Repeating Yourself Repeating Yourself....

I've been really blessed with the best September I've had in NYC...I've been gigging an average of once a week this month. With this unexpected wealth of public performances I've gotten a chance to play with a lot of new musicians in a lot of new situations. I should be happy...and I am. But one thing is really bothering me and that is the nagging feeling that I'm always repeating myself.

This sense of repeating yourself...of always playing the same few solos...is not unique to free jazz. Some fairly well known soloists made entire careers out of rearranging licks and pentatonic scales. Phil Woods comes to mind. I'm not even sure how bad this really is. Gene Harris is one of my favorite straight ahead pianists...noone plays with more joy or life. And yet his solos are really nothing more than beautifully executed blues licks. If the player brings something personal to the sound...puts himself or herself behind the music then it almost doesn't matter if they are licks or not.

But free music is harder in some ways. It's a music in which people pay lip service to the idea of creating totally in the moment. It's about being spontaneous and unpredictable at all times. No small order that!

In reality free jazz is full of licks just like any other music. Licks are another word for language and you have to have a language to make music. Your language may be in the notes, chords and rhythms you choose or it may be based more in sound exploration or non-idiomatic exploration...but we all have a bag of tricks that we have developed through playing, listening and experimenting. That's how you develop personal style.

The issue for me is when I start to find the tricks taking me over rather than me controling the tricks. I notice a similar shape to my solos...they start melodically and with development of musical cells and ideas...but they always end up with clusters and tearing up the piano in some way which to me is the only way a piano player can approximate the overblowing of a sax or the growls of a brass instrument.

The frustration for me is the way this form can get stale...it's like I know it's going to happen before it does. Interestingly, this repetativeness doesn't happen in jam sessions. It's a function of the audience. Sometimes the clusters happen because they have to, but other times I'm aware that I'm giving the audience what they want...a little wild craziness. Often the solos I'm most proud of...the ballad solos...are the ones that get me the least appreciation from the audience. I sometimes feel like I'm grandstanding or dumbing down my music for what I percieve the audience to be expecting or in some weird feeling of competition with horn players.

I don't know the answer to this conundrum except to name it and work on it I think. When I acknowledge that I feel in a rut I might actually be able to harness the tools to get out of the rut. It's related to the Jazz Neurosis that Steve Prozinger wrote about at Brilliant Corners...you are always getting the nagging feeling that you just aren't hitting what you want to be hitting...or that your musical vision isn't quite where you want it to be.

Maybe at long last it's time for me to grow up as a musician and stop worrying about the audience...I dunno. Might bring in a new variation to the work.

To Rip or Not To Rip

Last week I was fortunate enough to have a three night stint with Steve Swell's Nation of We large ensemble at a really nice performance venue in Soho. N.O.W. gigs are few and far between...we've existed since 2005 and have now had ten gigs...but they always have the feel of an event. The band is a mix of players from various areas of the scene and often we don't see each other much during the rest of the year so there's kind of a crackle in the air.

After three nights of really exceptional music there was the congratulatory round of emails. During this one of the players mentioned that there was an MP3 of the second night's gig on the web already. I followed the link and sure enough, someone in the audience had ripped the performance and put it up there for free download. There were various reactions to this news and it got me thinking about the bootleg phenomenon and how I feel about it.

Bootlegging is as old as recorded music...maybe even older if you believe the story about baby boy Mozart going home and making a perfect transcription of Allegri's 8 Part Miserere from memory after hearing it once. Musicians have always had an uneasy relationship with it. But with the advances in modern technology and the internet the issue is broader than ever. Portable recording devices are really cheap and incredibly good. You can buy an Edirol recorder for under 300 and get near CD quality from your recordings. I had a portable TEAC myself which, until it went on the fritz gave me really good quality recordings from all my gigs. I am an obsessive ripper and love having even jam sessions documented as I never really know if the music's that good when I play (that's the subject of another post). The controversy though I think is in the use to which bootlegs are put.

