George

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George Carlin’s birthday was a little over one week ago. He would have been 74. Now, I strive to keep this a music-oriented blog despite my other deep interests (politics/current events and stand-up comedy). However, Carlin is worth mentioning here because he’s artistically relevant to one of this blog’s recurring topics: aesthetic authenticity.

Without getting too deep into it, I consider him to be one of the greatest minds and voices of the twentieth century. Seriously. (I have all of the HBO specials and most of the albums to prove it. 🙂 ) Yes, he was “a comic.” But he was also so much more. Though there were strains of it when we started out in the 50s, eventually his material was more akin to philosophical, linguistic, satirical, and political essays peppered with jokes, as opposed to a series of one-liners mixed in with anecdotes. It didn’t matter whether or not you agreed with his point of view; the goal was to open the listener’s mind to new ways of analyzing topics or issues. This is something he was very consciously aware of, as evidenced in this interview, during which he says he eventually considered himself an essayist who performed.

Last year I read Last Words (his autobiography, published posthumously), and was struck by just how obsessed he was throughout his career with identifying and honing what he called “my authentic voice.” This of course is arguably the primary dilemma for an artist – truly expressing oneself. Whether you’re a fan or not, this book serves as a masterclass of sorts in authenticity. In case you’re unfamiliar, Carlin started out as a very straight-laced, mainstream, and commercially successful act in the 1950s.The 70s, however, saw Carlin reintroduce himself as the real George: hippie, counter-culture provocateur, and social critic. Two excerpts from the cleverly-titled chapter “The Long Epiphany” wonderfully distill this process:

1. “But mainly I had to explain myself to me. What had been pulling at me all this time, dragging me away from the old approach and toward the new, was the lack of my voice in my work. The absence of me in my act. I would say, ‘I wasn’t in my act. I was all these other people.’ And I would introduce them all, the old familiar characters, one by one, to make the point.” (p. 146)

2. “I would no longer deal with subjects that were expected of me, in ways which had been determined by others. I would determine the ways. My own experiences would be the subject. I went into myself, I discovered my own voice and I found it authentic. So, apparently, did the audiences in the coffeehouses I was now playing. And while I was back to making no money, when they laughed now it felt great. I was getting votes of confidence for the path I had taken. They were reaffirming something that I felt and now was able to think through as well as feel. It meant I was right. Which strengthened my resolve to carry this through.” (p. 152)

[Note: Imagine my surprise, and joy, in reading Dave Liebman’s endorsement of this book for similar reasons in his May newsletter a few weeks ago.]

These words ring as true for me now as they did upon first read. It’s great – necessary – to have influences, and it’s equally important to emulate them. However, eventually one must move beyond his/her influences and training to develop the inner voice that’s dying to get out. I implied this in an earlier post, and hope to delve deeper into the topic at some point. For now, though, I simply want to highlight George…

I was fortunate to see Carlin perform live three times. It was very interesting for me, both as a fan and as a performer, because all three performances were in preparation for what became his final HBO special, It’s Bad For Ya (2008). For context, the actual special was recorded March 1, 2008. The performances I saw were as follows: January 2007 (Ann Arbor, MI), July 2007 (Las Vegas, NV), March 2008 (East Lansing, MI). I note this because I was able to see the material develop from scattered notes to a scripted, seamless 60+ minute performance. It was a tremendous peek into Carlin’s creative process. Some highlights:
January 2007: He informally took the stage with a stack of loose notes and papers and prefaced this show with (I’m paraphrasing): “You’ll have to excuse me, as this won’t be like the shows you’re used to seeing on HBO and hearing on record. I have a whole new hour of material, in no particular order, and I don’t know just how any of them work just yet. This is more of a test drive, but I promise you’ll laugh.” AND I DID! That night was one of the hardest I’ve ever laughed. But he was true to his word – it was more akin to alternative comedy than Carlin’s traditional style of rapid-fire storytelling and joke-telling. He would take a paper from his stack, remind himself of the joke/outline, extemporize, then move on to the next note.
July 2007: No notes; a cold open with no disclaimer. Six months later, the material was now in its third or fourth draft. You could tell that there was a set order and that he was working out the rhythm. Also, a number of topics were dropped, while a few new ones had been incorporated. Just as funny. 🙂
March 2008: By this time, the HBO special had been taped/aired (live). Carlin’s trademark style had returned, and the show was by then a well-oiled machine. The material’s order had once again been changed, but the overall content remained unchanged. Final draft, no further revision. Vintage GC.

