Tag Archives: improvisation

jazzum backclash

bitwing bedbug housefly arcnet
kurt’s looseleaf tea rolled convenient
hard times coming four and more
‘s miles and coleman, hat stove in
screen door strained looking for peaches
can’t, recall, died in the poorhouse
out-of-come forsooth and spittle mood
john thomas passed out drooling
somewhere in the last hash chorus
i lost track; the extra change
is all you can spare for poor stella.

great danes dogging swedish meatballs
cremate the meaning and the d.s. al coda
parker’s lighthouse dimmed and mist-infested
no more than twice through for the maestro
’twas enough why more than necessary
evil improvisation masturbation
somewhere i lost track of structure
engineering
yardbirds caw give the heave ho
yardarms outstretched
enough of this can’t take it:
please take off
that album;
stick a fork in its ass,
it’s done.

1993

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Counterpoint: Domestic Strife and Miles ’64

A flurry of words assaults the ear
as she storms back in the room,
alto voice filling the space
left by the withering blast
of the horn; the false lull breaks

as the drum, relentless, kicks
forward the time, and her growl
bites off the bar viciously,
saying, listen close and learn –
you don’t know my opinion.

No, no, that’s my quick response,
block chords of the piano
trying to fix the segue,
substituting chord after chord,
as the bass beneath pushes

us ahead, red hot and mad,
working the room with anger;
the murderous notes fly wild,
burning away useless charts
as Miles and I turn our backs,

and say, “Never mind.”

The head that began it all
now lost, deliberately,
only tensions and guide tones
suggesting of melody,
her alto pauses and breathes

as the snare drum snaps, alert,
finding the primal level
in our talk, the undertow
where the nothing we share breeds
and lets loose its dark malice.

A conversation, I think,
is not about streams of words
in space from a single voice,
but interplay of accent;
subtle questions in each pause

a spur driving another line,
or emphasis, amplifying
the other’s words, pushing back
perhaps only with a breath
to change rhythm and the tune,

like saying, “So What?”

For the song is not possessed
by one alone; it weaves and moves
from alto to first, trumpet,
then to bass and to the drum,
brass bell, then ivory key,

as moistened reed gives way, back
to the brass, struck on its edge
by wire brush; each one pushing,
working off of each other,
waiting to get the last word.

Now she’s back in the kitchen,
but her solo I block out;
focusing my quiet vamp
’til she sits out a chorus
and I can speak my own phrase

as she turns her back to me,
thinking, like Miles, of control,
giving me a bit of space,
with an irritating cool
that shows she is the leader.

The band says, “We hate that.”

31 JUL 1994, revised 31 OCT 2001

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For the Musicians on my friends list :)

There is a book by Kenny Werner called Effortless Mastery: Liberating the Master Musician Within that I cannot recommend more highly to anyone who thinks they ever were, ever wanted to be, or ever will be a Musician. The introduction to this book is so personally moving to me; it describes almost exactly what I feel being a Musician is all about. I don’t think Kenny would mind if I shared it here with you – perhaps it will convince you to purchase the book (and its accompanying CD of guided meditations) for yourselves.

There is an ocean. It is a drop of consciousness, an ocean of bliss. Each one of us is a drop in that ocean. In that sense, we are all one – or as a famous American television commercial states, “We’re all connected.” Illusion would have us think that we are all separate entities, separate drops. But if that were true, we would all evaporate rather quickly.

As we expand our limited selves into this infinite consciousness, we tap into a great network of infinite possibilities, infinite creativity – great, great power. Carried by the waves of this ocean, we swirl past all limitations and maximize our potential. Everything good that can possibly happen to us, from within and without, does. Our abilities expand beyond all reasonable limits, and we become a magnetic force for abundant light and all that that implies.

We are all part of a universal game. Returning to our essence while living in the world is the object of the game. The earth is the game board, and we are the pieces on the board. We move around and around until we remember who we really are, and then we can be taken off the board. At that point, we are no longer the game-piece, but the player; we’ve won the game.

As Musicians/healers, it is our destiny to conduct an inward search, and to document it with our Music so that others may benefit. As they listen to the Music coming through us, they too are inspired to look within. Light is being transmitted and received from soul to soul. Gradually, the planet moves from darkness to light. We as Musicians must surrender to the ocean of our inner selves. We must descend deep into that ocean while the sludge of the ego floats on the surface. We let go of our egos and permit the Music to come through us and do its work. We act as the instruments for that work.

If we can live in this realization, we will constantly have deep motivation for what is played, never getting stuck in the ungrateful consciousness of good gigs/bad gigs, out-of-tune pianos, low fees, ungracious audiences, and so on. Instead, our minds will be consumed with what a very great privilege it is to be the one selected to deliver the message to others. We will no longer be caught in the mundane world of good Music/bad Music (“am I playing well?”). Instead, our hearts and minds will be focused on the task of remaining empty and alert to receiving this inspired information and translating it faithfully, without any coloration from us.

Kenny Werner, Effortless Mastery

Enjoy the day, ya’ll…

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