When someone rips a live performance and then tries to profit from it by selling the bootleg I think it's a no-brainer. This is clearly wrong and I think most musicians would be angry with this. It's our hard work that's being used to profit someone else who just happens to have a portable recorder and that's not right. The stickier issue is when someone rips a concert and then puts it up on the net for file-sharing. Typically the older musicians I know are pretty much against it. They feel that it is still exploiting the work. I can understand this point of view...especially if the concert is being professionally recorded for release as an album. I know the Nation's gig fits this.

But on the other hand, I'm not sure it's such a bad thing. First of all, most ripped performances, especially of complicated large ensemble music, cannot capture the balances and dynamics of a live recording. Having heard other recordings that our group has made in this venue, the performance on the net is pale in comparison and only caught a small amount of what happened that night. (I would think this though cause on the bootleg the piano is almost inaudible!) Some horn solos sound like they are accompanying the rhythm section while other times when the horns are playing backing lines they are way too far front in the mix. This is not the case in the official recordings of these gigs. So I think the really interested fan would want to opt for an official copy. Secondly, the audience for this music is never going to be huge. It's not like anyone is going to make a fortune off of a free jazz album, especially now as the music industry is changing so drastically. A new paradigm is needed to harness the new technologies and we are all thinking and working in an outmoded product-based model.

I guess to me, recordings of your work are like fairly expensive resumes. They aren't really going to net you much real money. If you are lucky, and self-producing you might make enough money with one recording to fund your next one, but more than that is pretty unlikely. Traditionally musicians have always made their money through personal appearances anyway. So to me, any dissemination of your music to the public is a marketing tool and not something to be scared of. The more interest we can generate in our music the better chance we have to get people out to our gigs...and the better chance we have to tour outside of NYC...to make the break out of the category of "local" musicians.

There's certainly room for diversity of opinion in this debate. But one thing is sure, ripping is not going away and there isn't much we can do to stop it. If the RIAA can't effectively stop file-sharing of Eminem's latest with all the money and clout it has behind it, what chance do we have? We can either make it yet another grievance we have against the state of music, or we can try to figure out how to harness it to our advantage.

I say, make these lemons into lemonade...

Feed Yourself or Feed the Poor

The last objection that comes up when people talk about spirituality, healing and music is the objection of it's effectiveness. Roughly stated the objection goes this way. Being a musician is an inherently self-involved and self-directed activity. If you really want to help people than you should volunteer at a soup kitchen or work with inner city kids or something like that. Imagining that your music can heal the world is a pipe dream.

There is some validity to this argument. Being a creative musician is indeed at least a somewhat self-involved profession. Really engaging your creative voice is an inner journey...rather like Rilke's admonition to the young poet to dig deep in himself and ask...must I do this? We hone our craft in solitude...we write in solitude. We play communally but are still searching in ourselves for the as yet only imagined sound. As Steve Prozinger said over at Brilliant Corners, it's our jazz neurosis.

However this inner journey is also the inner journey of the shaman. In a traditional society a shaman travels innward in what might be rightly called a psychic break, except that this psychic break is caused intentionally through the use of music, drumming, chant and sometimes drugs. While on this psychic journey the shaman gathers knowledge and brings it back for the help and healing of the people. Sometimes the shaman uses what he or she has gained to bring the people on their own spirit journeys. The correlation with music isn't exact...but I do believe that we use sound in a similar way to bring an audience outside itself and somewhere else where hopefully they will derive a benefit. That benefit may be nothing more than just getting outside themselves for an hour or so and it may last no longer than a few hours afterwards...but drugs that heal the body don't last that long either. You gotta keep taking your blood pressure meds for them to be effective. Same with music.

