Omega is the Alpha

Let me start by saying I'm not a jazzhead. I met a few when I was in college and they are actually the only ones I have ever known, so what I'm going to say about jazzheads in general is not really learned from a large sample. These dudes were really into Charlie Parker. I remember that much. And they had really awful taste outside of jazz. (I can't really say anything about their taste in jazz.)

Once, one of them tried to explain to me how Radiohead's OK Computer was the best album of the 90s. He said it had a real concept. He said the concept was anti-technology but, at the same time, pro-technology. I wish I had told him that concept albums are generally stupid; one step removed from the rock opera (probably not the best argument to give to someone who loved Tommy) and that as concepts go, anti-/pro-technology, especially in the late 90s, is, well, just stupid. Instead, I pointed out to him that he owned less than 100 pop CDs (and probably more than half of them were outside the 90s). So his sample size was poor at best. I think I may have said that Le Mans' Aqui Vivia Yo was the best album of the 90s. This conversation was taking place in 1999, though, and that record had basically just come out, so it was rather fresh in my mind. There's really no solid reason for choosing it as the best of the decade.

(Actually I wish I had told him that the concept of a best of a decade is just stupid. Grand sweeping "best of" questions that ignore genre, location, etc—I don't understand them. But I also don't understand general favorites: favorite band, favorite color. I do understand small-set favorites: favorite pop band from Kansas City from the early 80s; favorite tie in my wardrobe.)

The jazz Heads I encountered didn't have a concept of music as art. At least not outside jazz and classical. They couldn't understand how something that works in the pop music mode could be art in the same way as an avant garde film---a work of art done essentially in a commercial medium. I don't think most of them really considered jazz as art either. I don't think it was Man, Charlie Parker was really creating something meaningful there. Rather it was more about the ability of the musician to play his instrument. BeBop does, afterall seem to be all about technical proficiency. (Concerning classical, I don't think they thought of it as an art involving criticism, evaluation of good/bad. Classical music is simply there and should be respected, but not evaluated—though this is more the vibe I got from all the classical musos I grew up with.)

What I mean to say is I don't think these jazzheads were even into their own genre as art. This makes sense though. It's consistent. It would be silly to put down pop music as not being art because it's pop considering jazz had its moment as the pop. I think the low view of pop came from pop musicians not having a good grasp of music theory, whereas jazz musicians do.

My experience with jazzheads since then has only been through reading. Both well edited books and web-statements ranging from decently written online articles to poorly written personal sites. And I'm very often surprised by what I read.

I think I listen to a fair amount of jazz now, though nothing before 1960 and only artists belonging to a very particular, close-knit sub-genre. The people whose writing I read, though, they listen to jazz (say it slowly). All of it. They love dixieland jazz. They love big band jazz, be-bop, and hard-bop. They speak in terms of "post-bop." They even, sometimes, some of them, like cool jazz, and soul jazz, and whatever else there is. They praise the most boring shit out there as being something divine and put down a lot of the truly interesting stuff as, well, as "not jazz." And so we often only agree in the middle.

I suppose an example would help:

John Coltrane: I wouldn't say I'm a big fan because I can't really stand any of his music before Ascension. That is, before he turned to the new thing. I find it all really boring. It's also too clean. So over-mastered and cleaned up that it's like you're listening to the group playing on an empty soundstage with no noise, no ambient sounds, nothing. This is probably because it's Coltrane—he's the icon of jazz and so his music is subject to the whole digital remastering treatment. But once he makes it to 1965 everything is gold. All those recordings after he finds the new sound are great. They also don't have those production problems. Though this may be just because they aren't in as high demand as the bop stuff and so they aren't subject to the same treatment. That's my point, though. They aren't in as high demand because jazzheads aren't into his last 3 years. At least not as much as they are into sappy shit like Ole and A Love Supreme.

