Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Union Cat: Jazz on the Rocks: A Rap on Pulp Music

"I worry that the person who thought up Muzak may be thinking up something else." – Lily Tomlin 


Well, Lily, he and his spawn have been. Non-stop. We have witnessed the musical death of a generation in this country, one that grew up never hearing a melody they could whistle, who think chords are trousers, and think 'bones is a TV program. Most mass-produced pop music, – pop, so-called light jazz, rock and roll and rap – are to music as burgers, fries and coke are to food: mostly crap that goes in one end and out the other, leaving behind deadly wastes that destroy the consumers' sense of taste, thus fulfilling the Biblical prophesy that the worst shall become the best.


Perhaps, I should explain. I'm a musician, a jazz musician. I play the bass – not the plastic one that hangs from one's neck (that's a bass guitar) – but the big wooden one that goes boom boom boom. I've been seriously listening to music for 65 years. My first album, at age five, was Prokofiev's Peter and the Wolf, then Paul Robeson and the Almanac Singers.


Starting at seven, I studied violin for 11 years, played European classical music, and Bach in college. Took up the bass at 16. Listened to and played polkas, pop tunes, country western and Greek folk music. And, finally, jazz. After diddling around with the soft stuff, I heard Sonny Rollins' Colossus album. And then Dizzy Gillespie's early bebop and big band recordings. Blown away! Push that other stuff to the curb!


It's probably too late, but don't get me wrong. There is good rock and rap, polkas and pop. I once heard Anton Refregier, the noted artist, describe differences in art. If walking in a building and you see a painting with only large splashes of color, you might say, “That's nice,” or even “Hmm, that's nice.” But you're not likely to stand there studying it and discovering ever-deeper meaning and understanding. (Unless you're an art dealer.)

What Do You Call Music Without Words


Let me digress. Music has no words, only sounds. The words associated with music are lyrics – poetry, if you prefer. To fully appreciate music, you must understand its language, not so much its technical aspects, though there are rewards to be found in knowing technique, but more so in the meaning of the music. That lies in its history. There's the history of the music in general – its socio-economic roots, its development (really, changes) over time, its players and audiences, etc. Then there's the history of the actual notes – different styles and tones, the use and alterations of phrases played by previous musicians. Knowing these factors allows one to appreciate the music in a deeper way, to hear humor and anger, confidence and despair, rebelliousness and caution. All of which can give one a positive sense of belonging to a strong tradition.

With market-challenged music, much is lost or not even present. Without words, the listener does not know when to laugh (as in sit-coms) or cry. Soft becomes “beautiful” and loud is taken to be “angry.” Most music today is watched. The musicians may be skilled or not. It's the production, sexily attired, and some words that make it popular. Tradition is shifted from the music to the experience (Woodstock) or subtly woven into the constant repetitiveness of the tunes themselves. (End of digression.)

In all music, there are nice tunes and nice singers. But can one compare “Doggie in the Window” with “Strange Fruit,” or Johnny Mathis with Ray Charles? How many times do you have to listen to AC/DC or Jay-Z to plumb their depths? Much of today's music either has no melody or consists of a short loop repeating one to two phrases over and over and over again. Eventually, like jingles or “Costanza,” it's burned into your brain. There's nothing to understand. It nourishes your brain like a popsiclee.


I'll enjoy a burger and fries every other month. But not every day! A dear friend of mine never tasted garlic until she was 19. Without ever tasting that garlic and sensing its power to excite, she would never have become the gourmet cook she is today.

One problem with popular music is that it's addictive and often prevents one's musical growth. People with a steady diet of rock and rap are less likely to appreciate Mingus or Monk. Life without garlic, like life without Ornette, would be poorer. And there are millions who never get to know either.

It's All About Money, Lily

Forgive me if I go political on you, but this is Political Affairs you're reading. Popular music is mass produced for profit. Basically, four corporations control the music “business,” from recordings, concerts, radio/TV and movies, as well as in selecting the music and artists, what gets recorded, production and distribution, who gets the gigs, who become supernovas and who wind up dead stars.

So, Daddy, how do we break the smothering grip of Corporate Control of Music. Well son, that's a very good question, which means I don't know. There are some things, such as peer-to-peer free downloads on the net, that are making small dents in the system. Or were, until the market cops got them. It's obvious that profit has to be restricted from determining the flow of music. Government subsidies (federal, state and local) to musicians and performances, the re-funding of school music programs at all levels, more publicly funded radio and TV shows featuring different forms of quality music. And, of course, these have to be democratically administered, to allow musicians free rein in what they compose or perform. (The elimination of capitalism will help, but is not the sole answer, as the restrictions on artists in the USSR showed.)

Five years ago the Cleveland Federation of Musicians began its own booking agency, which solicits and books union bands at union wages and benefits. It uses the “profits” to subsidize gigs for local city concerts and other venues that can no longer fund these events. While still small, nearly half its active free-lance members have gotten at least one job this year. Plans are underway to raise significant funds to support and expand the agency.

It is my belief that as musicians are freed up from the tyranny of the Market and allowed to create what they feel, more will gravitate to more creative forms with deeper content.

Today, many musicians are trying to fight the system. However, like most workers, they're not trying change the system so much as to get a better deal from the system. But aside from better pay and working conditions, many are trying to get heard, get more money,and become famous. Others simply want the work. They're trying to get a larger share of the market, not eliminate the market. Advertise, get a web site, get an agent, convert all your instruments to guitars.

Jazz has “captured” a mere two percent of market share. Those of us in that genre are playing it for the pleasure that comes from creating the music. That's why we all have day gigs. Long live the two percenters!