equipped to tackle those gnarly “Giant Steps” changes, then keep watching this blog for further announcements. I won’t keep you waiting very long–promise!

May 11, 2010 by
Filed Under: Jazz, Jazz Improvisation and Technique, Saxophone Tagged With: , ,

Intuitive Jazz Solos: Hearing the Music with Your Fingers

Last night, after a particularly inspirational practice session, I found myself thinking about what it was that I was accomplishing. Saturating myself in the rarely used key of concert A, as I’ve been doing lately, and also taking new material through all twelve keys, has not only been unlocking my saxophone technique overall, but it is also causing me to consider the result I’m after. In a nutshell, I want my fingers to hear the music.

That’s my way of saying that I want to get the muscle memory in my fingers integrally linked with my inner ear, and my inner ear to what I’m actually hearing moment by moment in a given improvisational setting, so intimately that I can conceive ideas instantly and execute them flawlessly.

Have you noticed that there are certain keys in which your fingers just naturally know where to go? Keys and tunes in which you’ve mastered your melodic materials to the point where they’re innate; where licks and patterns are just tools in your toolkit, not your life raft that keeps you afloat? Concert Bb, F, and C major are keys most jazz musicians are quite familiar with, for instance. But what about B, D, A, or F#? The American Songbook may not abound with tunes written in the “hard” keys, but lots of songs have momentary digressions to them.

“Ornithology,” for example, has a temporary excursion into the key of concert A in the form of a iii-VI7-ii-V7 progression. The bridge section to “Cherokee” includes an entire four-bar ii-V7-I cadence in that same key. Spending time trying to master those two tunes has given me incentive to hash out the key of A, to the point where my fingers are starting to “hear” in that key. They “feel” where the third and leading tone of the scale are, and how those notes fit into different harmonic contexts; they’re getting better at handling the avoid-tone of the fourth; they’re becoming friends with passing and non-harmonic tones, and growing more adept at using non-diatonic notes to realize borrowed harmonies.

It’s a process that begins with thinking things through, then working your thinking into your fingers through repetition over many practice sessions. The result, over time, is less deliberation (“If I play an E, that’ll be the #9 of the C#+7#9 chord, moving down to D, then resolving to the root”) and more instantaneous response. Once you reach that point, you no longer need to tell your fingers what to do; they feel it for themselves in their wee little finger souls. Your thinking speeds up, and your fingers are right there with you, eager to serve your ideas and fully capable of doing so.

How many keys, and how many tunes, can you hear with your fingers? Pay your dues in the woodshed, transcribe and memorize jazz solos, play out whenever you get a chance, and over time, your fingers will develop big ears.

March 23, 2010 by
Filed Under: Band, Jazz, Jazz Improvisation and Technique, Music, Saxophone Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,

On Beyond Jazz: Expanding Your Appreciation of Musical Diversity

Is it safe to come out of my bunker now? Has the war between jazz and rock finally ended? I don’t hear any incoming missiles. But then, I’m kind of out of the loop these days when it comes to who is presently saying what in the various music periodicals.

It does seem to me that in this melting pot called America, music has come a long way in developing mutual respect between the different genres. The purist dividing lines have given way to healthy crossover and cooperative experimentation between music styles and artists, and the style racists who once wrung their hands and shouted, “Miscegenation!” back in the days of “Bitches Brew” have long since been thrust aside by open-minded musicians searching for fresh, creative possibilities. Yet I wonder to what extent the old biases still continue to influence us.

Back in my college days, rock music was largely scorned by jazz musicians, and the feeling was amply returned. You couldn’t pick up a “Downbeat” magazine and read an article on fusion without some reader writing in to complain, “That’s not jazz!” If it wasn’t bebop, it it involved an approach to the drum set that was other than tang-tanka-tang, then the purists were up in arms, donning their white hoods and burning their crosses in the letter section. Even back then, naive as I was, I found the topic of this is/isn’t jazz to be petty, not to mention boring, when the groups in question involved world class musicians who knew the standard jazz vocabulary inside-out.

I also found the notion that jazz was the only worthwhile music, or the idea that any one style of music was better than the rest, to be confining, narrow-minded, and pointless. I mean, I cut my teeth on classic rock music–on groups such as Jefferson Airplane, Mountain, Jimi Hendrix, Jethro Tull, King Crimson, Yes, Genesis, and Fleetwood Mac–and I didn’t stop loving rock and roll just because I was starting to become immersed in jazz.

So why was it that jazzers and rockers seemed to have so little respect for each other? For that matter, what was it about symphonic musicians that gave them such an illusion of superiority over all the rest? And why did it go without saying (by me among the rest, I hate to confess) that country/western was inferior music?

Tell me that things have changed since those days. I think they have. From what I can see, we’ve come a long way.

At bottom, all music is divisible into just two categories: good music and bad music. Beyond that, it’s a matter of personal preference. And that is fine; in fact, it’s inevitable. Each of us is drawn to certain kinds of music and not drawn to others. It’s a matter of individual taste, which fines down even beyond general categories to subcategories and artists of all kinds. It’s all good as long as it doesn’t lead to demeaning other forms of musical expression, or to closing ourselves off to their creativity and richness.

