JAM Magazine: February/March 1997 Issue: What is Jazz?

What is Jazz?
(Conclusion)
by Paul Hofmann

What is jazz? As promised in the last issue of JAM, I'll give you my answer -- in a moment! But first, some background for those who might have missed Part 1.

I was fortunate to have been raised in a musical household. I studied classical piano from an early age, heard a steady stream of Bach, Mozart and Beethoven while growing up, and even tried my hand at composing from the age of nine.

Like most teenagers of some twenty years ago, I idolized the rock and pop artists of my generation. At the same time, I found myself seduced by the rhythms of my grandparent's music. I quickly became hooked on jazz, particularly its complex improvisations. I distinctly remember my first impression of Oscar Peterson's piano playing ("wow...").

As a kid I naturally sought out the hippest, most recent jazz releases. I purchased some new records from the jazz section of the local record store: albums by Return to Forever, Mahavishnu Orchestra and Weather Report. I not only enjoyed most of what I heard, I also knew this was music my grandparents (or even my parents) wouldn't recognize as jazz.

In my previous JAM article, I recalled: "In the 1970s, many new LPs that the music industry called 'jazz' were instrumental hybrids of jazzy solos and rock rhythms... This mixture seemed to be the newly accepted definition... (To me) it seemed strange finding these records in the jazz bins. I had been taught to appreciate the differences between musical styles... I began wondering if we had perhaps entered a 'post-label' world... Should the question 'what is jazz?' be rephrased 'what was jazz?'"

"Is it appropriate... to call Headhunters a "jazz" album? Or Weather Report a "jazz" group?"

Upon reflection, I've concluded that the broad, current use of this term is both inaccurate and confusing. In this same article, I opined: "How this music has been marketed -- especially in recent years -- reflects the all-too-common penchant to sell the product, even if dishonestly..." If this was true then, it's certainly true today, given the marketing of Kenny G's pop saxophone music as a legitimate jazz style. This should hardly come as a surprise; the misapplication of language is (unfortunately) symptomatic of modern American culture.

Of the many common words and phrases used these days with little regard for accuracy, two examples will suffice. Exhibit A: the term "constitutional." For decades now, constitutional rights have been expanded to include an exponentially wider variety of things than ever before -- this in spite of the fact that our Constitution itself is a rather short document, mentioning few specific rights. It is only a recent phenomenon that such new rights are upheld by lawyers as constitutional, apparently due to the simple desire that this be so. Whether this is a good thing or not is beside the point; politics aside, without a doubt the word "constitutional" has assumed a brand new meaning.

Exhibit B: the term "low fat." Now if words have any significance, shouldn't "low fat servings" of food refer to portions that, by definition, are truly low in fat? Yet we all know what this has come to mean: servings that are merely lower in fat than the highest fat-content portions. How I wish low fat really meant low fat! These illustrations show how the modern misuse of language has helped create confusion in our culture. Is it any wonder that so many other expressions -- jazz included -- have taken on different meanings?

For words and phrases to be interpreted coherently, they must rely on good, sound, accurate definitions. In the October/November JAM, I wrote: "It's surely true that jazz music... contains at least one unique element: its rhythm. The swing beat is something fundamental to jazz and is not prominently found in any other musical genre. By contrast, the art of improvisation has a long history; no doubt dating from when the earliest music was made. And so, we see that the other defining characteristic of jazz -- improvisation -- is certainly not limited to it... Jazz can be defined by (these) two fundamental elements (the swing beat and the prevalence of improvisation)..."

Examining my record collection recently, I reaffirm these sentiments. From its inception some eighty years ago, jazz has featured an innovative swinging beat (itself derived from ragtime's syncopations) as the predominant rhythm. Simultaneously, it has applied (and augmented) the existing vocabulary of Western Music in its improvisations. In the final analysis, jazz occupies an important late chapter in our history, even while having incorporated non-Western influences in the process (such as Eastern scales, modes and chords). In similar fashion, American English has borrowed words from other languages, such as "cafe" (French), "gesundheit" (German) and "mish-mash" (Yiddish). New words have evolved ("wow!" "cool!"), but English it remains. My point? The integrity -- and the proper uses -- of common dialects and idioms are foundational for healthy civilizations. It is important that societies treat their languages with care.

