One of my latest, greatest helpers

As a jazz musician whose talents only take him so far, and as readers of this blog will know, I’m constantly reading and thinking about jazz to help my musicianship along. Last year I read Ted GIoia’s The History of Jazz and while I was more than impressed by his look into the history of America’s music, I was particularly taken by the extensive discography to which he made continual reference. After all, if you are going to understand music, even if it is only from a historical perspective, sooner or later you are going to have to listen to it for yourself.

 

Read for yourself, then listen (or play) for yourself.

That’s what makes this book, Mr. Gioia’s latest work (I think), one of his best to date: it’s extensive discography. And because this is all about a solid core of jazz standards, the information is something that any jazz musician will be able to use at some point. Every song has between five and ten recordings listed for listening and research into the nuances and hidden meanings of the songs, not to mention alternative interpretations and styles. It not only reads like a jazz musician’s hall of fame, it reads like a biological listing of family, genus, and species of the recordings for understanding the very evolution of the song. Even better, the book is indexed by song, composer and performer, so however you decide to come at a song, the author has provided you the resources you need to choose your own angle of approach.

After finishing this book, something that occurred to me is that I should have been taking some notes. At some point, I sort of noticed that the index would help me cross reference recordings and performers, but I really should have been making a list of stuff to look for and recordings to Google or buy. Now, if I’m going to get serious about a song or recording, I’m going to have to go back and research it. There are worse things, I suppose, but I could have used my time more efficiently.

I guess I’ll just have to read this book again, and I guess that will happen sooner, rather than making me even later to jazz.

How to swing Christmas

Add one freaking awesome singing group, one pair of front row tickets, and a two hour drive through a rainstorm (which was bad, but not quite the tornado level storm we drove through to see WyntonMarsalis and the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra). Then sit back and enjoy the show.

The somewhat dated (I thought) Manhattan Grinches on screen behind stage.

Manhattan Transfer has been doing this kind of show for years, but this is the first time I had the opportunity to see and hear it for myself. Despite the recent death of the group’s leader, they had a phenomenal back up who they've been singing with for years in different iterations of this group, and the harmonies were as tight as ever and the one hour forty five minute show just flew by. They sang all the Christmas standards you could want, from Mel Torme’s “The Christmas Song” to “Frosty the Snowman”. Plus they sang a bunch of their hits and a few New York themed Christmas things (which admittedly, fell dead on the Nashville crowd for the most part).

The set. They didn't even have a band, just what I would call a rhythm section. They were amazing.

Their musical director, Yaron Gershovsky, was pretty much the highlight of the show for me. Playing on a Steinway grand (a smallish one) and an occasional riff on a Korg, Kronos synth, he drove the rhythm section and could pretty much play any style and stylistic solo he had to.

No, we did not take surreptitious pictures during the show. But this is pretty much exactly what they looked like, except Janis was wearing her contacts.

I guess after all is said and done, Janis Siegel is still my favorite. Her solo bits were edgier and more complete than her band mates’, and she at least put on makeup and had her hair done before the show. (Cheryl Bentyne looked like somebody woke her up from a nap just in time for the show.) Anyway, it was a good time, and definitely worth the drive through the pouring rain to hear this legendary group while they are still together and performing.

This was Janis at the Blue Note, again highlighting a Christmas show, when we were in New York three years ago.

Next up is Tony Bennett, which Mrs S this morning informed me will be a two hour (or so) show with an intermission and Tony only singing during the second half of the show. She thought I would be disappointed, but it is pretty much what I expected. The guy’s 88, so if he gives us a good half hour and four or five of his hits, that will work for me.

As close to being on stage at the Schermerhorn as I am likely to get.

Damn, I just realized: I could have put something in the seats next to mine and played some kind of joke on whoever sits there Thursday night. Maybe. Oh well. Better to be inconspicuous down front anyway.

