Tonight I heard live jazz, almost extinct today in our area. The restaurant at which different groups play one night weekly The Wolverines (named after the 1923 short-lived group in which Bix Beiderbecke played), were there. Drums (Dave Didriksen), Tuba (Rick McWilliams), and Banjo (Jimmy Mazzy, doubled with vocals) provided the major rhythm, piano (Ross Petot) added, Trumpet (Jeff Hughes. doubled with flugelhorn),Trombone (Tom Oates), and baritone sax (Jon Clark, doubled on clarinet). What struck me, after a bit, was the pleasure the group gave that was missing on recordings and I began to wonder what made it so.
It took little time to realize that all my senses were being occupied. I felt the room's ambiance. People's bodies were responding to music, even those off the dance floor. The lyricism was gripping. The number in the audience of about 70 was matched by their ages. Noted was that there were acoustic instruments, though the size of the room required a couple of microphones and an amplifier for the banjo. There was a balance so that all instruments were heard at all times. When sung, words were recognizable. The beat resounded but never overpowered the other instruments. The musicians traded fours or played riffs, improvising as aria in an opera. The tuba laid down such a melodic and solid foundation of rhythm it was like building the strength of an ancient stone church.
The beauty of good jazz is that it is music in 3D as counterpointing and harmonizing melodies run around each other and entwine like vines in a jungle. Good musicians can make it not only exciting, but beautiful. The instruments overrode the rude and noisy audience that breaks out periodically to the annoyance of those who were there to listen to the musicians.
They took the sounds of poorly recorded music of the 20s and 30s and rearranged and recorded it to become an almost new genre, though the songs were written decades ago; songs like I Ain't Lazy, I'm Just Dreaming, Dardanella, Just Because, Shine, Riverboat Shuffle but for me the version of Blue Prelude played by Tom Oates on trombone was deeply affective. His tone is so rich, smooth and full it was as full of color as a human voice.
Lastly, what is missing in a CD is the camaraderie of wishing a regular patron a Happy Birthday with warmth and affection, and saying goodbye to one who died by playing My Gal Sal (his wife's name) and My Buddy. As i listened I realized that my appreciation was heightened by the fact that I grew up listening to these tunes and they were SO familiar. I made a mental note to try to be more patient with a younger generation who grew up with a totally different genre that is as unpleasant to my ears as mine is to theirs.
3 comments:
I don't remember if I told you, but I had the time of my life last Tuesday night when I went to hear the US Navy Band's Jazz Ensemble, The Commodores, live at Key West High School. For two and a half hours, I was bouncing around (literally as well as in my head) and remembering. What a great genre!
Yes, these art forms are in danger of passing into the oblivion as I realized when I was privileged enough to attend the Boston Ballet's production of Cinderella recently. I was struck by an awareness of greatness, an intense feeling of involvement with the dancers, the live music from the invisible pit and my reactions of joy and pleasure when some clever bit of talent appeared magically before my eyes. There is no comparable pleasure to seeing performances live and filling every sense. I hope that our future generations will not be denied this and be doomed to seeing things only on a flat screen.
Anonymous, it is good that you point out that Jazz is only one of the genres in danger!
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