Youssou N' Dour and musical meaning

Last night I saw Youssou N'Dour at BAM. It was one of the most emotional musical experiences of my life. It made me feel awe (again) at the undeniable, sublime power of music. His voice, and the phenomenal band he uses, penetrated me to the core. It got me thinking...

Some people are born masters- they have a gift which seems to come from beyond normal imagining. All the hard work and devotion in the world will never make a mere mortal into a Youssou N'Dour. His voice is the voice of all that is- pure, intense, shocking, completely unnerving, raw energy, immense beauty, destroying all defenses. Why and how are some people given the gift? What are we mortals to do, once we know that we cannot ever attain this native ability? We work, and learn to love our work, because of or despite this knowledge, spurred on by those farther up the mountain. 

More to the point- the musicians in my milieu often speak in abstractions, in metaphor, in irony, indirectly. These things are part and parcel with our "post-modern" culture, the death of our religion, the  emptiness of certain aspects of our culture. But a universal truth is that music can rise above all that is banal, distracting, disenfranchising. Isn't the point of music to bypass all defenses and deliver a direct blow to the heart? Youssou is completely one with his intent. One note and he can do this. (His religion is a big part of it). What is MY intent? What is the intent of  modern jazz? I'm not sure there is one easily defined (though there may be many). Very little  music at all blasts inside you like a dagger, with the clarity that N'Dour's brings. Many of us are searching, and may ALWAYS be, for that direct hit, beyond ideas, beyond our defense mechanisms, our fear, our need to couch what we are saying with a wink or a snigger. Many of us may believe in something and yet never come close to being able to convey it with the clarity with which N'Dour speaks of his family and griot history. 

It's not easy: the struggle towards sublime beauty goes on. And that's what so odd. It IS a struggle, and yet its attainment gives one the feeling of perfect ease.

To me there is only one reason to make music: listen to Youssou N'Dour (live) and you get it. It's got nothing to do with the harmony or  rhythm you choose, your religion or race. Rather it has to do with the context you place yourself in, and your ability to allow the listener to experience  mystery, meaning, and the unfathomable treasure of simply being a human being.

Jaco

I spent a couple of hours searching for jaco pastorius clips on youtube this morning

I remembered...

the feeling when as a 17 year old his solo cd came out, and my musician friends and I sat dumbfounded listening to Donna Lee- it was a once in a lifetime moment- and then I saw him with Weather Report in 1976. The sight and sound of him playing Purple Haze still resonates.  He is to the electric bass what Hendrix was to the electric guitar.

Not coincidentally, he almost always quoted Hendrix in his solos. I had almost forgotten (how shall I say it) how "gorgeous" his rock star look was, and, like Jimi,  how dangerous his playing was. And like all my favorite musicians, no matter what he did, it sounded beautiful. No matter how loud, funky, over the top, it remained lyrical and aspirational.

I decided to name a violin/ cello duo I am composing

"Jaco Pastorius Ascends to Heaven"

I suppose the title is both slightly comical and deadly serious- which is maybe what it felt like to try to play electric bass AFTER him. 

More importantly- what heart the guy had...each of his notes consumes you.

Encores and random thoughts

Can someone tell me why jazz  bands always get asked to do an encore in Europe but rarely in the US. It really is a good feeling (even if they are pretending in Europe, which I trust they are not)

Nels Cline's new solo cd lays down the gauntlet. Any solo record is a devilish endeavor. Really hard to do. But he's inspired me...someday, in the not too distant future (before 2012 I swear)

I saw an American Masters PBS special on Philip Glass- he said a wonderful thing. Something to the effect of bringing together the worlds of Ravi Shankar and Nadia Boulanger in 1967, an idea so radical that he could be (in his words) "accused of being a complete idiot." And then he laughed and said, "well, I AM an idiot."

In the context of a serious, loving portrait of his music it was hilarious. I realized a little more deeply just how radical that idea was in 1967. And I enjoyed the humility in his recounting of the moment...