So, a few nuggets of GC info and memories. To close, I’d like to highlight arguably my favorite Carlin essay (as I’m sure he considered it). It addresses his favorite topic: language. Specifically, it’s an all-out assault on one of his worst enemies: euphemisms. Part of his obsession with language was that because we think in language, then the better and clearer we use language the better we can convey our thoughts. I’ve gone through it probably 100 times (the live performance from 1990’s Doin’ It Again is priceless) and find it just as funny and thought-provoking as the first.

George Carlin: Euphemistic Language

*Update*: Here’s the live version form Doin’ It Again (slightly NSFW):

New Listens: Recent hit parade

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Holiday travel and a busy start to 2011 really slowed down the New Listen posts. However, I’ve still been acquiring and absorbing all kinds of new albums the last few months. Instead of giving a blow-by-blow account of each one, I thought I’d simply list them in “autobiographical” order (to reference the great Rob Gordon in High Fidelity). They’re all quite good, and some of them – notably Anniversary!, Mostly Coltrane, and King of Limbs, among others – were instant classics in my library.

I’m often curious as to what others are listening to, which is why I wanted to offer something about the new music I’ve acquired over the last few months. Hopefully, now that I’m a bit “caught up” in that department, the New Listens will resume regular appearances. 🙂 Feel free to email me for any specific descriptions/questions.

Dave Matthews Band: Live Trax Vol. 19: Vivo Rio – 09.30.08, Rio De Janeiro, Brazil
Dave Matthews Band: Live in New York City & The Big Apple
Stan Getz: Anniversary!
Herbie Hancock: Fat Albert Rotunda
Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band: The E Street Shuffle
Air: Moon Safari
Dave Liebman: As Always
Dave Liebman: Negative Space
Grateful Dead: American Beauty
Grateful Dead: From the Mars Hotel
Grateful Dead: Truckin’ Up To Buffalo (Live 07.04.89)
Trio Mediaeval: Stella Maris
Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers: Into The Great Wide Open
Steve Kuhn Trio w. Joe Lovano: Mostly Coltrane
Elton John: The Big Picture
Dave Liebman: Lookout Farm 1974/75 (Deluxe Edition) – box set
Dave Liebman: Quest Live 1988 + 1991 (Deluxe Edition) – box set
Jenny & Johnny: I’m Having Fun Now
Jeff Coffin: Commonality
Nine Inch Nails: Ghosts I-IV
Nine Inch Nails: Pretty Hate Machine
Radiohead: King of Limbs
Grant Green: Grantstand
Rilo Kiley: Take Offs and Landings
Smashing Pumpkins: Teargarden by Kaleidyscope (gradual, as released…)

Evolution

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A few weeks ago I finally picked up Radiohead’s quickly-(in)famous King of Limbs. I’d been wanting to give it a listen since its initial (surprise) digital release. (However, being a stickler for always wanting a hard copy, I opted to patiently wait until the physical release.) My primary interest stemmed from my being a longtime fan. Another part of me, though, wanted to see what all the hubbub was about – Facebook and the Twitterverse were blowing up with very mixed reviews. Most critics lauded the effort, with fans going in many directions. Friends and colleagues were in quite the tizzy. Six weeks later I finally got my chance – I love it! I gave it two careful listens that first day, and a number of others since, and my fondness has only increased.

