Reading an interesting discussion on Nate Chinen's blog, I added this comment:

I want to briefly weigh in with a quote from a recent article on Jazz composition I wrote for Chamber Music America Magazine: " We are arguably in the midst of radical changes, driven not by one defining genius but by many forward-thinking individuals all working at once. What I find interesting these days is not so much how people are soloing- it’s the new materials they’re being fed." The materials that the most interesting composers are using today...the force that motivates the improv...it's changing, growing at pretty great speeds. To me the single overriding factor in discussions about the identity of jazz is this: jazz is a set of practices that can be used in any context with any motivating set of notes and rhythms to work from. Many people today are finding extravagantly diverse building blocks for jazz music. It could be no other way. Those who invented jazz endowed it with qualities that embrqce all serious comers, no matter whether they want to color their sound with Indian music or Rock n' Roll. There are those who believe that jazz is a set of TRADITIONS- well yes, but it's more and many of the least interesting musicians of the year seem bound by tradition. As always the most interesting music turns tradition on its head without at all abandoning it. Joel Harrison

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...