Tag Archives: Peter Hum

Jason Marsalis redux

(more thoughts on jazz nerds, nerdy jazz, and jazz history)

by Peter Hum
Ottawa Citizen
June 15, 2010

On the Los Angeles Times‘ music blog, writer Chris Barton yesterday shared a lengthy message he received from drummer Jason Marsalis, who was keen to move forward in the discussion he sparked with his now-infamous and entertaining Jazz Nerds International rant.

If the whole Jazz Wars topic interests you, I’d advise you to read all that Marsalis wrote — it is strong and opinionated, but more nuanced, thoughtful and stimulating than his detractors might expect. I’ll limit myself to excerpting two passages, and in each case I’ll offer a bit of support for what Marsalis wrote.

First, Marsalis clarifies what he means by jazz nerds in this passage (which I’ve adorned with some bolding for emphasis):

Let’s define a jazz nerd. A jazz nerd, or JNA for short, is a jazz student who reduces all music to notes and concepts only. JNA worships complexity while ridiculing simplicity. JNA will hear groups lead by Dave Holland and Wayne Shorter and will marvel at the complex musical structure but ignore the historical substance behind their music. JNA saxophonists will listen to and worship the music of Mark Turner, Chris Potter, Michael Brecker, and other modern players but ignore the musicians that have influenced their music such as John Coltrane, Dexter Gordon, Warne Marsh, and Sonny Rollins. JNA will hear the music of James Brown and say that it’s no big deal because it only has two chords. JNA looks down on blues as “simple” while wanting to play endless non-melodic eighth and sixteenth notes over All the Things You Are in 7/4 straight feel. By the way, a slow blues is boring. Better yet, swing is actually uninteresting and straight feel is actually more “challenging” and “exciting.” Instead of embracing both, the JNA worships one while ridiculing the other. Speaking of that, 4/4 is “old” while 9/8, on the other hand, is “new.” A basic drum groove is boring unless you fill it with lots of notes. To the JNA, that’s modern music. So to recapitulate, JNA reduces music to as many complex notes as possible while ignoring the simple elements and history behind the notes.

The bolded parts of Marsalis’ essay are consistent with comments I’ve heard from other seasoned jazz musicians, including ones who don’t fall into the neo-conservative camp that many would place Marsalis in.

For example, Canadian saxophonist Jane Bunnett has commented on the historical short-sightedness of jazz students she had encountered. She told me that today’s students “don’t know the history of the music. They know Brad Mehldau, but they don’t know Teddy Wilson. They know Joshua Redman, but they don’t know Dewey Redman.”

Almost identically, Fred Hersch in an interview last week told me that every young pianist he knew wanted to sound like Mehldau, but was not interested in delving deeper into roots of jazz piano, learning about musicians such as Teddy Wilson or Jess Stacy. Hersch said that younger players don’t need to sound like the old giants, but they do need to “internalize” their playing, understand why they played what they did, why they thought they way they thought, and so on.

I’ve had one Canadian jazz educator express similar thoughts in a recent conversation with me. He says he has noticed that especially in the last few years, jazz students are increasingly disinterested in older jazz, which he suggested meant jazz before 1970.

And then there’s my most recent encounter with jazz ignorance. It’s not quite the same thing, in that the musicians were not complexity-loving, straight-8th playing, odd-meter worshipping jazz nerds. However, these young musicians, who are in fact reasonably accomplished, played Invitation at a jam session and because their knowledge of the tune was based on how it appears in The Real Book, they got the form wrong over and over, neglecting to take the book’s so-called coda with every chorus. For their edification, here is Invitation, played correctly.

When Marsalis refers to “nerdy” music that is complex and does not acknowledge the appeal of simplicity and the grounding principles of traditional jazz, I’m reminded of what pianist Frank Kimbrough told me, namely:

One thing I’ve noticed in recent years is music that sounds like it’s conceived and composed with computers, and I’m usually not very fond of it. Much of it is overly clever, and requires musicians to be tied to the paper, which is anathema to me. I want to hear cats listen to each other, not struggle to play a part and not get lost, playing in their own little world, too busy trying to read to listen to anything going on around them. The upside to it is that there are some ridiculously good musicians out here, many of them quite young, who are able to play anything that’s put in from of them, even if they can’t look up from their music stands. But do they listen? If so, great; if not, it doesn’t matter how “good” they are.

Similarly, Hersch last week expressed his disdain for music that he arose when “hip cats are playing hip shit for hip cats.” By that, I think he meant music students playing what Marsalis would regard as jazz-nerd music for music students. I’ve also read a DownBeat article in which Kurt Rosenwinkel, the hero of many a jazz-guitar nerd, make similar statements about what he called “insider jazz.”