Yet there is another factor that has influenced this jazz dilemma quite apart from linguistic concerns. The fact that a good deal of non-jazz music has been considered jazz is a natural by-product of certain established jazz artists change of musical direction. The best early example: In 1973, Herbie Hancock released a rock-oriented album called Headhunters. In short order, the record became very popular. The general musical marketplace, aware only of Herbie Hancock the jazz pianist, logically assumed his new music to be bona-fide jazz. Indeed, why not? This perception was reinforced when Columbia Records proudly announced Headhunters to be the first million-selling jazz album. Not many people are jazz experts!

Is it appropriate, then, to call Headhunters a "jazz" album? Or Weather Report a "jazz" group? This music featured a great deal of improvisation; more than most groups, then or now. But because jazz's identifying swing beat appears so rarely on these recordings, for clarity's sake we should call this multi-faceted music something else (I think "fusion" is fine, although the archaic term "jazz-rock" may be descriptively more accurate). The same holds true for Mahavishnu and Return to Forever.

Admittedly, this fidelity to linguistic integrity becomes problematic in a merchandising sense. If Miles Davis's music up to the late 1960s qualifies as jazz, and his '70s-'80s music as perhaps something else, how then to market the man? And what about the many non-improvised recordings by Ellington, Chick Corea and Keith Jarrett? These are classical records of a sort; should they be filed in the classical section? As the aforementioned men are known primarily as jazz artists, I wonder: should the proper categorization of music take precedence over locating the entirety of a diverse artist's work in one record bin?

This question is for another time, but the upshot here remains: it's important to remain consistent in our definitions when discussing jazz music (or anything else!).

Comments? As always, I'd love to hear them.

(Paul Hofmann is a former Kansas City resident and is now living and gigging in Rochester, NY. He can be reached by E-mail at: 105136.1434@compuserve.com -- Ed.)

RETURN TO FEBRUARY/MARCH 1997 MAIN INDEX

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© Kansas City Jazz Ambassadors 1996-2001. All rights reserved.