Why you shouldn't suck in your musical performance: the audience matters

Recently, one of my Facebook friends, who also happens to be a childhood schoolmate and accomplished musician, commented on Facebook lamenting how hard it was for him to find a band to join. This came hard on the heels of him having to give up forming his own band, due to what I’ll call “lack of interest in being dedicated” from the musicians he recruited. The gist of Nooj’s comment was, making music or anything with artistic value requires a certain level of commitment, and it’s hard to find people who want to make that commitment. Then a mutual Facebook friend, Pat, who is an accomplished musician himself and also a childhood schoolmate of Nooj and I, chimed in against musicians who dismiss bad performances in favor of “just having fun”. Pat and Nooj’s argument is, on the face of it, quite simple: There’s nothing fun about sucking and the value of music (the TRUE value) lies in the commitment that leads to a good performance. (And I’ll go so far as to say, the definition of a good performance is, a performance the audience appreciates.)

A rendering of the St. Mel's church, where Nooj, Pat, and I spent many hours while growing up.

I couldn't agree more, and I wanted to add my two cents, but Facebook isn’t my favorite forum in the whole world for making cohesive arguments. So I dragged the topic here, to my blog. Here’s what I've found in my (extremely limited) jazz performance experience. (Keep in mind, this is all from playing in big bands and ensembles at a local university, where 90% of every band I was in was about half my age. It’s an important aspect of the argument I’m about to make.)

I hate making mistakes in a performance. Hate them. That’s why musicians practice: to avoid mistakes. The jazz idiom, however, is all about creating something on the spot. It’s not going to be right 100% of the time. It’s not supposed to be. Miles Davis said, “There are no wrong notes.” In fact, there are plenty of wrong notes. It’s easy enough to send your audience home by playing wrong notes. But in jazz, you shouldn't be surprised if after sending one audience home, another audience stumbles in to hear you play. That’s one thing.

The other is, as an older musician with more worldly experience but often less musical experience and talent than my younger peers in the band, I bring a unique perspective to my performance. I don’t get embarrassed if I make a mistake. I’m not happy about it, but I just keep playing. Most of the audience doesn't notice anyway. Younger musicians sometimes tend to try too hard. Mistakes fluster them, and I've actually seen bad performances stop good musicians entirely, “forcing” them to quit and blaming their study workload as they put down their instrument. I tried to impart to these musicians that we are up there, in front of people, doing something that the majority can’t do, and we ought to enjoy the experience, regardless of the type of performance we put out on any given day. Ultimately, the audience is what makes the musical experience what it is. There is nothing like performing in front of living, breathing people. And in an age when you can download videos and music at a moment’s notice on a whim, the live experience becomes ever more valuable and important. My friend Pat asked, “What’s fun about sucking?” Well, of course the answer is, “Nothing much.” My problem is, I’m just not very good. Nobody’s ever going to pay significant money to hear me play anything, anywhere. Just the same, I’m committed to making music. I know I suck, but, I try to always have fun, even when I’m by myself. (Maybe that’s why I don’t get any better.) Do I enjoy good performances better than bad ones? You bet I do. But I recognize that not every performance is going to be my best, but I can still (sorry Pat) have fun. I have to, because like I said, I pretty much suck all the time.

So basically, what I’m trying to say is, commitment is necessary, talent and ability, maybe not so much. What’s probably the most frustrating is somebody with talent and ability who doesn't make the most of it, especially for middle of the road musicians like me who are counting on them to cover for me a little, and especially when the talented musician is 19 years old and doesn't understand or appreciate what he’s missing if he or she gives up music for the wrong reason. If you are committed to making the musical experience of you, your band, and the audience the best it can be, bad notes are forgivable and you can mistakes all day long. I’m still going to ask you why you didn't practice a little longer the week before the gig, but we’ll all be better off for the experience than if we’d passed on it altogether.

And if Pat and Nooj ever want to play some jazz (Pat is punk/grunge, Nooj is rock) with me, I’ll hold up my end if they just don’t ask too much. I know we’d have fun, no matter what.

Yep. No way that was going to be a Facebook comment.