How does one get beyond whether the music on the page is nerdy or not? Consider what drummer Matt Wilson told me last year:

My stuff is not too hard… I’m proud of it, actually, they’re easy. I like ‘em easy so that I can see what people can do with them. I’m big into how people can look at something and go with it. And go from there.

Sometimes I’ve played some music that’s more difficult and I find it really satisfying and more challenging…

As long as the music doesn’t get in the way of the musicians, I think it’s pretty cool. But when the music inspires the musicians and gets stuff out of them, it’s really great. That’s what all the good writers and arrangers, all those conceptualists do. They know how to usher people  into an environment and allow them to play with it and see what can occur. I dig that part of it.

Further to his reflections about the lack of interest in jazz history, Marsalis coined another phrase — one that may not be as catchy as “Jazz Nerds International,” but which resonates with me. That phrase is “innovation propaganda,” and Marsalis explains:

if you don’t study the history of jazz, or music for that matter, the good news is that you have an out clause. Jazz magazines and writers created this flavour of Kool-Aid named “innovation,” and when a musician drinks “innovation kool-aid,” you believe the following principles:

1. Jazz has to move forward into the future.
2. We can’t get stuck in the past with hero worship.
3. Swing is old and dated. We have to use the music of today.
4. Jazz is limiting. You must take a chance by bringing in current styles.
5. I don’t care about the past. I have to do my own thing.
6. We’re past playing American songbook standards. That’s yesterday’s music.

To be very brief: I agree with 1 and 2 and the last half of 5, but disagree with 3,4, the first half of 5 and 6. But a few months ago, I wrote this very long post in which I argued that innovation in itself is not the alpha and omega of jazz, and that self-expression and a commitment to beauty on one’s own terms are at least as important for good jazz.

In a related post, I’ve argued that in jazz, personal authenticity matters more than cultural relevance.

The last words (for now) go to two Canadian musicians who gave the Marsalis missive a read and commented on my Facebook page:

Manitoba pianist Michelle Gregoire wrote me:

“OK I read it – I’ve been trying to figure out why the older I get, the more I feel drawn to the earliest pianists and I can just never get enough of the Blues. I find more and more in it, and I can’t get enough…. My music needs to say something, and I think at this age I know what my voice is, and I want it to speak. I’m not worried about the kids too much, cause to me they are just getting some tools together. As they hopefully continue to grow and develop as people, I think their sense of musicality could grow as well. Jason is about the same age as me, so his point of view is certainly interesting. I totally agree — inclusiveness is the trick. Because the more tools the kids have, the more they’ll have to find their voices…each person is a total and unique individual, and not everyone will fit into the boxes people like to create….everyone has the right to find themselves in some way and have the same experience all the greats had when they truly did their thing.

Ottawa-raised, Montreal-based guitarist Steve Raegele, whose beyond-jazz CD, Last Century, I reviewed, wrote:

I think this only matters if you worry about whether people think your music IS jazz. Beyond the pragmatism of playing with musicians with training (which for me means people who at one point played “jazzy jazzer jazz”) I have no need for the jazz litmus test. I can’t really get into his concerns. It’s more of a marketing issue.

Music is has the potential for infinite variation. Worrying about whether it carries the proper number of signifiers of an increasingly vast checklist of past musics is just as ridiculous as asserting that your music need not have any signifiers at all. Music can do whatever the hell it wants. Artists can blend however much or little of the past they choose to. Whether anyone cares to listen is another question, but if the only concern is pleasing people, I think it’s pretty clear what to do. What does one do, however, when this attempt to curry favour with a fickle public falls flat?

Spot the Jazz Nerds — and show them some respect

by Peter Hum
Ottawa Citizen
May 20, 2010

Earlier this month, I featured this provocation from drummer Jason Marsalis.

… which prompted responses from several jazz musician/bloggers I know. Some agreed with Marsalis. Others repudiated his “false dichotomy.” I took a break then from wading yet again into the jazz-wars debate, but figure now I might as well step back into those murky waters again, even if I generally feel there are much more important matters for jazz-oriented people of all stripes to invest their energy in.

I’ll summarize Marsalis’ argument. He sketches, quite humourously, a division between the constituents of “Jazz Nerds International” and other jazz musicians who belong to an unnamed faction.  Maybe Marsalis would simply call them the “good guys” in this battle. JNI consists, he says, of young musicians in their teens and in college who eschew playing jazz standards and don’t love swinging. Instead, they play compositions with a straight feel, often in odd meters, with “boring, chromatic solos and a million notes an hour.” They play for fellow JNI musicians rather than for non-musician listeners, who can come to doubt their tastes. Marsalis recommends that listeners “run away” from JNI music and keep the faith with music that has “melodies you can sing along to.”