Because I really love the type of jazz I listen to, I often think that I should like other jazz. So sometimes I try it out. Always the stuff listed as influential to what I like. Things like Charles Mingus, late 50s Miles Davis, early 60s John Coltrane. "modal jazz," basically. I even tried listening to some Charlie Parker. I can't stand it. I really can't. It's as boring as I always remembered jazz being. It's the reason I really like the "FUCK JAZZ" t-shirt a friend of mine made. Those jazz heads laid it on thick, but in the end that music is ass-boring.

All of this is a long winded way of saying I think there is good jazz out there, but if you ask the average jazz Head for recommendations he'll give you crap recs.

I had intended this as an introduction to review of Sonny Sharrock's early period, but it has taken a different route. I had originally planned on posting it at a friend of mine's blog. It seems like a lot of people I know have started blogs lately (see also here, here, here and, wow, here). I tried posting to a friends blog once–regularly at first, with embarrassing posts that were short, substanceless and full of cheap mp3 links, and then irregularly, with long thought-out posts, each with a clear focus. I like the idea of a blog, but have been upset with the execution of most blogs. However, I figure if friends of mine whose opinions I trust can manage it, I shouldn't be so embarrassed by the idea.

So instead of publishing this on a friend's blog as an overview of Sharrock, I'm putting it here as the introduction to my own blog. My next post will be the Sharrock article and I think I'll keep writing overview articles. I'll say most of them will be about jazz, Kraut Rock and minimalist academic music because that's what I've been listening to most lately.

The decision to start this blog was made on a whim, so I didn't spend any time on choosing a title or URL carefully. I just flipped through a book and grabbed a phrase. The title/URL is pulled from a review of a Donald Ayler performance that was published in The Cricket, a magazine published by Amiri Baraka / LeRoi Jones in the 1960s. The review was unsigned, but most probably written by the editors of the magazine. Donald Ayler had one solo record, which I've never heard, but I have heard everything he did (that was released) with his brother Albert Ayler. Leaving aside that I haven't heard the performance being reviewed, I would disagree with the writer, except I don't think the writer meant the harsh tone to convey such hatred. Baraka was friends with the Aylers and Albert Ayler was published in The Cricket, so I think the harsh tone was meant to be satire. It's a clever attack on Donald Ayler for having white bandmates. Though it could also be he just sucked that night. Anyway, I'll leave you with the review:

The Committee for Unified Newark, in its series of Black Arts/Soul Culture goings on. BMIE has had some dopey ones too, for instance, Donald Ayler played there. With his murphy game shoutin thru the shit he was sayin on stage, drunk, zipper open, staggering, he call his self a musician. Really just a cheap version with no identity, purpose and direction; nigger lacks. A value system. Right and wrong. Good and bad. Up and down. In and out. Up on stage with Bee ber Harris, who white wee moans, dun sucked about all his juice/energy from him insides. Slobin on his self. Unconscious of who he is or where he is going. Has no value system. Umoja, nia, kuumba (unity, purpose, creativity) and the rest. Laws that you live your life by, unchanging, good. Came to New Ark "playing" in this quick trio put together by Ayler, (who has since, said Sonny Murray, gone back to his hometown Cleveland to re cooperate, re gather, hopefully come back, BLACK). Which had on the first night on Indian oboe, (due to bullshit reasons) said his trumpet was stolen, and wanted to borrow our alto sax.; he did and broke it. We had to suffer, his "playing" one beatup note all night, which would probably have been the same on alto. Next night they came back Ayler had a trumpet which he said the "spirit brought to him" and played the same big ass run, the whole set. While in his rhythm section Richard Davis, bass, had the only strong sound anyone there could use. BH slobbered and nodded on his drums in a dopey daze, rocking back and forth to a crazy image of some dead white bitch. Splash! was his sound the whole night.

(Also, I encourage comments. Especially snarky ones. It's impossible for me to offer my opinion without saying stupid things and I'd like to be told exactly when I've done that.)