A few scenarios:
A jazz club in a big city. A great band is playing, the room is packed, it’s a jazz party, a night to remember.
A restaurant gig in the suburbs, where a trio of guitar, bass, and keyboard work their way through some standards, for diners and a bar crowd. The musicians are completely focussed on the music, despite the casual setting.
Five college students majoring in jazz studies have a session in a practice room. Obviously, no one is being paid; no one even knows how to get a gig, or what playing a gig is all about.
A retired music teacher plays once a week with some other retirees in a big band.
An ambitious manager at a coffee shop in a college town begins booking jazz once a month; within a year, touring bands are emailing about booking a show.
A 12-year old sees a flyer for a jazz camp and half-thinks “looks good to me”.
A small-town retiree spends $50 of her monthly pension on jazz: new records, downloads, tickets to the few concerts in her small town, and so on. She’s been doing this for all 20 years of her retirement.
“I’m glad to see anything that anybody does on any of our great people. Even if I don’t approve, I’m glad to see they’re doing it…just to the further the ‘name’, or whatever it is..”
-Arthur Taylor, in response to Warren Smith’s question “What did you think of the movie Bird?” Schomburg Center, July 26, 1994.
It’s a simple and perhaps not terribly profound point I’m making, but it’s worth repeating and good to meditate on: everything we do is interrelated, all our activity connects, no one is an island, and everything we do has meaning.
The jazz community is not just full clubs, great bands, European tours, merch sold, thousands of Bandcamp subscribers. We know this, but I forget, so I’m writing it here to help me remember.
If the Village Vanguard sold every ticket available for the next two years, those of us who love jazz, wish to be involved in it, and want to see it thrive and flourish, should not rest easy, should not say “The Vanguard is sold out for two years. We’re good! The music is in great shape”.
Of course, I want to see every club full, every night, I want lots of bands playing, I want everybody paid, I want it all to happen. But it’s not the whole story.
Ok, but if jazz is not only about full clubs and long tours- the core of the live music business- then what is jazz about? If jazz is not only at the Village Vanguard, then where is it?
Simple answer: jazz is everywhere jazz people are. Jazz is a rich, special community, made up of jazz people, including musicians, but not just musicians. And we need every single person.
Just sticking to NYC, the less-well-known venues are where new ideas are hatched, new sounds are heard, new players are introduced. This is where the unfolding occurs.
The folks who play these venues mostly come from music schools; that’s been the case for the past 50 years. For better or for worse, it’s in college jazz programs and conservatories where young, ambitious minds first have a chance to get truly serious about the music.
These students come from all over. Some are from musical families in major US cities, but many of the students, all with ambition and seeds of genius, come from No Place Special, USA.
And, of course, so much greatness in jazz has always come from outside the USA; from South America, Mexico, and Canada, Europe, China, Japan, South Korea, Australia, India, Africa. Jazz has been a worldwide human passion for almost a century. Think of all those parents, teachers, musical instrument dealers, concert bookers…..it’s endless…..
Young people, now as then, are introduced to jazz through teachers (not necessarily teachers in schools, or even teachers that give formal lessons) and media.
I love music teachers. Common teacher species in my youth were: band director with an undying love for Maynard Ferguson, Buddy Rich, and Weather Report, who holds precision and selfless group playing as the highest values; older guy with every record, dying to share the thing he cares about with anyone who’s interested; local private instrumental teacher who studied with a well-known teacher, and who is passionate about disseminating what he can to those who will have it.
So far, I’ve only focussed on musicians and music teachers. But jazz isn’t only the musicians; first it’s listeners, the audience; then writers, bookers, publicists, historians, podcasters, bloggers, label owners, record store proprietors (a small group, sure, but important), recording engineers, deejays, publishers, and so on.
Musicians sometimes devalue the contributions of critics and record companies, but we do that at our own peril. Without the audience, the writers and bloggers who tell the audience about the album or concert, and the folks that booked the concert or printed the album, no jazz.
When I was 10, 11, 12 years old, jazz was everywhere, it seemed. I bet you can learn plenty about jazz on social media; I’m sure the musically curious 10, 11, and 12 year old of 2023 can see jazz everywhere, just like I could.
Music is simply an activity; it’s as natural for a human to make music as it is for a human to walk. The music the human makes is an expression of the human’s existence; we hang the word jazz on a certain kind of music, on the music made by jazz people. Anything that jazz people do is jazz, enriches jazz.
I believe- I hope- that what I’m doing here, writing on Substack about the music and drummers that enchant me, who deserve our attention, is part of what makes jazz such a special community.
Naive or corny as I might be, I think we are all jazz people.
Thanks!! Inspiring words, and amazing drumming source from day 1.
Great post!