JAM Magazine: April/May 1997 Issue: Coda

by Mike Metheny

TALKING UP,
DUMBING DOWN

"The crowd is the fifth member of the quartet." -- Dave Brubeck

In the September 1996 Down Beat, writer John McDonough begins his well-crafted tribute to the late Ella Fitzgerald with the following provocative observation:

"Of all the sad thoughts that have seen print since Ella Fitzgerald's not entirely unexpected passing... none seems sadder than the fact that we have lost a living link to a smarter, more literate, more courtly time in our cultural history. It was an era that coalesced between the wars, respected elitism, honored craft, imitated excellence, rewarded quality and expired sometime in the 1960s. As long as there were originals of the period like Ella around, though, the spirit of those times had its voices. It all seems the more precious nowadays with every new obituary."

If McDonough is right, then we have been on a cultural, social and intellectual slide for right at 30 years. And if you agree with him, you don't have to look much further than tabloid/talk TV, late-twentieth century political discourse, and yes, even the behavior of assorted nightclub patrons for selective, short-list proof.

It does seem as though rude has become cool. Think of it: the boob tube spews a daily cavalcade of glorified human aberration; our political leaders hurl mud at one another like impudent school children on a playground; and an indigenous music whose roots are steeped in sophistication, smarts and soul is now to be ignored and talked over -- make that shouted over -- in many a venue featuring live jazz.

The real losers on the nightclub end of this trend are the aficionados on both sides of the lights who suffer from the absence of a bona fide connection between musician and listener due to racket more suited for a bowling alley than a jazz club. More often than not, those who follow the music chose to avoid the din altogether leaving the proletariat to fill in the ranks and the musicians baring their souls ready to throw in the towel. And that's a shame.

But, you know what? It doesn't have to be that way. At least not here in Kansas City.

The fact that you've picked up this magazine and have made it to these back few pages says that you are moderately interested in jazz at the least, passionate at best. If you also like to go out and listen to the music of KC's many hard-working jazz musicians (emphasis on "listen"), then you can make a difference by saying something to management the next time excessive crowd noise makes it all an exercise in futility. As a paying customer, you will have the same clout as the oblivious revelers ruining your evening. If you chose to do nothing, however, then expect more slights like the one found in Down Beat (February '95) when Kansas City was omitted from its feature article "The Best Cities To Play Jazz in America." There was quite a bit of indignation about that piece, some of which was justified. It could also be said, though, that Kansas City can't have it both ways. A town that wants to be taken seriously as a major league jazz hub must also know how to act like one. And part of that starts in the clubs, with the people who run them, and with the patrons who fill the seats.

The talent is here. No doubt about that. And so is that valued segment of the community that's tuned in to the music. But the balance between those in the know and, as Jerry Springer would say, "Noisy Slackers Who Seduce Space Aliens In Jazz Clubs" is clearly tipping in favor of the latter. Let's do something about that. Before it's too late.

(Next -- Spontaneous slow-dancing in a jazz club. Or: "Biff 'n Buffy miss the point...")

RETURN TO APRIL/MAY 1997 MAIN INDEX

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






	Search our site:		by Mike Metheny TALKING UP, DUMBING DOWN "The crowd is the fifth member of the quartet." -- Dave Brubeck In the September 1996 Down Beat, writer John McDonough begins his well-crafted tribute to the late Ella Fitzgerald with the following provocative observation: "Of all the sad thoughts that have seen print since Ella Fitzgerald's not entirely unexpected passing... none seems sadder than the fact that we have lost a living link to a smarter, more literate, more courtly time in our cultural history. It was an era that coalesced between the wars, respected elitism, honored craft, imitated excellence, rewarded quality and expired sometime in the 1960s. As long as there were originals of the period like Ella around, though, the spirit of those times had its voices. It all seems the more precious nowadays with every new obituary." If McDonough is right, then we have been on a cultural, social and intellectual slide for right at 30 years. And if you agree with him, you don't have to look much further than tabloid/talk TV, late-twentieth century political discourse, and yes, even the behavior of assorted nightclub patrons for selective, short-list proof. It does seem as though rude has become cool. Think of it: the boob tube spews a daily cavalcade of glorified human aberration; our political leaders hurl mud at one another like impudent school children on a playground; and an indigenous music whose roots are steeped in sophistication, smarts and soul is now to be ignored and talked over -- make that shouted over -- in many a venue featuring live jazz. The real losers on the nightclub end of this trend are the aficionados on both sides of the lights who suffer from the absence of a bona fide connection between musician and listener due to racket more suited for a bowling alley than a jazz club. More often than not, those who follow the music chose to avoid the din altogether leaving the proletariat to fill in the ranks and the musicians baring their souls ready to throw in the towel. And that's a shame. But, you know what? It doesn't have to be that way. At least not here in Kansas City. The fact that you've picked up this magazine and have made it to these back few pages says that you are moderately interested in jazz at the least, passionate at best. If you also like to go out and listen to the music of KC's many hard-working jazz musicians (emphasis on "listen"), then you can make a difference by saying something to management the next time excessive crowd noise makes it all an exercise in futility. As a paying customer, you will have the same clout as the oblivious revelers ruining your evening. If you chose to do nothing, however, then expect more slights like the one found in Down Beat (February '95) when Kansas City was omitted from its feature article "The Best Cities To Play Jazz in America." There was quite a bit of indignation about that piece, some of which was justified. It could also be said, though, that Kansas City can't have it both ways. A town that wants to be taken seriously as a major league jazz hub must also know how to act like one. And part of that starts in the clubs, with the people who run them, and with the patrons who fill the seats. The talent is here. No doubt about that. And so is that valued segment of the community that's tuned in to the music. But the balance between those in the know and, as Jerry Springer would say, "Noisy Slackers Who Seduce Space Aliens In Jazz Clubs" is clearly tipping in favor of the latter. Let's do something about that. Before it's too late. (Next -- Spontaneous slow-dancing in a jazz club. Or: "Biff 'n Buffy miss the point...") RETURN TO APRIL/MAY 1997 MAIN INDEX ------------------------------------------------------------------------ © Kansas City Jazz Ambassadors 1996-2001. All rights reserved.