A 21st Century Prediction and Manifesto on Jazz (American Improvised Music)

It wasn't very long ago that I stumbled across an article by Yahoo's Kerry Justich entitled "The return of dumb things: Why young people are ditching their smartphones for mp3 players and digital cameras" and it got me thinking "hmm..."

Obviously I cannot speak on the world as a whole, but as an American, it is apparent to me that there is a recent fixation on the idea of digital minimalism here in the states. We are more connected AND disconnected to each other than ever before in human history. And with the rise in AI technology and machine learning, you can separate most Americans into two categories: the people that are hyper-fixated on how fast we are technologically advancing and are at least a little bit terrified of the future, and then there's everyone else: those who are so deep into doom-scrolling, gaming, and other forms of dopaminergic screentime that they're "lost in the sauce"

My fellow Gen-Z'ers do not remember a world before the invention of the iPhone, and a lot of us (I'd argue the majority) are yearning for real connection to something. Between young minds gravitating towards polaroid cameras, Gameboy emulators and vinyl records exists an innate desire to unplug. While most would simply write it off as a short-lived nostalgia trend akin to the return of tie-dye and bell bottom jeans, I see it as an inevitable result of a decades-long pendulum swing. One that is currently cementing a vibrant culture of 21st century hippies and media junkies. And in the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic, this desire for genuine connectivity is only that much stronger.

Now, what does this have to do with jazz? Well, since this article is partially (if not entirely) about jazz music, I am both permitted and obliged to bridge these two concepts together. I want to start with this food for thought and then get into the historic appeal of jazz.

We're coming up on the century anniversary of the invention of American Improvised Music, or "Jazz" as it's colloquially referred. It encompasses everything from the sweetest Louis Armstrong melodies, the experiments of Thelonious Monk and Charlie Parker that surfaced during the Bebop enlightenment, the musings of Miles Davis and John Coltrane, the protest driven avant-garde pioneered by Eric Dolphy, Charles Mingus and Ornette Coleman, as well as modern and post-modern sounds of today such as Robert Glasper and Thundercat.

But ever since the 1980's we've been seeing a growing narrative of Jazz's inevitable death, per se. Meaning that the music has been claiming a lower and lower market share of the recorded music industry, and the industry itself has not evolved past the collectively agreed-upon business model that existed for multiple decades before: Artists sign a contract to give a majority share of the record sales and other royalties to the record/publishing company, and the artist in question receives an advance that eventually needs to be recouped by the label without any change in equity. In other words, this is if I mortgaged my house, paid it off in 10 years, but then the bank still owns my house after paying it off. And in the live performance space there are fewer opportunities for jazz artists to express themselves authentically while getting enough money to pay their bills. On top of that there is this perception in the mainstream of jazz either being highly harmonically complex music or boring elevator music, neither of which is correct. And I don't think the culture of jazz elitism and gatekeeping is justified given that it's harder than ever to make money as a musician.

We need to get back to what makes "jazz" (in my opinion, American Improvised Music) inherently magical compared to other forms of music. If someone were to ask me to describe "jazz" I would say it's the process of taking the music, making it yours, and then giving it back, which creates a positive feedback loop between members of the band. And in a culture that values the expressions of ideas and instant collaboration between people of different cultures, spontaneous yet intentional improvisation between multiple skilled artists can represent humanity at its finest. Audiences are way smarter than we give credit, and we don't need to play familiar songbook standards the same way every time to appeal to a crowd. In my case, some of the best performances where the audience cheered the loudest and had the best time were the ones where myself and the rest of the band got the most experimental. It gives the audience a chance to go on this journey with the musicians in front of them.

Now going back to my earlier point about today's new-age hippies, I believe this exact consumer demographic could save jazz. Similar to replacing Spotify with CDs or buying a camcorder, watching live jazz offers an opportunity to unplug and get locked into the moment in front of you. Nowadays when fans go to watch their favorite artists in concert, they have to shell out hundreds if not thousands of dollars just to see their face on a stage hundreds of feet away from them, and the majority of what they hear is pre-prepared audio anyway. The audience knows this and accepts it, and I'm not suggesting that we should boycott this style of performance art, rather we are obligated to suggest an alternative. When you go to a jazz club, there's almost no pre-prepared audio and if there is, it's very minimal and highly intentional. All of what you hear is being made right in front of you by the master musicians holding the instruments.

And this isn't just a pipe dream. We don't have to force jazz down the throats of our potential audience. They're already on their way to the clubs and stadiums. In my own personal circle, my sister, a New Yorker who is a big Taylor Swift fan, found herself exploring New York's eclectic and historic jazz venues without any recommendations from myself or anyone musicians she knows. Now keep in mind when I was younger and much more naive, I tried to preach jazz's greatness to my family by showing them some of the records I loved. Of course it was met with contempt and misunderstanding and I've made peace with my parents preferring Rascal Flats over Thelonious Monk. But in my sister's case she stumbled into an old bar called Mezzrow where a random trumpet quartet was playing. She grabbed a table with her friends, had a few drinks, and in this small, darkly lit room watched four masters work their magic right in front of them. She later relayed to me how it felt very meditative and euphoric, that it was one of the best experiences she's had in New York since moving there a year ago.

So how do we collectively bring back this music we call jazz? Well we've found our target audience, that's step one. Step two is marketing, and in my opinion we should focus less on marketing the album release, where artists won't make money off of streaming anyway, and more on selling the live jazz experience. We need to get ordinary people to show up, people who like digital cameras, painting classes, meditating, vinyl records, you get the picture.

The artist in question needs to work on their set that way s/he can tell their story effectively in 1-2 hours. And they need to practice getting comfortable with their band and playing with one another that way the crowd can walk away and feel that power that jazz can offer. And after the set is over, the artist in question can sell CDs and vinyl records to their CD and vinyl collecting fans. Now instead of .05 cents made off of a single listen, you've made $15-25 dollars per sale.

An artist that repeats this model over a multiple-set tour can change their lives forever. A mass collection of like-minded artists could revive jazz and breathe new life into it. Downstream of all this is a world where musicians are free to focus on their craft and spreading their message effectively while displaying their mastership, as opposed to today where artists are forced to spread themselves thin just to make ends meet, resulting in half-baked records and performance concepts.

I want to end on some food for thought regarding the next evolutionary step of American Improvised Music. We as artists and musicians need to have a legitimate discussion about ownership. There is no point in doing any of what I just mentioned above if the artist signs away a percentage of everything they make. The music industry is highly exploitative and it prays off the desperation of the "starving artist". We need to own our rights in full. We need to open our own publishing companies. We need to operate the live venues, open our own marketing agencies, record labels, distributors, and every other facet of our business so we can become self-sufficient.

Jazz above all represents freedom. And before we can help our audience experience freedom, we need to free ourselves.