March 2014

Dear Trying:

Look, when you transcribe a solo and try to play Coltrane or Bird's exact lines, you never do it as well as they did, right? Well guess what: those imperfections are the very "individual expression" you're looking for—they're your sound!

Obviously, this offers enormous opportunity for musical growth. Whether through inaccurate transcription or poor playing, the more mistakes you make, the more personalized your concept becomes!

Someday down the road, a student from the next generation may transcribe your flawed renditions of Trane and Bird's solos, and add his own mistakes. That, my friend, is a legacy; it's what keeps jazz moving forward, and might just cement your place in the music's storied evolution.

Dear Jim:

Of course the enlightened path is to act selflessly—to put others' needs before your own. So the answer should be obvious enough: Ask the pianist how much he needs, and tell him he can just pay you the rest.

Dear BBB:

Anyone can buy a jazz theory book and learn that a 12-bar blues doesn't have a bridge. That's jazz for dummies—and that's certainly not what these kids are shelling out the big tuition bucks for! They chose this teacher because they wanted to tap into her very personal take on form and harmony. The amazing thing to me is that the students are more open and receptive—dare I say, more jazz-minded—than you are. And yet they have to suffer your pedantic, by-the-rules accompaniment!

If you want to have a "theory talk" with her, you should set up a private meeting. Obviously there's a lot you can learn from her, and as you begin to approach her level she might just book you on an actual gig.

Imagine your shared joy when you jump to that bridge together! And what an incredible experience for you, to suddenly be playing part of a song you were convinced didn't even exist! That's called transcendence, BBB—when the mortal distractions of form, harmony and meter give way to a greater purpose.