Still today, it’s unlikely that I’ll ever purchase a country music CD. However, that choice is influenced not by musical snobbery, but by the fact that I’m a jazz saxophonist with a limited music budget, and on the relatively rare occasions when I purchase a CD, I usually stick with jazz, guided by a goal of learning my craft as well as enjoying its sound. It’s a matter of focus and preference, not elitism. If I’m driving down the highway and happen upon a good country station on the radio, then I’ll listen to it and enjoy it. Over the years and the long, long highway miles, I’ve come to appreciate that country music harbors some of the finest lyricists and songwriters in the world.

My point: Why limit yourself in what you listen to? Jazz is awesome music, but it’s not all that is out there. Broaden your world. Go to YouTube and check out some of the old film clips of Janis Joplin, Hendrix, and the Beatles. Tune in to The Thistle & Shamrock on NPR and let Fiona Ritchie give you an exhilarating earful of wild, wonderful Celtic music. The world of music has wide, wide horizons; open your ears to ways of expressing musical and creative excellence other than the ones you’re used to. Allow yourself to be influenced by the amazing diversity of music in this world. Doing so will enrich your own artistry as a jazz musician.

February 7, 2010 by
Filed Under: Band, Jazz, Life, Music, Saxophone Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Band Link Up: A New Virtual Community for Musicians

Attention, jazz musicians and other purveyors of melody! Want to get in on the groundswell of an online community devoted to musicians? Then click on Band Link Up, look it over, take a minute to register, and then start posting and helping this unique labor of love to grow into a thriving virtual hangout for musicians, vocalists, singer/songwriters, and other artistes of every stripe.

I first got wind of it while installing a new operating system on my laptop. The tech who was assisting me, aka Jeff, and I got to chatting while waiting for a lengthy download to complete, and once we got onto the subject of music, things naturally progressed from there. Turns out that Jeff’s fiancee plays violin and loves to connect with other musicians. So as a gift to her, Jeff decided to put together an entire site dedicated to the purpose of helping musicians talk shop, trade ideas, share sound tracks and videos, and so forth.

I’ve already registered, and I’m encouraging all my musical friends and everyone who is actively involved in performance, recording, composing, or music education to do the same. Band Link Up shows great potential as a service to musicians. Please get on board and help make it happen.

February 2, 2010 by
Filed Under: Band, Christian Music, Church Worship, Entertainment, Jazz, Music, Saxophone Tagged With: , , , , , ,

Some Reflections on the Icons of Jazz and Storm Chasing

I just finished looking through a couple forum threads on Stormtrack.org, one of them about what makes a person a “true” storm chaser, and the other about storm chasing legends, about the forerunners who have risen to icon status. In reading the latter thread, I was struck by a similarity between jazz and storm chasing that I had never seen before: each is a distinctively American art form.

While today both jazz musicians and storm chasers hail from all over the world, yet we owe our respective crafts to a handful of American pioneers who, guided by passion and a quest to learn and excel, first set forth into uncharted territory and showed the rest of us the way.

Both pursuits are young. Jazz has been with us for only a century. Storm chasing has existed half that time, a little over fifty years. In the history of both, the progression of discoveries and advancements has been rapid, even dizzying. One obvious difference is that the patriarchs of jazz have passed on, whereas most of the veterans of storm chasing are still with us. Louis Armstrong is long gone, but David Hoadley remains a present inspiration, and while I’ve never met him, I assume from his occasional input on Stormtrack–the online descendant of Hoadley’s trade magazine for chasers–that he’s still fairly active.

I suspect that Hoadley wouldn’t see himself in the same light as Louis Armstrong. From all accounts of David, he’s a humble man who likely would feel surprised to be compared with the likes of Louis. Yet both men are innovators. Both followed their instincts to accomplish something that had never been done before. In Armstrong’s case, the result was the birth of a brand new musical language of feeling, inflection, and improvisation. With Hoadley, it was the acquisition of knowledge and insights that could only come from actively pursuing tornadic storms rather than passively waiting for the storms to come to him.

Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis, John Coltrane.

David Hoadley, Tim Marshall, Jim Leonard, Chuck Doswell, Al Moller, Howard Bluestein.

The lists are only partial, and over time they will grow. Storm chasing probably has more potential for true innovators to rise within its ranks than does jazz, for similarities aside, jazz is driven primarily by creative explorations that have for the most part already been made, whereas storm chasing deals with a subject about which much still remains unknown, and is influenced to a much greater degree by advances in meteorology and technology. Regardless, the icons of each field occupy a special, venerable position that can never be duplicated. The rest of us–whether we’re small-town musicians or world-renowned artists, or whether we’re neophyte chasers or OKU grad students with plenty of chase seasons under our belts–can only do the best we know how to carry the torches lit by our predecessors.

From our ranks, too, new knowledge will come and new beauty will be birthed, and from time to time, someone truly remarkable will rise to the surface. Let’s hope that person’s generosity of spirit will be in keeping with his or her abilities.

As was Louis’ Armstrong’s. As is David Hoadley’s.

August 23, 2009 by
Filed Under: Life, Saxophone, Storm Chasing, Tornadoes Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,
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