Jazz has been mis-understood since the beginning. In the early years,
jazz's spontaneity and lack of elaborate written music made it seem
less-than to scholars and classical music fanatics. Big band swing
raised questions of black and white at a time when segregation was still
very much the norm in America. In its early years this music wasn't
universally accepted: a turning point came when Benny Goodman's
Orchestra became the first jazz ensemble to headline at Carnegie Hall in
1938.
Next came my generation in the 1940s. I hate labels, because to me, good
jazz is good jazz. But when Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie picked up
the pace with music the critics called bebop (I was fortunate enough to
record with Parker), once again a new form of jazz was
mis-perceived--even by jazz players themselves. Swing band leader Eddie
Condon went so far as to call it "slop" in the pages of Downbeat, and
trumpeter Louis Armstrong said that, "First people get curious about it
just because it's new, but soon they get tired of it because it's no
good." Of course, we know now that Bird and Diz were among jazz's
creative giants.
Which brings me to this book. I think the timing is excellent, and the
need is great. What passes for "jazz" on the radio is nothing jazz-like
to those of us who have spent our lives playing the music. Along with
other forms of art and culture, music seems increasingly driven by what
appeals to the largest number of people, what sells.
Yet people can't appreciate something they don't know. Most people don't
know much about jazz. Children don't learn about it in school, they
don't play it in school bands because music programs have been cut all
over the country, and adults don't hear real jazz on the radio or read
much about it in the popular media.
But like I said, jazz has been misunderstood. Most every time I put on
some jazz for someone who doesn't know much about it, they are usually
impressed. The beat is irrestible. The melodies are beautiful. The
harmonies are intricate and intriguing, and the improvisations are
phenomenal feats of spontaneous composition.
Jazz for Dummies explains this rich American music in language everyone
can understand. It gives a friendly introduction to some of the most
original music in the world.
Open it to any page. Read a few paragraphs. Then play something off the
CD. If you don't find yourself infatuated enough to wade in
deeper...well, I guess you've earned the right to say, as the classic
Vernon Duke/Ira Gershwin tune does, "I Can't Get Started."