1960 Fender Telecaster

This is one of the most magnificent guitars ever made. The bridge pick up is warm and full enough for any kind of jazz, while the neck pick up screams bloody murder when you step on it. It is tremendously beat up, looking like it was left in a barn for 12 years. I had Flip Scipio refret it. This Telly is simple, direct, subtle if need be yet warlike too. I have used it on bar gigs for Blues and Country for which it has no parallel. I also did some slide work on Passing Train, trying to give it a pedal steel sound. I've used it for solo jazz pieces. What I can't really do on it is play with the type of facility that I have on a Gibson. The shape of the neck, and the scale make it a little harder for me to get around, so it is left at home for a lot of hard core jazz gigs. I grew up in Washington D.C. with Danny Gatton as a huge influence. Everytime I pick up my Telly I think of him.

First Blog!

Hi

This is my first blog! My first issue is this- I welcome anybody’s success stories vis a vis their usage of blogs, facebook, myspace, etc. I am told, by wise people, that these platforms, and all the time they take away from other pursuits, will help my career. While I am sure that some have found these virtual community-builders useful, I personally find them a little ridiculous, so far. I know what actual community feels like, and it is physical, having nothing to do with staring at a screen. The possible exception is myspace, where people can at least listen to my music, which is a good thing.
Folks, tell me your stories. Is Facebook, or Linked In, or Pulse Plaxo, or whatever bringing you work, sales, useful connections? Or is mostly a waste of time?

Onto other matters: I saw Bob Dylan in Prospect Park Brooklyn last month. I am a huge Dylan fan, and in general I am willing to forgive the occasional faults from someone who has given the music world so much. But this concert was unforgivably mediocre. The man’s voice is utterly shot. He has no range, and I mean NO range. He croaks, barely suggesting the melodies. The deep, creaky expressiveness on, say, Time Out of Mind, is gone. It was difficult to confront a man ruining his best work, like a great painter heaping a bucket of Benjamin White on his masterpiece. The guitarists, one in particular, were shockingly lame. Bad tone, bad phrasing, almost laughable. I’ve met 17 year olds who could have done better. How on earth is it possible that the great BOB DYLAN could not even realize he is playing with a hack? It mystifies me. Bob Dylan can’t even take the time to find a guitarist who doesn’t wreck his material! What’s the world come to?
Of course the sound was bad- and I should know by now that I am too old and mean to go to an outdoor show. I could barely hear the fine pedal steel/ banjo/ fiddle player.
There was one positive aspect to the show, and that’s the rhythm section. On the better tunes, “Like a Rolling Stone”, “Everybody Must Get Stoned”, they played with passion and authority. Unfortunately too many tunes came from the mediocre cd Modern Times (it's anything but modern) This cd is the type of thing that makes Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf’s spirits shriek. Bad 12 bar blues tunes played with no distinction, too many rambling words, not a single good solo, making one ache to hear the real source of Dylan’s troubled tributes. Hootchie Cootchie man, anyone?

Some years ago I attended a particularly off-putting concert by the great Ornette Coleman. I ran into dear, sweet, recently deceased Andrew Hill on the way out and began talking with him. I asked him what he thought of the show. He replied, rather delicately, that it had caused him to contemplate a question that felt very pertinent and personal- “When do you stop?” When does a great artist say, “I have done enough and I am no longer serving the music?” Clearly Andrew had considered this for himself. Of course he ended up doing some of his finest work at the end of his life.

No one has the right to suggest that any artist should give up, stop touring or playing. But what an ardent fan and intelligent listener can ask for is that the artist continue to exercise self-judgement. As we age can we still hear with the alacrity, professionalism, wisdom and zeal of our younger years? It is imperative that we never lose the capacity for self-reflection. Ironically this may be easier to do when you’ve never had success, as fame seems only to weaken the great. I have to say that in recent times I have heard Ornette play some of the most amazing saxophone playing of all time. So as self-appointed critic, I have to make sure not to judge anyone on one or two concerts.

By the way, if you want to check out my own attempts to try new things, please see my somewhat new song collection at www.passingtrain.com.