Jazz music buyer meets very strong algorithms

Over the years, I've purchased a bunch of CD’s on Amazon, including a few box sets and such from Tony Bennett. Right around the time we bought tickets to see Tony Bennett in concert in Nashville this December, Amazon started flashing me with a Tony Bennett Lady Gaga duets album pop-up. It was relentless. They really wanted me to pre-order this record, but, having never listened to Lady Gaga and not being all the enamored of a young woman who never shows her own face and wears meat dresses, I told myself that no matter how much I liked Tony Bennett, his recording with Lady G was one I was going to pass on.

Still the popups came. It didn't matter if I was shopping for books, music, salt shakers, saxophone reeds, cheesecloth, pineapple corers, sheet music, silver polish, a hand ax, Roomba parts, super glue, or protein powder. As sure as I was going to check the box for “checkout”, Tony and Lady were going to bounce up to tell me, “Eric, new for you!” It wasn't new. And frankly, an 88-year old guy with makeup by himself is not disconcerting, and a 28-year old pop star with a curly black wig and makeup is not disturbing, but together, staring at you, calling you by name, it is disconcerting, disturbing, and downright scary. For months, this went on, but as the sale date of the recording approached, Amazon figured they had given it their best shot, and eventually, the popups stopped.

 

Sometimes they just send me an email. You know, maybe I missed the popup or something.

Then came a Wall Street Journal article about the recording, together with an interview with Lady Gaga. It talked about how it came to be that Lady Gaga sings jazz, not only with Tony Bennett, but also that she wants to release at least one solo jazz album every year “forever”. It talked about the odd pairing of the two, how Tony ended up wearing different performance outfits, and how Lady Gaga was able to tap into some previously unheard part of herself, thanks entirely to Tony Bennett’s encouragement. Suddenly, everything made sense. I shared the article with Mrs. S who just asked, “So, are you going to buy the CD?” Of course, the answer was ‘yes’. I pre-ordered the CD. Amazon knew exactly what I wanted before I even knew I wanted it. In fact, they knew I wanted it, before I even really understood what it was. Some would say that is scarier than the faces on the popups. I, however, am oddly relieved to know a company can generate a computer program that knows me and my intentions better than I do. I’m almost happy about it. No, I AM happy about it!

From now on, if I have any question about anything in my life, I think I will just ask Amazon.

Something new for a change

Because of my position as an influential (?) writer about jazz, I occasionally get promotional materials and notices from jazz musicians, agents and music companies asking me to let my readers know about their latest musician, song, band, or whatever. When I first started blogging, I was very accommodating and was generally quite diligent about writing up what they let me know about. For some reason, however, at some point, I got away from doing that with any regularity.

Well, now I’m getting back to it, starting with Marcus Goldhaber.

Photo courtesy of Marcus Goldhaber and Randex Communications

Truth be told, I've had my eye on this guy for about two years now, as he was performing in New York close to when I visited there and I had a bunch of jazz clubs on my radar. I've always liked his voice and he usually has a great set of musicians behind him, sometimes some really big names. Of course, he’s also a composer and the musicality of his original tunes is as good as anybody in jazz right now. But what’s really appealing about Mr. Goldhaber’s latest offering, “A Lovely Way to Spend an Evening”, is that he mixes in five original songs with seven standards that are not performed as often as they should be. The mix is dynamic and gives Mr. Goldhaber ample opportunity to display his chops. Is just as pleasant a listening experience as male vocal jazz gets.

That said, what really puts this recording over the top for me is the backing musicians, and especially, the pianist. (Yes, I’m a pianist, so I’m biased.) Jon Davis (who co-arranged with Mr. Goldhaber) has a light touch on the piano, with a quick turn of phrase or chord voicing to relieve or boost the sentimentality, whichever and whenever needed. Mr. Davis also has a critical role in bringing cohesiveness with two different bassists and drummers. Even so, he’s always able to hint at relaxation without becoming lounge-ified. This is exemplified in the middle tracks of “No Moon At All”, where the piano takes second stage to the bass, but pushes the song right back to a bluesy stroll when he gets his solo, which is then followed by the Irving Berlin classic “Top Hat, White Tie and Tails”, taken at a mellow pace with the piano right out front. I’m in awe of Mr. Davis, but I applaud Mr. Goldhaber for picking him to work on these tracks. It all just works.

The recording comes out on October 14. If you’re looking for some good male vocal jazz that sounds original both in compositions and performance, put  “A Lovely Way to Spend an Evening” on your shopping list. It’s worth the price of admission.