	Search our site:		What is Jazz? (Conclusion) by Paul Hofmann What is jazz? As promised in the last issue of JAM, I'll give you my answer -- in a moment! But first, some background for those who might have missed Part 1. I was fortunate to have been raised in a musical household. I studied classical piano from an early age, heard a steady stream of Bach, Mozart and Beethoven while growing up, and even tried my hand at composing from the age of nine. Like most teenagers of some twenty years ago, I idolized the rock and pop artists of my generation. At the same time, I found myself seduced by the rhythms of my grandparent's music. I quickly became hooked on jazz, particularly its complex improvisations. I distinctly remember my first impression of Oscar Peterson's piano playing ("wow..."). As a kid I naturally sought out the hippest, most recent jazz releases. I purchased some new records from the jazz section of the local record store: albums by Return to Forever, Mahavishnu Orchestra and Weather Report. I not only enjoyed most of what I heard, I also knew this was music my grandparents (or even my parents) wouldn't recognize as jazz. In my previous JAM article, I recalled: "In the 1970s, many new LPs that the music industry called 'jazz' were instrumental hybrids of jazzy solos and rock rhythms... This mixture seemed to be the newly accepted definition... (To me) it seemed strange finding these records in the jazz bins. I had been taught to appreciate the differences between musical styles... I began wondering if we had perhaps entered a 'post-label' world... Should the question 'what is jazz?' be rephrased 'what was jazz?'" "Is it appropriate... to call Headhunters a "jazz" album? Or Weather Report a "jazz" group?" Upon reflection, I've concluded that the broad, current use of this term is both inaccurate and confusing. In this same article, I opined: "How this music has been marketed -- especially in recent years -- reflects the all-too-common penchant to sell the product, even if dishonestly..." If this was true then, it's certainly true today, given the marketing of Kenny G's pop saxophone music as a legitimate jazz style. This should hardly come as a surprise; the misapplication of language is (unfortunately) symptomatic of modern American culture. Of the many common words and phrases used these days with little regard for accuracy, two examples will suffice. Exhibit A: the term "constitutional." For decades now, constitutional rights have been expanded to include an exponentially wider variety of things than ever before -- this in spite of the fact that our Constitution itself is a rather short document, mentioning few specific rights. It is only a recent phenomenon that such new rights are upheld by lawyers as constitutional, apparently due to the simple desire that this be so. Whether this is a good thing or not is beside the point; politics aside, without a doubt the word "constitutional" has assumed a brand new meaning. Exhibit B: the term "low fat." Now if words have any significance, shouldn't "low fat servings" of food refer to portions that, by definition, are truly low in fat? Yet we all know what this has come to mean: servings that are merely lower in fat than the highest fat-content portions. How I wish low fat really meant low fat! These illustrations show how the modern misuse of language has helped create confusion in our culture. Is it any wonder that so many other expressions -- jazz included -- have taken on different meanings? For words and phrases to be interpreted coherently, they must rely on good, sound, accurate definitions. In the October/November JAM, I wrote: "It's surely true that jazz music... contains at least one unique element: its rhythm. The swing beat is something fundamental to jazz and is not prominently found in any other musical genre. By contrast, the art of improvisation has a long history; no doubt dating from when the earliest music was made. And so, we see that the other defining characteristic of jazz -- improvisation -- is certainly not limited to it... Jazz can be defined by (these) two fundamental elements (the swing beat and the prevalence of improvisation)..." Examining my record collection recently, I reaffirm these sentiments. From its inception some eighty years ago, jazz has featured an innovative swinging beat (itself derived from ragtime's syncopations) as the predominant rhythm. Simultaneously, it has applied (and augmented) the existing vocabulary of Western Music in its improvisations. In the final analysis, jazz occupies an important late chapter in our history, even while having incorporated non-Western influences in the process (such as Eastern scales, modes and chords). In similar fashion, American English has borrowed words from other languages, such as "cafe" (French), "gesundheit" (German) and "mish-mash" (Yiddish). New words have evolved ("wow!" "cool!"), but English it remains. My point? The integrity -- and the proper uses -- of common dialects and idioms are foundational for healthy civilizations. It is important that societies treat their languages with care. Yet there is another factor that has influenced this jazz dilemma quite apart from linguistic concerns. The fact that a good deal of non-jazz music has been considered jazz is a natural by-product of certain established jazz artists change of musical direction. The best early example: In 1973, Herbie Hancock released a rock-oriented album called Headhunters. In short order, the record became very popular. The general musical marketplace, aware only of Herbie Hancock the jazz pianist, logically assumed his new music to be bona-fide jazz. Indeed, why not? This perception was reinforced when Columbia Records proudly announced Headhunters to be the first million-selling jazz album. Not many people are jazz experts! Is it appropriate, then, to call Headhunters a "jazz" album? Or Weather Report a "jazz" group? This music featured a great deal of improvisation; more than most groups, then or now. But because jazz's identifying swing beat appears so rarely on these recordings, for clarity's sake we should call this multi-faceted music something else (I think "fusion" is fine, although the archaic term "jazz-rock" may be descriptively more accurate). The same holds true for Mahavishnu and Return to Forever. Admittedly, this fidelity to linguistic integrity becomes problematic in a merchandising sense. If Miles Davis's music up to the late 1960s qualifies as jazz, and his '70s-'80s music as perhaps something else, how then to market the man? And what about the many non-improvised recordings by Ellington, Chick Corea and Keith Jarrett? These are classical records of a sort; should they be filed in the classical section? As the aforementioned men are known primarily as jazz artists, I wonder: should the proper categorization of music take precedence over locating the entirety of a diverse artist's work in one record bin? This question is for another time, but the upshot here remains: it's important to remain consistent in our definitions when discussing jazz music (or anything else!). Comments? As always, I'd love to hear them. (Paul Hofmann is a former Kansas City resident and is now living and gigging in Rochester, NY. He can be reached by E-mail at: 105136.1434@compuserve.com -- Ed.) RETURN TO FEBRUARY/MARCH 1997 MAIN INDEX ------------------------------------------------------------------------ © Kansas City Jazz Ambassadors 1996-2001. All rights reserved.