In addition to the major and medium sized labels, there is an explosion of small, independent labels, which accounts for the lion’s share of new recordings.  And that word, jazz, has become an umbrella for a wide range of music, everything from the most experimental sounds imaginable to the music I must endure in the dentist's chair and in supermarkets, smooth jazz.  Jazz is everywhere.  In some quarters, it’s become a sedative for the masses.

In my capacity as jazz industry professional, I receive many new recordings each week, so many in fact that I can’t listen to all of them.  I don’t solicit these offerings, mind you, they just arrive by magic, hoping that a kind word or two might help them find sympathetic ears elsewhere.

What I do hear is acceptable, though largely banal.  As background music, it’s certainly enjoyable at least one time through, but hardly memorable.  In fact, I hear very little that makes me return to most of the new music being issued today.   Twenty years from now, if I’m still here, how many recordings from the late 90s will I prize?

I have a way to determine great art, do I go back to it?  Does it contain a sound or an idea that stays in the mind.  After a play or film, do I think about the story the next day, or just leave the theater glad that I was able to forget about this dangerous planet for a couple of hours.

With jazz, there’s something else as well, the groove.  When it’s right, the music soothes me, helps me through the day.  It can even inspire me.   I love to encounter a sympathetic groove that helps me "wash away the dust of everyday life," as Art Blakey used to say.  Tracks with that kind of feeling end up in the repeat mode on my CD player.   The same music over and over, it’s like a mantra.

As I write, that spot is occupied by the track "Little Melonae," from Solid!, a new recording featuring a group comprised of Eric Alexander on tenor, John Hicks on piano, George Mraz on bass and Idris Muhammad on drums.   It’s a hard bop groove with a commanding tenor solo that recalls Dexter Gordon.  Four great musicians playing a jazz standard.  The formula can still work.

But it rarely does these days.  Most of the music I go back to wasn’t recorded in the 90s, but probably in the 50s or 60s.  Like Lee Morgan.  Or Trane.  That’s the stuff that sustains me. 

The difference is that those cats weren’t obsessed with making records.  They were more focused on playing music.  The records were great because of the musicians.

Now it’s a little different.  The focus isn’t on the musicians but on the record industry.  The center of a musician’s life isn’t making music but making records.

Look what’s happened to the survivors of the golden age. 

Joe Henderson was around during Blue Note Records heydey, and in the 90s, has received a degree of recognition and respect.  Yet which of his Verve recordings stand up to his Blue Note dates?

I have to agree with what Gary Bartz said in Down Beat about Joe Henderson’s rendition of Porgy and Bess.  It sounded to me like Joe was just going through the motions.  The idea here was to MAKE A RECORD. 

I think that’s where the jazz record industry started to run amok, when concept became king.

When a great musician like Joe Henderson goes into the studio to record, it has to be hitched to a concept.  Hence the spate of tribute recordings.

I certainly don't envy the jazz producer today, trying to come up with something that will differentiate the product in the marketplace.  But based on what I hear on Solid!, I vote more music and less concept.