But this isn’t a “New Listen” review…

I’m continually amazed by fans’ feeling betrayed by an artist’s (in this case, band’s) natural evolution. (Yes, I’m certainly aware that everyone can’t be a total fan of everything, but this concerns active fans.) Of course, an artist can unexpectedly change course – for reasons personal, commercial, or otherwise – and cause an uproar, the response to which could be perfectly understandable. However, often times, when discussing those heavies with long careers and extended catalogues, change is almost always inevitable. In fact, my personal Top 5 – TOOL, Dave Matthews Band, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Smashing Pumpkins – is united by their collective tendency to evolve over time. Some had smoother transitions than others – TOOL and Trane are/were smoother overall than Miles – but each one’s arc can be heard as one sonic narrative, with each new phase or “sound” including both an element of the “core” sound and an aspect of picking up where they last left off (even if it’s somewhat of a reaction to a previous approach).

Like the aforementioned Top 5, Radiohead also continually evolves. Succinctly describing their most recent release, I would say: King of Limbs is Radiohead’s next logical step after In Rainbows. Now, that doesn’t really mean anything to the passive fan, but those familiar with the whole Radiohead catalogue should understand that this denotes: more effects and electronics, less traditional instrumentation and form, more experimentation. Radiohead started with a definitive early-90s anthem (“Creep”), pivoted with a slightly more progressive but wildly commercially successful album (OK Computer), then forcefully proceeded down the avenue of electronic experimentation (Kid A through present). I could understand someone enjoying OK Computer in somewhat of a vacuum and being dumbfounded by King or even Amnesiac (these two are probably my favorites, FYI). But, if you were to listen to all of their albums in succession, you would most likely hear a single band slowly transforming.

A primary grievance is that the new album is too down-tempo. Did anyone really expect an anthemic rocker after the last few albums? Seriously? Many await another OK Computer. I can understand that to a certain extent, however that was their third album. King of Limbs is their EIGHTH studio album. They’re far beyond that stage, for good or ill. For those who felt betrayed, the “betrayal” occurred not in 2011, but rather gradually over the last decade. Similarly, Miles and Trane continually evolved. Those who expected Coltrane to play “Locomotion” in ’66 or ’67 were gravely mistaken, and likely walked out of performances and stopped buying his albums. He had moved beyond the blues – moved beyond swing – by that point. And was it that he no longer liked “that old stuff”? No. He simply transcended all earlier endeavors and was progressing beyond jazz to something greater. Returning to “Syeeda’s Song Flute” would have been a stifling distraction. The same is happening here.

Art, and the artists who create it, evolve. Just like everything else. You don’t have to like everything an artist does, not by a long shot. However, at the same token, don’t be surprised if, after 5 or 10 or 20 years, they have moved on to a different place.

DSO: Conflicted, Supportive, Rather Embarrassed

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(Beware: quasi-rambling free-write below.)

For those of you with at least one foot in the classical music arena, this season’s drama surrounding the Detroit Symphony Orchestra should be old hat by now. Being some divorced from the debate since moving to TX, I’m by no means an expert in this topic. Briefly:

• Because of budget strains, orchestra management demanded a pay cut for the orchestra’s contract renewal
• The orchestra refused the offer, negotiations ensued, the orchestra went on strike at the end of Summer 2010
• Negotiations continued; performances were initially canceled individually as their respective dates approached, with the remaining season canceled outright in its entirety a few weeks ago
• Just a couple days back, the entire percussion section quit
• Today, the orchestra suggested arbitration, leaving the situation in temporary limbo

NOTE: The current, unfortunate culture war dogfight in Congress over NEA, etc. funding is a completely separate issue. (Some have been confusing the two.)

Again, I don’t know every detail of the past 6 months. I can say that my initial reactions were mostly sympathetic for the DSO and the city of Detroit. DSO is an institution, one of the few orchestras in the country in which a musician can make a comfortable, respected living. Not only is it Michigan’s top orchestra, but it’s also a top tier ensemble under the baton of a world-class conductor (Leonard Slatkin). Detroit has suffered immensely, especially in the last few years, so this was just more salt on the wound. The Motor City has such a rich musical history, and this cultural blow was the last thing the city needed. What’s next, the cancelation of the Detroit Jazz Festival?