The other part of the objection is that you could do more good actually feeding the poor or working for social justice than imagining your music has some healing power. My answer to this is...it isn't either/or. Musicians I know are often willing to play for free at benefits of all kinds. Most of them also have day jobs. Some of these jobs are pretty demeaning but I know many who work as teaching artists in inner city schools, or do elder music work at senior centers, or work politically for social justice. All of these activities help to tangibly improve society and most musicians I know take them very seriously. I know that I find as much reward in my own teaching artist work as I do in my playing. They are two sides of the same coin to me.

Also, anyone engaged in such work knows that you need to feed yourself while you are feeding others. Most social service people end up in burn out if they don't take care of themselves. Thinkers in the Liberation Theology Movement in Latin America talk about the need for an action/reflection praxis. You must take time to pray, meditate or otherwise feed your soul when you are engaged in social justice work or you run the risk of burnout. I know for me what has sustained me throughout a teaching career that was often extremely demanding is a steady regimen of meditation, and the ability to perform and write music. Neither side of me could really exist without the other.

Spiritual Music - Real or Delusion.

Whenever the subject of the spiritual in jazz comes up someone always wonders why some musicians have to delude themselves with spiritual claims. I've seen some wide ranging theories involving the jazz musician's play in society, poverty and the need for empowerment...and even the need to survive in the nefarious city. All of these responses take as given the fact that spirituality is a delusion, especially for musicians. I can't prove that it isn't so. But the words of musicians and my own experiences playing lead me to suspect it's not. And I suspect this based on the power of rhythm.

There's a concept in drum circle circles called entrainment. The idea is that listening and performing to repetitive and complex patterns leads to a sort of trance or meditation. Such entrainment can be seen in the ceremonies of Yoruban based religions like Voudon or Santeria, but also in the Dikr of the Sufis. Traditional religions in the West have lost some of this sense of surrender to the rhythm, perhaps because of it's association with what much of Christianity considers pagan but it does survive in klezmer music, Celtic music and most especially Gospel music.

The suspicion of rhythm and the belief that it was carnal in nature has lead to it's banishment from much Western religious worship. So music based on wild rhythm has been relegated to the secular realm and it's spiritual nature belittled or denied. Indeed entrainment is a powerful thing and out of context can lead to self-destructive excesses. A rave for instance can have an almost spiritual sense of entrainment behind the dancing and the energy, but it is also unregulated and can lead to self-destructive use of drugs and unsafe sex. Its as if the participants cant figure out what to do with all the energy and it winds back on itself.

But imagine how powerful the same experience could be if it was harnessed to the real intension to liberate the participants in some way. In Voudon the dancers actually become one with their gods...the god invoked "mounts" the participant and he or she become the vehicle of the godhead for a moment. That's powerful, and one of the reasons why Voudon has been the rallying cry for the oppressed of Haiti during the last decades. (That the Duvaliers also used the dark side of Voudon to oppress the people doesn't negate the power of this spirituality, but rather demonstrates that it is a double edged sword and music be used responsibly.) The same is true for Pentacostalism in America. The spirituality is most often a means for downtrodden to regain a sense of self...and can often lead to political action as well.

I'm not advocating for jazz spirituality to become some form of religion. Religions are also double edged swords and often work as much against the free flow of the spirit as they do for it. But it's important to remember that music is a powerful thing and can transport people out of themselves...even if only for an hour or so. An hour of honest entrainment can be of immense health benefit, even if the effects wear off. The hope is that like medicine, the listeners will keep coming back for more and that over time the benefits will grow and grow.

Yes...all of this may be delusional. But it would be a lovely thing if it wasn't so I for one choose to act as if it isn't. As in the old adage about chicken soup...it might not help a dead man...but it couldn't hoit.

Music and the Spirit

There's been a number of lively discussions over at Brilliant Corners concerning jazz and the spiritual element. It's got me thinking about my own views on music and spirituality and I thought I might explore them a little.

