By The Pariah

"Burns decision to squeeze forty percent of jazz's history, from 1961 to present, into 10 percent of his air time makes you wonder whether this film, so full of life and music, isn't in fact a memorial to a dead art form. As the narration notes, jazz now accounts for less than 3 percent of record sales--back in the Swing Era, it was about 70 percent--and today's post Wynton stars, the Roy Hargroves, Nicholas Paytons and Joshua Redmans, are essentially playing the music of the early 1960s. Hasn't Jazz simply run its course? Hasn't it all been done to death?" - David Gates, Newsweek Magazine, January 8, 2001 This is what happens when a self-appointed spokesperson for an art form is focused solely on the past, not the present. For all the good Wynton Marsalis has done, as a role-model and artistic director of the Lincoln Center Jazz Program, the sad truth is that his own music, isn't about innovation or change, it's about re-examination. (His sycophants, Mr. Crouch, Mr. Murray, Mr. Early, etc., would probably point out Marsalis’ “Blood on the Fields,” the Pulitzer Prize wining composition as an example of his “contribution” to the Jazz cannon. Oh really? A hundred years from now that ponderous exercise in musical masturbation will no doubt be relegated to the scrap heap of oblivion along with disco music and eight track players.)

Wait, I can’t blame all the ills of the Jazz world on man from New Orleans, although he does make a rather convenient target. (I love Doc Cheatham’s take on Wynton’s playing. When asked about Marsalis’ trumpet acumen, Doc said, after some deep thought in response to a question, “he’s a great……………classical trumpet player.”)

A lion’s share of the blame for the lack of focus on contemporary music must be put on the Jazz recording industry and it’s tribute fetish.

When I first started listening to jazz, back in the early 60s, new releases featured artists who played a combination of standards and their own compositions. Their artistry was the focus, with masterful improvisations and intriguing compositions making for memorable recordings on such labels as Blue Note, Prestige, Riverside and Columbia. Not surprisingly, this music has proved to be eternal and today, still sounds fresh. It's the recreations and tributes that don't.

Lately, if we believe the marketing gurus who sit in the catbird seats of power at record labels large and small, making good music just isn't enough. With so many new CDs being released along with reissues, 13,300(!) jazz releases last year alone, the labels are constantly forced to find some "hook" for their "product." How to market an artist? The easiest way is obviously, so and so plays the music of such and such jazz master.

Hence the onslaught of tribute recordings and bands.

In the late 70s, Miles' great 60's Quintet reformed for a couple of tours, with Freddie Hubbard in the trumpet chair. In fact, they did it again in the early 90's with Wallace Roney. It was nice to hear Ron and Tony and Herbie and Wayne play together, but they certainly didn't capture the magic of the original Quintet. In fact Miles himself was skeptical. On a PBS documentary done in 1988, he thought it futile to try and go back and recreate the past. "That shit sounds tired now," he felt. It was music of its time.

Then there’s the reissues. Although I am an active participant in the purchase of classic recordings thanks to the availability of just about every Jazz recording made, on CD, today’s musicians find themselves in constant competition with past masters, as well as with their own past recordings. In fact, KIND OF BLUE is still the best selling Jazz recording of the year.

But there is great new music being played and recorded all over the planet.

This past Friday night, I was lucky enough to be at Birdland to hear Dave Holland’s Quintet, and his new Big Band. This was certainly not a night of slavish adherence to the past. Yet the music, as electrifying and contemporary as anything I’ve heard in the past decade, was clearly based in the tradition of excellence embodied by the masters.

Mr. Holland’s working group, with Robin Eubanks on trombone, Chris Potter on tenor and soprano saxophones, Steve Nelson on vibes and Billy Kilson on drums, are nothing short of magnificent, playing with uncompromising dynamism over a wide variety of musical terrain: modal, swing, post-bop, funk, even calypso. The level of musicianship here is simply staggering, each musician possessing a mastery and individual voice worthy of the Greek Gods. Their group dynamic, which comes from playing together consistently, is the essence of great art, the sum being greater than its parts. In the past few years, Dave Holland’s Quintet has time and again presented a fresh alternative to the decaying recreations of the neo-boppers and tribute trespassers, releasing two must hear recordings, Prime Directive and Points of View, and performing globally.

Mr. Holland’s big band was born last year, when he did a series of concerts at the Montreal Jazz Festival, in a variety of configurations, and the thirteen piece group features his own compositions and arrangements. Mr. Holland is perhaps the most accomplished pure Jazz composer among bassists, after Charles Mingus and the set I heard had a freshness and an air of excitement that left me totally rejuvenated.

Undoubtedly the finest Jazz bassist of his generation, Dave Holland's contributions to America's homegrown art form have gone far beyond his standing as an instrumentalist. And although he doesn’t have a chorus of bootlicking kowtowers to sing his praises, his musical message, which looks forward and is offered without compromise, is being heard.

Funny thing about the truth--somehow, it does manage slip though the cracks. Occasionally.

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