Note: I said mostly sympathetic…

I don’t claim to represent “blue collar culture” or anything of the such, but I almost always try to keep the “other”/”non-musician” view in mind. So many musicians, especially classical, tend to have a narrow with-us-or-against-us view of music and art as a whole. It’s disturbing, and frankly sad. A big reason for my focus on Music Appreciation and working with “non-majors” (gasp!) is that I’d like to serve as a “Goodwill Ambassador” of sorts from the “arteratti.” (“Hey, we’re not all bad. See?”) As I tell every student every semester, classical music is the popular music of yester-century. Music is music.

In classical music’s defense, part of what sets it apart is the intense amount of training required. Virtuosity is key, more so than in a number of other styles. The average professional pop/rock band has 4-5 capable, (likely) primarily self-taught musicians. The average professional symphony orchestra has 80+ highly skilled musicians, each having incessantly practiced his/her 10,000+ hours. (These hours were both free and paid for in the university/conservatory.) As a result, it’s reasonable for professional, trained musicians to be compensated well for their time and talent. (Any reader of this blog should know I champion paying for music, which includes paying the musicians.)

BUT…

Money:
Taken from today’s NYT ArtsBeat article:
“In its most recent offer management set base minimum pay at $80,200, rising to $81,200 by the third year of the three-year contract. The musicians would each have the option of earning an additional $7,100 a year if they chose to take part in extra duties like community and educational concerts… The minimum salary in the last contract was $104,650…”

Here is where I start to roll my eyes. Yes, I completely understand: a ~20% pay cut stings regardless of tax bracket. However, what many “non-majors” may not grasp is that this seemingly full-time salary is for a less-than-full-time job. (See above paragraph — part of musicians’ high pay is to compensate for the high skill level & training.) They’re not rehearsing/performing 40 hours a week. And they’re not always practicing their concert music 40 hours/week either. A big portion of an orchestra’s seasonal repertoire is just a recycling of the typical symphonic Top 40. (Hey, you need to give the audience something familiar now and again.)

Furthermore, this salary is not the entirety of each musician’s yearly income. Consider this: most professional musicians also teach – private studios, university faculty, guest artist masterclasses – and play other freelance/steady gigs on the side with other ensembles. (Note that the “additional $7100” mentioned above is probably less than each musician makes yearly doing those same tasks on their own as freelancers.) For some musicians, this recent $100K was likely a majority of their yearly income. For others, it could have been half. Seriously. 20% is one thing. 20% of XX% is another.

CELEBRITY/DIGNITY:
Given all the training, specialization, sacrifice, etc. mentioned above, musicians aren’t breaking their backs. (Unless they have poor posture, from which I used to suffer.) It’s not manual labor. We’re lucky to create art for a living. Not everyone gets to express for money.

I’ve had a number of summer jobs in the past. One was construction, specifically concrete. That was back-breaking labor. Horrible. So was fast food. So when I played “full time” (i.e., playing 2-3 hours each night) on a cruise ship for twice the pay of all the onboard manual labor (i.e., working 10+ hours each day, 7 days a week, 6 months at a stretch), I felt humbled. I had no room to complain. None. I was improving my jazz chops and getting paid to travel. A number of the singers in the department (who performed 3 nights/week), however, felt different, and regularly complained for higher pay and bigger spreads backstage. Sick of hearing it, I ultimately exploded at a department meeting, asking why they felt so entitled. How could they, in their right minds, think they deserve so much when they “worked” so little? It didn’t hit home with them, but it’s stuck with me ever since. The diva mentality runs rampant in our musician culture, and it’s partially to blame for the layperson’s perception of musicians as lazy with a false sense of entitlement.

