There’s no one else here. This is only seen by me until it’s seen by you, by which time I’ve finished it. So the first person to hear this advice is me, and it’s as much for me as it is for you, whoever you are.
The jazz world, with its soft borders for some, it’s strict rules of engagement for others, could be seen as a single eco-system. In doing things their way, people make space for each other, whether they like it or not. We feed off each other, support each other even in our differences.
Those of you who know me might be surprised to hear me say that. As I said, it’s for me as much as you.
Musicians can be obsessive, they need to be, and often equally so regarding criticism of other people’s ways of working. Familiar scenarios might include, but not be limited, to the following:
He Sold Out (Has An Audience).
She Doesn’t Know Her Way Around Chord Changes (doesn’t play standards).
They Went “Avant Garde” And Abandoned Their Values (They Abandoned My Values).
It’s All Image And No Music (The Band Are Younger Than Me).
These sentiments are always sincere, often justified, mostly bluster and catharsis, and can often run riot when work is scarce and adulation scarcer. They are not to be sniffed at. Let them in.
In the end though, a musician who plays in a way you don’t approve of is making a space for you. He or she is cementing your own ideas about what you want to sound like. What do you hear in that space instead of them?
Musicians I don’t like much inspire me, they are part of a process of elimination in finding my own way through the endless maze of music. I try and thank my lucky stars they exist.
I often fail.
(Writing this down helps).
I also love to hear musicians who can do things I can’t do, because then I can enjoy listening to them. From my distance of indifference to measuring myself against them.
(Again, writing helps).
Relish the differences in taste, because they come from your history, the million micro-experiences of hearing certain things in music and feeling a light go on.
Bluffers and charlatans are ultimately left to face their own demons, regardless of their successes. The work will be it’s own reward. It’s just like writing blogs. A face in the mirror looks back and tells you to work harder. Or relax. Relax harder.
Ok that may not be correct. I left out the people who a) don’t care about getting better and b) can’t hear how bad they sound.
Don’t be like them. Work hard. Get better and enjoy getting better. That’s my only real advice, and this blog series will probably turn out to be an alphabetically restrictive circling of that thought. I see myself basically as an apple-thumbed hawk above the hapless hamster of musical process.
So, don’t be like them.
Writing this down helps.