Struggling with Jazz.

I really struggled to get my head around Jazz music.  There.  I’ve said it.  It’s out.  I’m sure I’m not the only one, but those erratic time beats, wandering basslines and noodling guitars really threw me for six.  I knew it was meant to be cool and sophisticated, but I always came away from trying to listen to it feeling like a bit of an uncultured philistine.  Surely I was missing something.

It was while reading a book about Leonardo Da Vinci and how to cultivate his mindset that I came across an idea that may just help me get to grips with Jazz.  It suggested completely immersing myself in Jazz music for one week.  Buy some classic albums and artists and then saturate myself in all things jazzy and new to my senses for one whole week.  What did I have to lose, apart from my sanity?  So after a trip to HMV on Oxford street with my credit card in hand and where a helpful jazz aficionado member of staff suggested for me some key albums, I was all set and ready to go.

Day one eased me into things gently.  I listened to a Blue Note compilation album and got a feel for what sorts of jazz I may like.  I listened to some Dave Brubeck and his infectious ‘Take Five’ and some Herbie Hancock.  So far so good.  This all had a melody I could recognise and latch on to. My feet were tapping, my fingers were clicking and I was feeling cooler already.

Day two stepped things up a notch.  I started off with some Mingus and I’ll never forget the first time I heard the bass on ‘Haitian Fight Song’ reverberate through my body.  It seemed almost too elemental and when the drums and horns kicked in there was no going back.  Over the course of that day I listened to Miles Davis’ ‘Kind of Blue’, Lee Morgan’s ‘The Sidewinder’ and Jimmy Smith’s ‘The Sermon!’.  I walked home with a nonchalant bounce in my step and pondered how I’d look in a black roll neck and a beret.

Kind of Blue

Day three was like the day when going cold turkey really kicks in.  Thelonious Monk was my baptism of fire that morning and by the time I put on some Art Blakey and his frenetic drumming was hammering through my head, I was beginning to think I had bitten off more than I could chew.  I took a break over lunch and pushed the play button on ‘Friday Night in San Francisco’ with some trepidation.  Fortunately Al Di Meola, John McLaughlin and Paco de Lucia rescued my jazz experiment and I was back on track.  I rounded off the day with some Charlie Christian and Wes Montgomery and considered a membership to Ronnie Scotts.

Day four swung round and I was starting to find my feet. After the previous day and feeling my nerves and sanity beginning to fray, I thought it better to take it slow and begin with Charlie Parker’s ‘Washington Concert’.  It was an eye opening experience and I never knew a saxophone could sound so raw and so precise at the same time.  I would be coming back to this album again.  After Dizzy Gillespie’s ‘Groovin High’ I thought I’d try some Jazz vocalists and Nine Simone, Dinah Washington, Sarah Vaughan and Ella Fitzgerald all introduced me to the smoky, soulful side of Jazz and I had also found a side of it that felt less hectic and more measured.

Day five and it was the end of the work week, but not yet the end of my jazz immersion.  I had been suggested some modern jazz and after a few hours of Fourplay, Return to Forever and Weather Report I was ready to go back to more traditional jazz!  It was ok, but very dated and cheesy. No where near as cool as I’d hoped it to be.  John Coltrane’s ‘Blue Train’ got me back on the tracks, so to speak, and heading in the right direction again.  I tried some more Miles Davis and ‘Birth of the Cool’ more than lived up to it’s name.

Blue Train

Day six and I was starting to feel I was getting a handle on all this jazz lark.  I could hear the offbeats and get an understanding for why they were there and what they achieved.  The improvisational aspects confused me less and the more structured stuff balanced everything out just right.  I played some George Benson and Ron Afif and mentally relived seeing Afif in New York many years before (that’s another story).  Gil Scott Heron segued jazz into funk and back again and his poetry and jazz infusion was perfect for my weekend state of mind.  I played some Duke Ellington, before ending things with some eighties Quincy Jones.  I had listened to ‘Back on the Block’ numerous times growing up, so I knew it wasn’t going to be a problem for me.

Day seven and it was a lazy Sunday morning which found me slipping St Germain’s ‘Tourist’ into the CD player.  ‘Rose Rouge’ was addictive and my heartbeat was soon skipping along with that drumbeat.  A cup of strong coffee in one hand and St Germain playing in the background and I was transported to Paris and the hip, jazz scene.  If only.  The rest of the day I spent playing favourite tracks I had discovered that week.  I picked out a smooth soulful number here, a deep bassy mournful song there, followed by some slick guitar fills and atmospheric trumpets.  I sat back and was in my element.

Tourist

I won’t lie.  I found it extremely difficult some days and I have still never fully learnt to love Monk or Blakey.  But on the flip side I discovered some artists and music that week that has enriched my life immeasurably.  It was an experiment that took time and money, but it paid off my effort tenfold and I can now say I enjoy jazz in all it’s myriad forms and genuinely mean it. 

I didn’t buy that beret or sign up to Ronnie Scotts, but a small part of me did feel cooler just by listening to some of the music that week.  That wasn’t the main goal, but a tongue-in-cheek bonus and yet I can understand why some people use jazz to feel this way.  It’s one of the few times these nerds will ever feel like that and as a nerd myself I was happy to join in.  Jazz certainly is an acquired taste and I’m just glad I took the time to acquire it.