A look at Ralph Ellison looking at jazz

I’m not sure how I could have gotten through an upright American Catholic high school, and then have spent 21 years in seven different schools getting a bachelor’s degree in business and never have read one of America’s greatest writers of the 20th century, Ralph Waldo Ellison. I’m sure some sort of black white thing played into it, but whatever, you can just put him in the pile of things, along with jazz, that took me forty or more years to discover, but aren’t we glad I finally did.

What led me to Ellison was the Ken Burns documentary on jazz, which excerpted some of his essays on the subject of America’s music. No surprise to learn also that Ellison stopped focusing on music to start focusing on writing. That, too, has many parallels, as an ear for language certainly can and often does breed an ear for music, and vice versa.

Ellison wrote A LOT. This 860 page anthology is just a "small" sampling of his work.

Having gotten through the first part of the anthology, where the antiquated word “Negro” appears about seven thousand times in 200 pages, I’m now in the heart of a chunk of essays about music, musicians, singers, and jazz. I’m enjoying it much more than the Negro bits. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve enjoyed everything I’ve read, and I’m learning a lot about black American culture in the 1940’s and 50’s. It’s just tiring to me. (Maybe that’s why they don’t teach it in high school?)

Ellison is a fascinating and incredibly insightful writer, and he has a turn of phrase about him that is unique, as if he developed it and practiced it, just like some technique on a sax or trumpet. Here’s a small sample:

I tell you this to point out that although there were no incentives to write, there was ample opportunity to receive an artistic discipline. Indeed, once one picked up an instrument it was difficult to escape. If you chafed at the many rehearsals of the school band or orchestra and were drawn to the small jazz groups, you were likely to discover that the jazzmen were apt to rehearse far more than the school band; it was only that they seemed to enjoy themselves more, and to possess a freedom of imagination which we were denied at school.

Labor Day is a godsend to me. I shall spend the day playing the piano and reading Ellison. I think those two activities will make me feel pretty good about not working today.

Back to facing the music

 I'm still working on the listening guides in Jazz Styles, a book that (except for the listening guides) I just finished reading recently. I've also added a bunch of interesting chunks of musical history to my collection, that I thought I would brag, er, write about.

I like the early pictures of Duke, because he doesn't show all the weariness of 50 years in the music business that his later pictures do. Just a happy, confident musician.

The top of that heap is the 3 CD set of Early Ellington: The Original Decca Recordings. This is an increasingly rare set that could be had on Amazon and E-bay forever, but almost always at ridiculous prices. So, when I happened to be surfing around and found one for less than $20, I was all over it. I really consider it a cornerstone of my collection, even though I've only had it for a few days. Of course, Mrs. S put it on for me the other night as our dinner background music, and she quickly thanked me when I walked right over to the iPad and put something else on. "I thought you wanted to listen to it," she said. I told her simply, that's music to study while listening to it, not to eat dinner. She said, "Well, thank God." Which is not to say there's anything wrong with the music, just, it's old, and it really takes a lot of focus and energy for a person living in the 21st century to listen to.

A subdued and simple piece of cover art, oddly compelling, that requires a second look, and then a third, just like Haig's music. 

Next is Al Haig's Will-O-The-Wisp, a collection of four ten-inch LP's from the '50's. This can actually be played during dinner to no great detriment, but it too is music I bought to study. I didn't know it, but Al Haig really is the grandfather of post-bop piano (Bud Powell fans: please give me a break on that one), and because of his work with the bop masters, he really laid the groundwork for a lot of the great pianists that were to come, like McCoy Tyner, Bill Evans, Ramsey Lewis, Ahmad Jamal and others. I find Haig's simple statements quite attractive because they are approachable to untalented players of little skill, like myself, making a decent sound not only attainable, but manageable.

How do you take a tax-deductible trip to France: Record your latest CD while you're there!

Then, speaking of Ahmad Jamal and getting some music we could listen to, we picked up the latest by "armadillo", as he's known in our house. ("Ahmad Jamal" in spoken Japanese sounds remarkably like "armadillo".) As I've indicated in my side bar: "It’s scary to think that Ahmad Jamal has been playing jazz piano for something like 20 years longer than I’ve even been alive. Maybe that’s why he sounds as good as he does. His original compositions also have a way of sneaking into your head for long periods of time, which means the best solution is to just put him on the iPad and leave him on." His music is just a joy.

Ah, it feels good to write about music again. I must do more of this in the very near future.

