If I were asked, ...’what is the most important
element of music?’, I would answer, ...’rhythm’. For actually,
you cannot have melody without rhythm. In order of importance,
first comes the rhythm or phrasing, second comes melody, third
the harmony.
I believe there are some artist’s like Billie
Holiday and Frank Sinatra, who don’t have the most perfect
singing voices, yet are so popular. I believe the key to their
popularity is their phrasing, or, the way Miles put it, the
space between the notes. That is what defines rhythm, the
space between the notes. Sometimes the most important thing
is not what note to sing, but when to sing it. Have you ever
heard someone with a trained voice that cannot sing in time,
or who’s phrasing is stilted? I have. No matter how good the
quality of their voice is, they won’t be nice to listen to
if they can’t phrase well.
Good
phrasing is an important thing for a musician to be aware
of, yet it’s one of the hardest things to teach. In that way
it’s similar to the concept of swing. Swing’s a bit hard to
describe but easy to feel. Good phrasing is a characteristic
which has nothing to do with speed or technique. Take for
example a comparison of McCoy Tyner and Grant Green. One plays
many notes and the other tends to play few notes, yet both
have great phrasing and feeling (check out Green’s album ‘
Matador’ with Tyner on piano).
Technique and speed are easy to explain and
practice, it’s simply an matter of repetition.
It’s
more than the notes
I once heard a drummer complain about Elvin Jones being sloppy.
I think that’s a pointless comment. Even if he were sloppy,
who cares if he can swing and play like that? Drum machines
are not sloppy at all but I won’t enjoy listening to one for
long! I have an album featuring Jim Hall and Art Farmer playing
with Steve Gadd on drums. While Steve doesn’t play any ‘mistakes’,
his precise style doesn’t swing enough to adequately accompany
Hall and Farmer. John Williams plays amazingly perfect guitar,
but when it comes to the very romantic Spanish styles, I prefer
someone who interprets the music more slowly, rubato, and
less machine like. Similarly there are a lot of guitar players
who play rock and blues very well but I don’t care for their
‘straight ahead’ jazz playing, even though they know well
what scales and notes to play. To me for example, Mike Stern
sounds better when he’s playing rock or fusion than when he
plays a standard like Stella by Starlight. Hendrix played
out of tune and sloppy at times, but I still love the expressiveness
of his playing. Who else could get the guitar to speak like
that? Grant Green plays very few notes and simple blues motifs,
but I love his feel and innate sense of rhythm.
Music is not an exact science (even science
is not an exact science!), and it’s better to play ‘ feelingly’
than ‘perfectly’.
Art
or craft?
I feel there is a subtle distinction between
an artist and a craftsman. A craftsman can be impressive,
dazzling one with technique honed through many hours of practice.
They can copy an artist’s style so well that it’s difficult
to tell the difference between the original artist and the
one who copies. One can easily respect the craftsman for their
patience and hard, hard work. Most artist’s, indeed, would
not choose to do what the craftsman does. But a craftsman
cannot do what the creative artist does. An artist blazes
their own path, usually in the face of opposition. Take Miles
Davis early in his career, surrounded by Bird, Diz, and Fats,
all players who could play higher and faster than him. But
instead of trying to copy them he developed his own unique
style. And when Coltrane came on the scene many criticized
him for his ‘raw’, grating sound. Once the reigning sax player
of the day heard Charlie Parker play tenor, and was quoted
as saying a tenor should not be played that fast. Their detractors
were many! But eventually all these musicians forged new ground
and became famous for the very thing they were criticized
for. That’s because true artist’s are always ‘ahead of their
time’, and it can take years for the audience at large to
recognize their genius. In fact, sometimes the artist is dead
before they get the recognition they deserve. How many of
our great classical composers died penniless and un-appreciated
because they had forged new ground?
To be a craftsman, one must copy. To be an artist, one must create.
Open
your ears
When
I was into rock music like Black Sabbath and Deep Purple,
I was given some different records to listen to, like Genesis
and Yes. The new music didn’t appeal to me at first. It took
some listening time before I liked the new records. The first
time I listened to Brahms Violin Concerto, I couldn’t get
into it, but I kept listening and now it’s one of my favorites.
This has helped teach me an important lesson. If you patiently
listen to any good music, putting your judgement aside, you
will learn to appreciate it. Humans are creatures of habit.
What we think is good or bad depends on what we’re used to.
Our ears are bombarded daily by computer generated ‘muzak’,
designed to appeal to the lowest common denominator. Giving
a Bela Bartok record to the average person is like giving
a great literary novel to someone who’s spent their whole
life reading trashy romance written by formula to sell, sell,
sell. They won’t have the patience for anything really good,
because they’re not used to it. But that problem can be overcome
through exposure. In order to really appreciate good music
you have to listen often, and patiently.
In
and out
I personally feel that
one can play ‘free’ only after they can play ‘inside’. I believe
it’s vital to understand and assimilate what came before us.
So, when it comes to avant-garde styles, I tend to prefer
those who arrived at that style through years of development,
like Trane and Miles, as opposed to those who pick up an instrument
and play whatever they feel without studying some of what
came before them. Sometimes the evolution to ‘freer’ forms
of improvisation is quite natural. This is because as we become
exposed to more music our ears become more ‘open’. Our definition
of dissonance broadens. What was dissonant years ago is now
melodious, what seemed a-rhythmic then, now makes sense. If
you love music, the music will draw you in and you will find
yourself being challenged. You will seek new sounds and new
expressions. What is ‘in’ or ‘out’ is a matter of perception
and training (though we are well reminded that ...’It don’t
mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing’...)!