DSO drama may not be national news, but this country’s near-incomprehensible economic crisis has been for years. Most everyone has sacrificed, whether they wanted to or not. Layoffs, foreclosures, constant ~9% unemployment, lost wealth, and seemingly crumbling middle class aren’t a good recipe for organization reliant on public donations (read: symphony orchestras). Add to that, most orchestras have seen their audiences age and plateau/dwindle in recent years. There is simply not enough money as there used to be, and every needs to tighten their belts. Economists aren’t using the term “new normal” for their health. No magic math will solve this issue. If an orchestra is to continue, then the musicians better tighten their cummerbunds as well. SHARED SACRIFICE is a large part to the solution to not only the orchestra’s problems, but the country’s as a whole. (What if – GASP! – fewer snacks were included in the backstage spread??? Or none?!?!?!? Madness!!!)

—

I obviously have no solution, large or small, to the DSO’s problems. Or any orchestra for that matter. However I do know that when I read much of my peers’ quasi-partisan support of the DSO, I’m only half-nodding in agreement. The other half is wincing in embarrassment. It’s time we all descend the ivory tower and put ourselves in context. Maybe then musicians would start to gain more support…

Primary Sources

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I spent most of January in a bit of a musical rut. Practicing was a challenge, I barely listened to any recordings (new or old), and I could hardly think about music without getting at least mildly annoyed. Part of it probably had to do with getting musically overloaded around Christmas. I acquired and listened to so many new recordings between the end of November and beginning of January that I just needed to give my ears and mind a rest. Also I had few things to play for, which definitely worked against me. My proactive reaction to this a couple weeks ago was to “get back to basics,” starting with listening. So what did this saxophonist listen to to stoke the embers? Yep, you guessed it: Smashing Pumpkins.

…?

Over the course of about a week, I listened to almost the entire SP catalogue (I tried to not be too completist about it…). That constituted the bulk of my listening, with a smattering of other 90s bands sprinkled in. Ah, good old 90s rock – you really can’t beat it. While it wasn’t entirely conscious, it took me about 10-14 days to listen to anything remotely saxophonic or “art music”-esque. On the surface one may consider these two disparate groups (the aforementioned rockers & sax/contemporary styles). However, just a couple days into this regimen I was happily practicing and brainstorming, ready to forge ahead once again.

I did not listen to the above bands/styles to remind myself of why I play saxophone. Rather, I listened as a reminder of why I started to become passionate about music in the first place. Smashing Pumpkins was the first group I made a deep connection to. To an adolescent Mike Teager, SP was music. The incredible variety on Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness (1995) showed me that a rock band could be multi-dimensional, and that the musical possibilities could be endless. Gradually, this led to TOOL and Dave Matthews Band, then to Miles Davis and John Coltrane, and also to the classical realm (Wagner & 20th Century music, specifically), etc. This lineage continues to expand, right up through present day, but it’s always healthy to return to the source. (Though, I must say that 16 years later I’ll still put Mellon Collie up against any masterpiece in another style. There’s enough diversity and nuance to busy any musician, from the amateur to the academic.) For too long, I feel like I got a bit lost in secondary and tertiary sources – artists and groups I later discovered through a long aesthetic evolution. After a while, it got to the point that I lost touch with those original, primary sources of inspiration. It reminded me of a great quote by Oliver Nelson:

“…I finally had broken through and realized that I would have to be true to myself, to play and write what I think is vital and, most of all, to find my own personality and identity. This does not mean that a musician should reject and shut things out. It means that he should learn, listen, absorb and grow but retain all the things that comprise the identity of the individual himself.”
– From the liner notes to Blues and the Abstract Truth (1961)

Now I feel armed and ready for a couple recording projects I’ve recently taken up, as well as some gigs coming down the pike. (Note: of course the recording endeavors also played an integral role in my rejuvenation.) Concurrently with my mental recharging, I thought a lot about personal sound/style, what that means to me, and how to describe it. (I’ve always had an abstract but consistent idea of what it is I’m after, but describing it in words is another story.) Hopefully I’ll start to document that process in some sort of ongoing series here in the relatively near future. Until then, I’ll be in the woodshed…