Before offering my two cents, I’ll suggest that you read:

Montreal organist Vanessa Rodrigues’ response, in which she agrees “99-per-cent” with Marsalis.

Montreal-based clarinetist James Danderfer’s response, in which he agrees that “institutionalized jazz music hasn’t placed nearly enough emphasis on the core element of expressing emotion to audiences”  But Danderfer continues: “On the other hand, it’s music dude! People should be allowed to do whatever the hell they want to! If some guy wants to play jazz music for himself (possibly in 5/4 too) then let him. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Meanwhile, on the blog of Montreal pianist Joshua Rager, saxophonist Becky Noble commented:

What bothers me about the so called “jazz wars” (popping up online all over the places these days!) is the idea that there are two camps; the purists and modernists. I think the reality is that most people actually fall somewhere in between on the spectrum. To be quite honest, I just don’t buy the idea that a significant percentage (at least significant enough to be ranting about) of young musicians are shunning the history, abandoning melody, refusing the learn the standards, playing 30-minute solos void of meaning. Please, tell me where these people are???!!! Because in my experience studying and playing, I don’t think I’ve met one.

In my opinion some of the more successful “jazz” musicians today have been able to meld the art form’s history with modern influences, to create their own unique voice. I mean, that’s what Bird did. Miles. Coltrane. Bill Evans. All of them. Let me cite five contemporary examples, off the top of my head: Brad Mehldau, Kurt Rosenwinkel, Dave Douglas, Brian Blade, Seamus Blake. All are “hip”. You can clearly hear the entire history of their respective instruments when they play. They can swing like crazy, they aren’t afraid to play a blues or in 4/4, and they also play chromatically and often in odd meters. They play standards and they also compose beautiful music. The don’t sound like anyone else, and they just happen to be some of my favourite musicians.

I agree with SOME of the “essence” of what Marsalis is saying, but I think what I don’t like, and what bothers me, is the way he says it. It just seems so negative and extremist; painting a highly complex picture much too black and white. It reeks of intolerance to my ears.

I agree wholeheartedly with Noble. (And yes, I agree with her in agreeing with Marsalis, insofar as I hope that standards and swinging will never be forsaken by contemporary and future jazz players, even as I assert that jazz is flexible and pliable enough to grow with the inclusion of other musical aspects and influences.)

To reiterate a question that Noble rightly asks: Who are the jazz nerds that Marsalis so vehemently opposes? I don’t think it’s good enough for Marsalis to say — if he’s serious — that it’s simply the students in jazz schools who are woefully misguided. Surely these students are influenced by any number of established musicians who work (prominently, but not exclusively) in the odd-time, straight-eighths, chromatic nerd zone. It’s reasonable to assume that Marsalis is not denigrating the students, but also their influences too. Would today’s Jazz Nerd elders include:

Saxophonists Dave Binney and Mark Turner?

Drummer John Hollenbeck and his Claudia Quintet?

Saxophonist Rudresh Mahanthappa, in a group playing a pieces that “built on two measures of 5 followed by a measure of 9, and this is then gradually speeded up through metric modulation, using the 8th note triplet as a subdivision”? (The only reason I know this bit of nerdy esoterica is that bassist Ronan Guilfoyle provided it in this post that will fascinate rhythm nerds.)

Saxophonist Steve Coleman? (He seems like the nerdiest of the batch, but in a likeable way,

Frankly, I think if Marsalis would do better to name the alleged ringleaders of Jazz Nerds International rather than simply besmirch its rank and file — not because I would be keen on any resulting controversy, but because if he wants to be taken seriously, then he ought to move beyond a straw-man opponent. Or he should argue that his beef with mediocre students rather than the proficient pros.

I also think that the impulse that Marsalis is railing against — the move beyond standard repertoire and swinging  — is some years older than he is, and that this historical context ought to be kept in mind. Think of bebop nerdily extending the language of swing, Miles Davis and Bill Evans investigating the use of modes in jazz more than 50 years ago, John Coltrane investigating tone rows with Miles Mode in 1962, and for that matter, performing the kind of epic, set-long songs that Marsalis slams. These are just a few classic examples of music history’s jazz nerds in action. In other words, there were jazz nerds long before Marsalis was drumming, and there will be jazz nerds ever after, in spite of what he said.

