I have just started a course on jazz appreciation. The main reason is to understand what doing an online course is like nowadays – I used to design (ish) online courses as part of my professional work, but I haven’t done so for seven years or so, and David suggested it would be a good way to understand how MOOCs – “massive, open online courses” – actually work.
They are several friends taking the course, and we communicate through a Facebook group.
Fred wrote a blog post about his experience getting into jazz, and I thought it would be a good idea to do the same: reading Fred’s post reminded me of exploring the music, thirty five years ago.
I grew up in a household that listened to jazz. I didn’t have any choice. My father was a jazz fan. He woo-ed my mother with Charlie Parker. I didn’t really like jazz as a teenager: once I really got into music, following my brother in my early teens, I was into pomp-prog rock. The first rock gig I went to was Emerson, Lake and Palmer, as was the second. I was into loud music, fast drums, exploding stages. And guitars.
I wasn’t into jazz.
But I couldn’t avoid it.
But the first gig I went to wasn’t ELP. It was Duke Ellington, at the Hammersmith Odeon. A search on teh interweb tells me it was October 1971, a year before the ELP gig. I have a strong memory of the Ellington band playing, Paul Gonzales standing in a spotlight playing tenor. My father took my brother and me into the pub in the interval and introduced us to the band; so perhaps I met Gonzales or Harry Carney, or Johnny Coles, or… (Of course, the way I remember it, I met Coleman Hawkins. Except that he wasn’t there: he had died two years before this gig…)
That is the first gig I know I went to. There were probably earlier gigs I was dragged to by my parents. We saw the Brotherhood of Breath a couple of years later at an open air gig at the V&A. I hated it. It might have been August and warm, but when the sun went down it was cold. A noxious teenager, I didn’t want to be there.
My father and mother holidayed at the Nice jazz festival, and took me twice. (They went several times before and after; my father recorded many of the sets on a portable reel-to-reel recorder; my brother has digitised some of them.) I went in 1976 and 1977. I saw Mingus; he lambasted the audience for being white, looking at my father. (My father had worked on the publicity for Mingus’ autobiography, “Beneath the Underdog”, though whether he could see my father in the crowd or not is open to conjecture.) I hated Mingus.
This is deeply ironic. Much as I love – really love! – the Brotherhood of Breath, I adore the music Mingus made, and I feel privileged to have been able to see him.
At Nice I also saw the Basie big band, Art Blakey, Dizzy Gillespie, Gerry Milligan, Zoot Simms Clark Terry, Harry Edison, Illinois Jacquet, Dave Brubeck, Earl Hines… And those are just the guys I can remember.
But, frankly, at the age of seventeen, a week of jazz a year was enough. I wasn’t a fan.
And then I went to university.
I took all my records. I had many rock records. By then, punk had come and gone. I had lots of post punk, lots of prog. I took the few classical records my parents had – Stravinsky, Holst. No jazz. I didn’t like jazz.
But that first term at university, whilst I might not have liked jazz, I certainly missed it. So for Christmas, I asked my father for dune jazz LPs.
He gave me four. I still have them, and listen regularly to the music on three of them (not the L.Ps themselves – I have CDs of all of them); two if them are amongst my favourite jazz albums, and the third is not far off (the last I don’t really rate, and never play).
These records were…
Mingus – Ah Um.
Miles Davis – Workin’ & Steamin’ (a double)
Dizzy Gillespie & Charlie Parker – Live at Massey Hall. (With Mingus, Max Roach and Bud Powell. An amazing band. Just the thought of it makes me want to shout!)
Benny Goodman – Live at Carnegie Hall. (This is the one I never listen to. It just isn’t my scene.)
These are all classic records. They’re famous. Rightly so.
The Miles record – a two-fer, two LPs bundled together – is classic jazz. Indeed, it is the classic quintet – Miles, Coltrane, Paul Chambers, Red Garland, Philly Joe Jones. If people think of jazz, this is probably the music they think of. It is great music.
Mingus Ah Um is just immense. I went from disliking Mingus to being a fan. The first three tracks go from jumping to years to jumping. I had hated Mingus, but now I was a convert. This is a glorious record. “Goodbye Pork Pie Hat” is my all-time favourite tune. I want it played at my funeral.
The Parker-Gillespie record is an interesting one. It is very exciting – still. But aside from being full of bebop standards – “Night in Tunisia”, “Salt Peanuts” and so on – what I come back to are actually the trio tracks with Powell, Mingus and Roach. Beneath the horns’ hyperbole, the rhythm section were amazing.
After this, I set off exploring on my own. The first jazz record I bought was another Miles Davis LP, because I thought I knew where I was with Miles. Oh yes. I bought the “Birth of the Cool”. All my cool evaporated. There I was, thinking I knew jazz because I had a few records, and knowing… But this was totally different. I quickly learnt that there was a lot to learn. (Still, it is a pretty cool record to be the first jazz LP I bought!) I realised what a chameleon Miles was – starting in bebop, developing cool (apparently easier on his style of playing. Allegedly) – and I later got into modal (“Kind of Blue” – the album that people who have only one jazz album have) and then jazz-rock. Miles was my springboard into jazz – from there I could work backwards and forwards. Everyone seemed to have played with Miles, so I discovered a lot.
The next jazz record I bought was a late Duke Ellington – “Paris Jazz Party”. Not a great record – I now have many many Ellington recordings, and adore Ellington. But I also discovered that jazz can be a great soundtrack to seduction (what? What?!!). I was hooked.