Artie Shaw, one of the most successful bandleaders of the Swing Era, was quite public about his reason for walking away from his music career: the music business. While he still loved making music (“It’s better than sex!”), the “business of music” is what ultimately turned him away.

Lately I’ve been struggling to make music with some of my colleagues simply because of extra-musical issues. When we’re playing, and focused on nothing else but our musical dialogue, we can’t be beat. However, when it comes to any sort of logistics: scheduling a rehearsal, booking a gig, advertising, or simply deciding what to play, there is constant conflict. In fact, at a recent gig in which the actual performance piece was quite inspiring, everything else about the gig fell apart and completely overshadowed any musical accomplishment. I later came to regret going through with the show at all.

There’s the old adage that any activity is 98% concentration and 2% perspiration. When it comes to performing, one can similarly say that it’s generally 98% logistics and 2% music. Again, going back to Dave Liebman: a jazz musician is not only a performer, but his/her own agent, promoter, secretary and treasurer. This blog and corresponding website are perfect examples. Not only do I focus my attention on my instrument, but also on maintaining my website, booking gigs, ordering business cards, networking and advertising.

Over the years, I’ve learned that not only is it important to collaborate with others who are musically and aesthetically in a similar place as myself, but also people who are aligned with my work ethic. Failing to give equal focus and attention to the business end will easily compromise any musical endeavor.

Alas, the first post. “Patient Zero,” as it were. I very much look forward to the development of this blog and the many topics I intend to cover, all of which will relate to the arenas of performance, musicology, and/or education. Though I will likely continue to revisit certain topics regularly, expect no sequential order. Some entries will be brief, others verbose. The blog is meant to be impulsive, just so I can get my ideas down on some virtual paper. This leads me to my first blurb: fundamentals.

I wear many hats as a performer alone. Since I was a wee lad, I’ve loved popular music (used in its broadest, most academic sense). For the last eleven-plus years, I’ve been classically trained (resulting in a B.M. and M.M. in classical saxophone performance), and I’ve been a “working” jazz musician for six. I love all three equally, both as a listener and a performer, and the perspective it’s given me is something I’ve really considered an asset throughout my musical life.

Last night I had a gig with The Elevator Conspiracy (my Lansing-based band), a group steeped in exploratory improvisations, rock, and, supposedly, lounge. Watching the opening band – a well-established Ann Arbor act – I noticed what’s a common theme throughout many “local” popular music groups: a lack of fundamentals. In this group’s case, it was most glaring in their obvious lack of rhythmic accuracy. (A solid rhythmic foundation is key in most popular music.) Whether it was the drummer and guitarist missing unison hits or the singer completely missing the beat when playing auxiliary percussion, the rhythmic inaccuracies were always at the fore. While this isn’t necessarily an attack on this particular band (though it doesn’t help their cause), it speaks to a larger trend in much popular music. Conversely, classical and jazz styles – even on an amateur level – require a degree of technical virtuosity to convince the listener, which includes a focus on fundamentals.

Yes, I know that many of these bands are trying to convey a message of some sort, but how can one properly communicate without the tools with which to speak? As jazz saxophonist, composer and pedagogue Dave Liebman states in an episode of Jazz Video Podcasts, “you can’t begin to think about executing something…that’s in your imagination or in your ear on the bandstand, it has to have already been covered in your practicing somewhere.” (Lieb is a heavyweight, and a major source of inspiration for me; I’m sure I’ll be coming back to him in future posts.)

Long story short: last night’s band’s message was largely lost on me, primarily due to their lack of fundamentals. Instead of thinking “that’s interesting,” I thought “get a metronome.” A focus on fundamentals – in this case rhythm – would have yielded a convincing, and possibly inspiring, performance.