I recently had a startlingly gratifying yet thought provoking discussion about jazz at an unlikely place: a longtime friend’s high school graduation party. One of his family’s close friends is a local rock musician, and quite a talented one at that. He’s not famous, but he’s just one of those guys who can pull out an acoustic guitar and sing a couple songs, bringing anyone in earshot an ample dose of satisfaction in addition to his ability to put on a fun full-blown show.
Naturally, since we were at a graduation party and I am heading off to college soon myself, our discussion turned to my personal plans. When I mentioned that I was planning to pursue a minor in Jazz Studies, Mr. Adams replied, “Holy [crap], you’re a jazzer, you know way too much for me, you’re going to be great.”
This response astounded me. While I find most jazz playing generally more demanding than even some of the more complicated derivative forms of rock, this response---the assumption that I must be a stellar musician simply because I play and study jazz---lead me to think more about what jazz has become and how it relates to other music.
When the jazz movement began to take hold in the 1920s, “hot jazz” most certainly was not seen by critics and highbrow society as a sophisticated genre of music. Americans of the European-music-is-the-only-music-worth-immitating mindset condemned the wild improvisations of Louis Armstrong and the jungle music of Duke Elington as being barbaric. This didn’t last long, though. As big bands such as those lead by Cab Calloway and Ellington began to find major success, jazz slowly grew to become accepted as possibly the first true authentic American music. However, at that point the music was more about swinging like crazy rather than harmonic complexity; soloists played almost soley based on the chords provided by the band behind them, occasionally providing 9th or 13th extensions.
Things began to change when players like Charlie Parker hit the scene and bebop was born. Melodies became more rapid and challenging and with the help of rhythm section masters like Max Roach and Thiloneous Monk, the interplay behind soloists began to require more and more coordination and dexterity. In my opinion, though, jazz hit its point of no return in terms of complexity in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s with the first explorations of modal playing. Sure, jazz musicians have made many steps forward in rhythmic and harmonic complexity since then, but the modal playing exemplified in Miles Davis’s groups and the change-devouring saxophone work of John Coltrane sealed the deal: jazz was destined to become an academic and cerebral art form… That is if you wanted to keep up; plenty of great musicians---Count Basie, Lionel Hampton---didn’t, and still recorded highly entertaining music for years, but they were no longer at the cutting edge.
Before I continue, I’d just like to mention I find that it’s interesting that at around the same time, Rock and Roll---one of the most simple forms of music created in the last several centuries---became a popular form of music. Also interesting, jazz as mainstream music has never really been popular since the swing era, when it was less complicated! Now we have House Music.
Today the average level of musicianship in the jazz world is far above where it was half a century ago. Virtually all professional drummers are fairly versatile with great chops and seemingly perfect time. Trumpeters can blast high notes with almost endless stamina, sax players keep achieving greater things in both the worlds of speed and harmonic sophistication, trombone players get to solo far more regularly (and yes obviously their standard level of technical facility has risen immensely), and piano players… Well modern professional piano players can do pretty much anything, more on that in a bit actually. Is this really surprising, though? Is this a good thing?
Before I answer these questions with my personal views, I feel I must first briefly look back at my discussion with Mr. Addams. With all this jazz history in mind, his reaction should really not surprise me. To be a modern jazz artist, you have a lot to study. If you want to be successful, you have to be great, so Mr. Adams assumed that since I was willing and apparently able to take my jazz studies to the collegiate level, I must at least be decent, and definitely know a lot.
Is this right or fair? I admit I enjoy appreciating music that seems sophisticated and the prestige of being a jazz musician, but at the same time I respect musicians that don’t play jazz and I want them to receive ample recognition as well (I personally started as and still largely am a rock musician).
It’s hard, though, especially amongst those who have participated in or experienced the jazz world to see other types of music as measuring up to the high standards set by jazz. In my opinion, many of the alternative and indie scenes’ D.I.Y. musicians are as interesting and inspirational as my jazz heroes, but they stereotypically don’t study music to the degree that jazzers do, and usually their actual technical abilities are less honed.
An example of indie music that I find inspiring if not simply thought provoking is the math rock duo “Hella.” The drummer, Zach Hill, regularly puts on a clinic in rhythmic insanity: whirlwind chops and a barrage of shifting time signatures. It’s not what one would call sophisticated, at least from a jazz musicians point of view. Zach has never taken a lesson in his life and his bombastic technique has lead him to serious physical injury in the past. I love the pure energy in the music though, and it’s cool that these guys became so original (and virtuosic in their own right) without any academic intervention.
These days, the only music giving jazz any competition in the category of academic nature is classical music, and the classical conservatory has existed far longer than the jazz studies course.
I recently read a fascinating article about the level of increasing virtuosity in classical music and how virtuosos are becoming “a dime a dozen.” The article discussed how concert pianists used to be divided into two basic categories: expressive pianists whose interpretations of pieces focused on emotion more so than flash, and dazzling young pianists with little more than “competition chops.”
Today, according to the article, rising concert pianists almost all both have the ability to accurately execute the most complicated and difficult passages as well as shine on more emotional and mood-based works. In classical/symphonic music, compositions continue to grow in complexity and musicians improve and adapt, causing works once considered challenging to be little more than standard repertory for the devoted student. What does this do to the value of certain pieces and is the ascent to virtuosity in jazz any different?
I would argue that this trend in some ways helps the classical /symphonic music scene more so than the jazz world. Yes, maybe having virtually a 100% chance of seeing compositions performed nearly flawlessly in any major concert hall decreases audiences’ appreciation of the work musicians must do to get to that point---and it certainly decreases their tolerance for mistakes, putting more pressure on musicians than they have ever experienced in the past---but I feel as if this is a sign that more and more classical musicians are reaching one of the genres goals: recitations of composers’ pieces as they were written and in a way that would make the composer proud for having written the piece.
In modern jazz, I feel that, barring groups such as the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra, who maintain traditional values and still put time into jazz suites, the focus of the music is on the individual and his/her own technical abilities, usually awestriking as a professional standard, rather than the value of the specific compositions. A lot of it, probably most of it, is really cool. Musicians are doing things their predecessors decades ago most likely never dreamed about. But there is something about the old jazz that still appeals to me, and I can’t find it so often in the modern music. Sometimes I feel that jazz used to be more authentic; players completely hammering out a new craft; the shift from the stomping 2 to the swinging 4; and the first thrilling unstructured solos ever taken. Today is any sax player as chill as Lester Young? Can any trumpeter truly match the raw swingingness of Roy Eldridge? Or will anyone ever drive a combo like Art Blakey did? Technically many musicians have passed these old giants up, but that their approaches were so original is something that should always be respected. Now we base everything we do somewhat off of what they did, every young jazz musician must study them alongside with the contemporary output.
Overall, it is safe to say that as a jazz musician you are also a scholar. You must scrutinize developments in rhythm, harmony and theory to learn what is possible, but also be a historian and draw on all the great material produced in the past. Jazz is a music of individual voices and to develop your own (a process of a lifetime), you must take influences from a diverse range of other voices/styles.
On that note, I’m going to put on some Roy Hargrove quintet for a great mix of modern and traditional jazz. This was a fun first blog post to write, stay tuned for more.
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