Seems to me that nothing gets more controversy started than when people bring up the spiritual in music....especially in jazz. It's actually not so controversial in classical music, where the spirituality of late Beethoven or Bach is regularly commented on by listeners and critics alike. Brahms Requiem can be seen as a beautiful meditation on the spiritual end of life but suggest the same about late Duke and people seem taken aback...at least if you are talking about the Japan Suite and not the Sacred Concerts. Stockhausen's insistence that he is from Saturn never seemed to attract criticism to his music (though people did make fun of him) and yet lots of people want to throw out all of Sun RA's catalog for his spiritual views.

When the subject of jazz and spirituality comes up there are usually a few reactions: 1) Why can't the music just be music? 2) Why do musicians engage in self-delusion? And 3) Why don't people just feed the hungry if they want to be of help to the planet rather than dressing up in yellow robes and skull caps and talking mumbojumbo about music as the healing force of the universe? I'm going to try to tackle the first question in this post.

The answer is....of course music can just be about music. There's nothing wrong with that at all. Actually most music in the history of the west is probably just that...music about music....or at.least about producing pleasant and entertaining sounds. Even tough music such as Milton Babbitt' s is fundamentally music about music. Its actually what.makes Babbitt such a witty composer....he sets up musical jokes and problems and solves them in serial language. Its music as puzzle.

All of us musicians look at music in this way at least sometimes. Deciding what to play over a series of changes is an intellectual puzzle...as is harmony and structure. And most musicians probably can have excellent careers without aspiring to anything more. But to me what separates the great journeyman from the deepest musicians is a more or less, serious dedication to what for want of a better word, I'd call the spiritual. Its not so much about ascribing to some religion or world view, though it can. Its more about purity of intention when playing. The resulting music can be deeply serious like Trane, or can be secular sounding...like Sonny Rollins or Rahsaan...its not so much about the outer aspect of the music as much as its about the intentions while you play. Rahsaan is a great example of this to me....he could wail over "I Say a Little Prayer For You" and make the rather trite song crackle with life. Pharoah continues this tradition with so many of his ballades....he has an absolutely amazing recording of The Greatest Love of All....something I never thought was possible.

The great musicians seem to live their.phrases...whether they are virtuoso passages or lyrical flights...its in the notes and even more deep in the sound. One note of Trane's can reduce you to tears just by the way it is played. This depth of attention I believe is healing to the listener in ways we are only beginning to comprehend.

Cecil and Structure

Back when I was first getting into free jazz I'd heard the mention of Cecil Taylor as the most advanced and contraversial pianist in the entire field. He was often mentioned as the "atonal" improviser and treated as if his music had only the most superficial relationship to jazz....basically the rhythm section and horns lineup was seen as the only vestiges of jazz tradition in his music. Then I heard my first Cecil recordings and I wondered what the fuss was about. Cecil's first Transition recordings and his album with Trane revealed a pianist who was quirky and interesting...but sounded more like an offshoot of Monk than some radical atonal improvisor. Of course once I listened to later albums like Unit Structures or the solo albums his unique vision became apparent to me. But even at his most radical I believe that Cecil's music has never lost this connection to tradition and in fact is still based on chord changes to this day.

A close listen to Conquistador in particular illustrates what I mean. The opening of the tune features solos over changing harmonic structures. Most of these structures can be reduced to minor sixth chords or half diminished chords. Cecil never voices these chords in traditional ways but his figures and choice of seconds and clusters show the harmonic underpinnings of these.chords, which are also strongly implied in the pre-written lines and in Jimmy Lyons'improvs. Once you get tot the head proper the "tune" sounds almost like classic Blue Note era hard bop. Throughout the rest of the cut these minor sixth chords are never far in the background. The music may have moments that fly into less tonal regions but for the most part the changes stand.

This remains true over the years as Cecil's style matures. For example, the second cut on Taylor, extraordinary Winged Serpent (Sliding Quadrant) CD is obviously based on a predetermined set of chord changes...along with a beautiful melody that sounds like it jumped out of the Ellington Orchestra Songbook. Close listens to even dense orchestral works like Melancholy or Owner of the Riverbank suggest that the structure may be flexible but there are still underlying changes in Cecil's music. And everyone who plays with Cecil that I know insists that they are playing changes.