I have to wonder if Marsalis in the clip isn’t just exaggerating for the sheer, blustering fun of it. He’s criticizing the worth and validity of a great swath of music, and I’d prefer to think he’s being deliberately outrageous rather than monumentally arrogant. (Note: to be fair, there are many anti-Marsalis, anti-tradition folks who have struck me as equally blunt and heavy-handed in their statements.)

Stepping back, I side with Marsalis in affirming the value of playing music that revels in swinging, and in playing jazz standards with a whole-hearted embrace of their tradition. I also agree with Marsalis that jazz, however it sounds, ought to be played to connect with and move listeners (optimally, through a feeling of personal commitment, not through pandering manoeuvres). But these affirmations can be made without a simultaneous takedown against music that may not sound like the music that Marsalis makes, but may even appeal to jazz fans who don’t feel the artificial need to choose sides.

Jazz war, anyone? Jason Marsalis vs. ‘Jazz Nerds International’

by Chris Barton
Los Angeles Times
May 21, 2010

Jason Marsalis in the Los Angeles TimesHave you, as a listener, been suffering under the influence of Jazz Nerds International?

Jazz critic and blogger for the Ottawa Citizen Peter Hum wrote a terrific post Thursday on the latest installment in what’s become known as “the jazz wars,” a long-running culture clash pitting the music’s traditionalists — personified by nearly any member of the gifted Marsalis family — versus what could be considered jazz’s new guard.

A little background: This new guard encompasses some of the most acclaimed, adventurous artists in jazz today — Christian Scott, the Bad Plus, Vijay Iyer and the Claudia Quintet, just to name a few who have been featured in this space — as well as anyone who followed in the footsteps of late-period John Coltrane and “Bitches Brew”-era Miles Davis. A hardcore traditionalist would argue that these musicians, though talented, may be playing interesting music but it’s certainly not jazz.

Recently examined in the documentary “Icons Among Us,” there’s a lot of remarkable stuff going on in modern jazz that incorporates influences from across the musical spectrum, stretching into odd time signatures and generally treating jazz as the boundlessly creative, free-thinking genre it is.

While on the opposite side, the traditionalists argue that truest form of jazz involves all-acoustic instruments, a swinging rhythm section and, if possible, some really sharp suits.

In the video posted on Hum’s blog (and after the jump), drummer Jason Marsalis offers an amusing warning against “Jazz Nerds International,” his term for young musicians who have a “selfish” view of jazz, eschewing the standards of the genre in favor of “abstract solos” and odd-metered straight rhythms. The end result, in Marsalis’ view, is music that alienates its audience and exists only for the appreciation of fellow musicians.

The jazz blogosphere reacted with a number of eloquent responses, and while I agree with Hum that Marsalis is being intentionally over-the-top for a mock-PSA tone, his point speaks to an ongoing problem. If jazz is not being declared dead, it’s being monitored by an aesthetic police force that builds walls around the genre, fending off rogue elements from violating its purity.

In the end, the war is ultimately pointless because there’s room for both sides. Of course the roots of jazz are vital and demand attention from anyone who would play or listen to it. It’s hard to imagine many of the gifted if cutting-edge artists in jazz being any less appreciative of past masters than, say, upstart indie rock artists who learn from and expand upon decades-old records in their collection
But to argue that all musicians who plug in, play a song in 7/8 or dive into a paint-peeling solo for as long as their muse carries them aren’t part of the tradition does the music a disservice. Like all broad, nebulous genre labels, the boundaries are in the eye of the beholder.

Is an interview with the forward-looking jazz blog NextBop, Esperanza Spalding summed up this expansive view of jazz wonderfully. “We need all the aspects of it [jazz] and that’s OK,” she said. “We need the Wynton Marsalis and we need the Anthony Braxton and we need a Chris Botti and we need Christian Scott….  Jazz can be anything but maybe the only element that’s there across the board is that people are creating it in the moment.”

Do you agree? Or is jazz done a disservice by a big-tent approach?

Yet Another Marsalisian Gift to Jazz Bloggers Everywhere

(That Family Just Gives and Gives and Gives …)

by Chris Kelsey
May 20, 2010

Philip Roth’s novel I Mar­ried a Com­mu­nist is the tale of Ira Ringold, a left-wing radio per­son­al­ity active dur­ing the HUAC/McCarthy inqui­si­tion of the late ‘40s/early 1950s, and his pro­tégé Nathan Zuck­er­man, a teenage writer aspir­ing to career as a radio drama­tist along the lines of such esteemed politically-progressive writer/producers as Nor­man Cor­win and Nor­man Cor­win. Roth’s mas­ter­ful por­trait of the trou­bled Ringold is at the book’s cen­ter, yet just as com­pelling is his account of Nathan’s growth, as he rec­og­nizes and even­tu­ally chafes under the lim­i­ta­tions that come from using one’s art pri­mar­ily as a polit­i­cal tool.