Some jazz reading

Lately, I've been reading a lot about jazz. Today I finished what turned out to be one of the best books about jazz that I've ever read, Jazz Styles: History and Analysis. It looks at the history of jazz through the styles and performers down through the years, which when you get right down to it, really is what has defined jazz. As it gets closer to modern times, things start to get blurry and the lines dividing jazz from other types of music that are called “jazz” start to break down. I suppose that part of it has to do with we are still defining those styles so we don’t quite have a handle on whether it really is part of a category we tend to lump it into in the moment.

Actual scan of my actual copy. Notice the dog eared edges.

The other great thing about this book is it comes with a set of CD’s to illustrate the styles and musicians. They were hard to track down used and they are too expensive to buy new, as is this book, but I still managed to find a set for under $20. And, because the book is a textbook, if you pick up an older edition (like mine, the ninth, two editions older than current), you save a ton of money and sacrifice almost no content. (I mean, seriously, what historic jazz has happened in the last five years? That’s right. Nothing.)

My sole complaint about the book is I found it a little superficial in exploring the musicians’ lives and lifestyles. True that you can illustrate jazz history through jazz styles without getting into where the musicians were born, or what influenced their life outlook to make them as great as they were, or why they died so young, or all that, but personally, I wanted to know a little more. Still, I guess we should applaud the author for knowing what to include and what to leave out. I mean, he managed to write a book about jazz history without using the word “heroin”.

Not sure if I’m going to read Ralph Ellison or another history book next, but the education continues.

Your brain on jazz: a not so sudden realization

I was driving to work the other day and some dumb-ass pulled out in front of me and proceeded to make a right turn about 400 feet up the road, keeping me at about 20 m.p.h. on a 55 speed limit road, all when there was nobody behind me for at least a mile (because that’s how far you can see down this particular road that I drive on every morning). A few years ago, a stunt like that would have made me give you the finger, probably a honk of the horn, and maybe even a flash of the brights. This particular day, I didn't even react, other than to note that I was not reacting to something that would normally have badly pissed me off.

Last year, when we were putting up new blinds and installing hardwood floors throughout the house, I was nervous that things wouldn't turn out well, but I consoled myself with the thought that, if anything didn't work out, we could always buy another solution. Maybe it would be a waste of money, but if it was, so what? It’s just money. So, when one of the new blinds ended up being not quite right, did I storm back to the store and demand a refund? Nope. I just put it up, fixed it as best I could and left it, and will wait for a better solution at some point in the future. It doesn't bother me a bit.

At work, some of the staff have been decorating the office with cheesy pictures, plastic plants and new modular furniture, all in anticipation of the boss’s arrival for a visit this Thursday. In the past, I would rant, make comments, and generally try to undermine their efforts. I would lecture them about how we are running a business, this isn't your house, and quit wasting the company’s money on that junk. Now, I actually helped them hang a bunch of pictures and I assembled their furniture for them. Yes, I made a few comments about my potential bonus being wasted, but nothing biting or acerbic.

As all this has been happening, I stopped and asked myself: What gives? What happened to the driven, obsessive, get-it-right-at-all-costs me that I was so used to? Why am I so calm and why is my short temper now so long (if it exists at all)? In short, what happened to the real me?

I look different, but feel the same.

I think certainly age figures into it. At 50, you begin to see how much closer you are to your mortality as opposed to your nativity. Small things fade away to nothing, big things fade to small things, and life is much easier. But I don’t think that’s all there is to it. I honestly think that listening to jazz and playing the piano with a mind to play jazz music has rewired me. Since taking up jazz seven years ago, I realize that I get excited playing the piano. I’m happy just looking at my baby grand. I’m fascinated by pieces of music I haven’t heard before, or subtleties and nuances in songs I’m well familiar with that I didn't notice before. I don’t just think “cool”, I feel “cool”. Putting on one of my hats makes me look jazzy, and that makes me feel, I don't know. Free, maybe? Music has released me from the tedium of working in a factory and gives me a specific thing to look forward to at the end of each day, whether I’m going to a concert, going to a piano lesson, or just going home to dinner with Wynton Marsalis or Bill Evans playing in the background. Pull out in front of me and slow me down, that’s a few more minutes to explore Milestones or Maiden Voyage. Set me up with some appliance to install or a garage to clean or a bookshelf to build, the iPad and speakers will be Blowin’ the Blues Away, unless I need to Take Five. Decorate the office with some plastic bamboo, and I will forget all about it when I’m looking at the clarinet I’m going to hang on my wall at home. I’m the new Alfred Neuman: What, me worry?