To me this confirms that, despite apprarances to the, contrary even music as radical as CT's music has a deep and abiding relationship to the jazz tradition. Wynton Marsalis to the contrary this music has a history and a deep connection to the Ellington and Monk. Rather than the backwater of jazz that some would like to claim it is, Taylor has much to teach a willing listener....even a neo-con bopper. It just takes a little work and some open ears.

The Duke and the Monk Part 2

Please forgive the awkward cuts...I'm making these posts on a mobile device that I'm still figuring out.

Soooooo....Duke uses advanced harmonic devices but all of them are based on extensions of thirds and functional jazz harmony...with some clusters thrown in for color. The sound is sophisticated but still deeply within the jazz idiom. I suspect that this piece and many other Duke piano solos had a profound impact on Cecil Taylor and other early free jazz pianists.

Monk is another pianist who was wildly underestimated in his time...even during the time he was being lionized. Quirky and radical from the get go Monk was also somewhat paradoxically a traditionalist. He was deeply steeped in the stride piano tradition...something most easily seen in his solo performances. Even his more radical playing with ensembles reveals a musician with an orchestral approach to the piano. His left hand most often does more than comp. He creates counterlines and bass melodies against his right hand runs. Thus orchestral approach is most evident when Monk company under horn players. He is not a spare comper. He most often melodically. In fact sometimes Monks comped lines end up more interesting than the horn soloists he is accompanying, which perhaps explains why he was not a very popular sideman during the bop period.

So Monk and Duke represent some of the best adventurous spirits in jazz piano. Neither could be called free jazz pianists in a classic sense, but in the greater sense of free...the one in which a musician conjure up and sound and has the guts to create it and stick with it.....both were truely free players. And I feel that it is from the confluence of these two figures that much of free jazz piano playing flows....with a little Tristano thrown in for good measure. And I'm finding as I get older the need to refresh myself by listening to these great masters...they always give me something to think about.

The Duke and the Monk Part 1

I'm always amazed when I talk to other free jazz instrumentalists at how tied into the lineage of their instrument they are. The sax lineage is understandable as not only is it revered by sax players but has been so influential on all musicians. But trumpet players in particular impress me the the breath and depth of their understanding of the history of the instrument. Roy Campbell will go on about Clifford Brown and I've had some great talks about Booker Little with Flip Barnes. I have rarely heard similar thoughts from pianists, perhaps because so many of us secretly suspect we are peripheral to the development of free jazz. There's Cecil yes....but I'm not always sure how many people comment on his place in the lineage. After reading some very thought provoking posts at Brilliant Corners about McCoy Tuner and the role of the piano in free jazz its made we want to examine the lineage of my instrum/ent...and to me the foundational stones of free.jazz piano come down to Duke and Monk.

Duke is rarely given his due as a pianist outside of the piano community. This is unfair I think. He had amazing chops even though he rarely put them on display. His unique approach to chord voicing with his band has roots in his advanced harmonic style in his own instrument. Often Duke is looked on as a serviceable stride piano.ist yet one listen to the album Piano Reflections put ls that to shame. Duke's approach to strides is rarely the "dazzle you with speed" style of Hines or Fats. Even when he does take a tune fast there is a sense of ease and effortlessness in his stride playing. But it is in his intros and codas that Duke shines. In these moments of rubato Duke voices chords and runs with advanced harmonies and runs. Often the harmonic palette has as much to do with Debussy or Scsriabin as it does anything else.

Perhaps the most obvious example of this is Dukes well known composition The Clothed Woman. The piece is actually a rather straightforward bluesy stride surrounded by an extensive introduction and coda that features secundal harmony and some very striking dissonances. Many commentators have suggested that the work is atonal, but I think that is untrue of this piece (and untrue of free jazz as a whole but more on that in a later post). Duke uses sophisticated harmonic devices