“Who taught you art is slo­gans?” asks Leo Glucks­man, the col­lege instruc­tor who incites Nathan’s shift. “Who taught you art is in the ser­vice of ‘the peo­ple?’ Art is in the ser­vice of art?—?oth­er­wise there is no art wor­thy of anyone’s attention.”

“What is the motive for writ­ing seri­ous lit­er­a­ture, Mr. Zuck­er­man?” Glucks­man con­tin­ues, before answer­ing him­self: “The motive for writ­ing seri­ous lit­er­a­ture is to write seri­ous lit­er­a­ture.”

It is serendip­i­tous that I read the above pas­sage the day after hav­ing seen this video … brought to my atten­tion, as so many inter­est­ing things are these days, by Peter Hum at Jazzblog.ca:

Of course, I’m tempted to rend The Lit­tlest Marsalis with­out mercy (for instance: How ironic is it to hear some­one who presents him­self like Steve Urkel on prom night call some­one else a nerd? Elaine to George: “You’re bald!”). Child­ish sim­pli­fi­ca­tions and gen­er­al­iza­tions abound, yet rather than decon­struct every line, let’s instead address Jason’s over­ar­ch­ing theme, in which he pre­sumes to under­stand, then dis­miss, some­thing that appar­ently eludes him, to wit: The over­rid­ing moti­va­tion to cre­ate seri­ous art is the com­pul­sion (need, desire, obses­sion) to cre­ate seri­ous art. Enter­tain­ing peo­ple; per­pet­u­at­ing and nur­tur­ing a folk tra­di­tion; mak­ing a liv­ing?—?these are wor­thy goals, yet have as much to do with cre­at­ing seri­ous art as the abil­ity to wig­gle one’s ears.

The not so sub­tle sub­text in Jason’s mes­sage is that a will­ing­ness to con­form is the most impor­tant trait a jazz musi­cian can pos­sess. Every jazz musi­cian must play “stan­dard songs … that hun­dreds upon hun­dreds of peo­ple (have) sung along and learned …,” or he’s a pre­ten­tious nerd. And the audi­ence is equally cul­pa­ble, affect­ing a lik­ing for some­thing they can’t pos­si­bly under­stand … since, accord­ing to Jason, the musi­cian doesn’t under­stand it himself.

Jason comes off as the leader of some high school clique intent on enforc­ing the shal­low behav­ioral norms of ado­les­cence (woe to the kid who wears the wrong brand of sneak­ers). Like any teenager who knows it all by age 16, Jason assumes he can divine the moti­va­tions of peo­ple whose expe­ri­ences are in fact totally alien to him. In fact?–?and this I wish could go with­out say­ing, although it obvi­ously can­not?–?no one can truly know the moti­va­tions (to say noth­ing of the likes and dis­likes) of a fel­low human being. It is cer­tain that not every­one is suited to flow with the main­stream. Of course, some mem­bers of that main­stream pre­sume that because they do not under­stand some­thing, it is beyond under­stand­ing and there­fore ripe for mockery.

The funny thing is, I have no doubt (though I can’t know, wink-wink) that Jason makes music for essen­tially the same rea­son that I do?—?because he must. He has the need/desire/obsession to play what he plays. Jason wants to com­mu­ni­cate with an audi­ence, and he feels it impor­tant to respect his elders and the jazz tra­di­tion. So do I, but none of those fac­tors are any­where near the pri­mary rea­son I make music. I sus­pect they’re not the main rea­son Jason Marsalis does, either, even if he doesn’t know it him­self. Any seri­ous artist does what he does the way he does because he’s hard-wired to do it. Some of us like to color out­side the lines, oth­ers don’t, but we’re all as seri­ous as your life.

[A fol­lowup: It’s been pointed out that Jason’s rant was in part an attempt at humor. That fact was not lost on me, yet in the writ­ing I con­sid­ered it hardly rel­e­vant. Granted, I may be only a poor, comedy-illiterate free jazz musi­cian, yet as I under­stand the con­cept as taught to me by Com­man­der Data of the U.S.S. Enter­prise, humor’s most cru­cial ele­ment is to be funny or at least witty, and Jason’s lit­tle stand-up rou­tine falls way short.]