I really believe that jazz has completely changed my brain and the way it works, which in turn has changed my life. If you don’t want to sweat the small stuff, try some Ellington or Basie. Like the guy on that commercial says, “It worked for me!”

At the tender age of 50, my first ever song request played on the radio

 A couple of days ago, I took off work in order to escort Mrs. S to a concert in Nashville. Any day I don’t go to work is a good day, and any day I don’t go to work for a reason related to music is even better. Which is to say, I wasn't excited about driving four hours round trip to hear Il Volo, three young Italian guys sing “Memory” with a Placido Domingo take, but, I was looking to make the best of it and enjoy myself anyway. On the way up to Nashville, we were listening to Real Jazz on Sirius XM, and the DJ Mark Ruffin said he was going to play something from Roy Hargrove. Here’s where my story begins.

Il Volo: European suits, big hair, Italian shoes, and they can sing. What's not to like? Photo © Mrs. S.

When the song came on, the radio displayed “My Shining Hour” and “Roy Hargrove”. The song, however, was Milestones. Even Mrs. S, who is not all that good with the names of jazz songs but who likes “Milestones” looked at the radio with a quizzical look. “That’s Milestones”, I said. She said, yeah, what’s going on? Now, the song that was on the radio was really hot. It had some of the best solos I’d ever heard on Miles’ modal tune, and the piano work was fan-freaking-tastic. I told Mrs. S I had to have it, she agreed, and said it should be easy to find on Amazon or Google.

The next morning, I tried mightily to find a Roy Hargrove version of Milestones, but what I could find was not that song. (By the way, on my way to work, Real Jazz played “My Shining Hour” by John Roney – another coincidence.) I told Mrs. S of my travails, and she tried to work her Internet magic, but in the end, she couldn't find it either. I told her I was going to call Sirius and talk to the DJ and sort it out, because I figured they had made a mistake and would be able to direct me to the recording.

So, I waited until about 20 minutes into Mark Ruffin’s time slot, then gave the request line a ring. A human answered the phone: “Real Jazz”. I was momentarily stunned. “Real Jazz,” he said again. I sputtered something about making a request. He said, “Sure. Watcha wanna hear?” I told him I wasn't sure but it was a song Mark Ruffin had played the day before, it said Roy Hargrove My Shining Hour, but it was Milestones, definitely Milestones, and I really wanted to hear it again, but I also wanted to know who played on the track. “Okay. Hold on.” I waited about twenty seconds and when the guy came back on, he told me what he knew about that track. By this time,  I could tell it actually was Mark Ruffin, as he started to sound like himself and my shock had tapered off. I asked if he was Mark and he said, yeah. And I said, I didn't think you would answer your own phones, and he said, I do everything, man. I said, well thanks for the info, but you know, that song is Milestones. He said, hold on. Came back, said, You know, the record company f***ed up, because, the track says My Shining Hour, but you’re right, it’s Milestones, so yeah, the record company f***ed up. (I love talking with jazz people. We all talk normally, and the same language, literally.) I thanked him for the information and asked that if he could play my request, to play it between 5:30 and 6:00, because that’s when I’d be in the car. I told him I was calling from Madison Alabama, and he said, okay man, thanks, and I said thank you.

So, I’m driving to my piano lesson, and Mark’s playing one Horace Silver song after another. Uh-oh. Something going on, either it’s Horace’s birthday or he died, or something. Sure enough, it gets to seven minutes before Mark goes off and he comes on the air and says, as close as I can remember it, “It’s a sad day today in the jazz world, as the great Horace Silver has passed away. You just heard a few of Horace’s greatest songs, and Les Davis is up at the top of the hour and he’s going to play a lot more of Horace Silver’s music for you, as we've had a number of requests, but before I go, I have one more request that I can’t ignore from a listener in Madison Alabama. I had a great conversation with this guy, and he wanted to hear some Roy Hargrove, so here it is. Swing safely, this Wednesday.” And, he did, in fact, play Milestones by Roy Hargrove, although it was different from the version I was talking about and was just called “Miles”. But still, it was what I asked for.

I don't know the exact song, but something from this album woke us this morning, the day after Mr. Silver's death. 

And this morning, our alarm clock that plays from an iPod with most of our jazz collection loaded on it went off at 5AM on the dot with – wait for it – a song by Horace Silver.

It couldn't be clearer to me: I need to put jazz and music at the center of my life from now on.

And the day we lost Horace Silver, was, indeed, a sad day, even if I did get my request played. Thanks, Mark and thank you, Sirius XM.