WHY A STEADY BAND – Lieb explains the importance of keeping the same band members

I wrote the following after a good run of work with my regular working quartet during the fall of 2010. Many thoughts that I have discusses in writings through the years about being a bandleader and what that entails are summarized here.

This fall has seen my regular working quartet hitting pretty hard in the U.S., something which is a rarity these days. You can see from the itinerary in the last newsletter that we made some stops on the West Coast and in the New England area. Also, the DL Big Band had a few hits and my band is the rhythm section for that group also. As a capper, we have a Europe tour coming up in December. So, this is quite a nice run which with constant playing inevitably opens musical doors both as a group and individually. In essence the machine has a chance to get oiled and run full throttle. This flurry of activity has lead me to re-think why it has always been a top priority to maintain the same personnel throughout my career. In this case it has been nearly twenty years with bassist Tony Marino and guitarist Vic Juris and ten with drummer Marko Marcinko.

In fact, I have had only three other steady groups in a 36 year period which in the jazz business is rather unusual.

I formed the Dave Liebman Group after Quest (Richie Beirach, Ron McClure, Billy Hart) which took up most of the 1980s. The original formulation was alongside Tony and Vic, Jamey Haddad on drums/percussion and Phil Markowitz on piano/ keyboards. My initial concept was to play more programmatic, written music than previously with Quest. I also wanted to delve more into odd meters and rhythm in general, in light of the emphasis during the Quest period where the material focused so much on the harmonic language that Richie and I developed over the decades. In 1997, the piano departed and a few years later Haddad left for Paul Simon’s gig, so Marko came aboard. With the absence of the keyboard, Vic Juris had to seriously step up to the plate, which he has more than accomplished. In fact I have never heard a musician grow more than Vic did in these decades. He is serious, hard working and full of talent. And as a human being, Vic is the nicest person to be around as well. 

With the departure of Markowitz I directed the music towards a freer harmonic and more open rhythmic concept.

Repertoire-wise this meant a lot of time/no changes formats, rubato and occasional odd meter. But the primary emphasis was definitely towards the conversation taking place between the guitar and myself, rather than purely soloistic. Now in 2010, we have been moving into a more color oriented stage, meaning increased use of sound and ambiance. Tony is now playing exclusively electric bass; I am only playing soprano (harkening back to the long hiatus I took from the tenor between 1980 and 1995) and Vic is all over the place sonically speaking. The three of us are using a variety of pedals and effects with Marko employing hand percussion instruments along with the drums.

One could say that an emphasis on atmosphere is where we are at present.

Considering the material itself over the years, I think it is quite clear to anyone who has followed my development (and I would venture to say the following is more or less true of most artists), that what you play near the beginning of your career forms the foundation for everything after that. Of course it is juggled around and transformed, but the basic sound that one hears at the commencement of creative work seems to more or less form the basis of an artist’s entire oeuvre. Although from my generation onwards (growing up musically in the ‘60s and career-wise in the ‘70s), the jazz repertoire became much more eclectic than previously using a wider variety of idioms and styles rather than the customary blues, rhythm and standard tunes, the fact remains that you are what you are musically.

One could say that even in the case of Miles Davis who on the surface traversed many styles over forty years, common stylistic aspects remained throughout his life. There is a certain “essence” that usually appears in its raw form at the beginning, probably without much cognizance or sophistication, but very real nonetheless. The challenge for a long artistic life is how to refine that essence and transform it over the years so it remains fresh and vital. In more than a few ways the music I have played with the present Dave Liebman Group over the past twenty years is quite similar to the material on my first recording as a leader on ECM titled “Lookout Farm” (1973).

 DL Group at Fisherman’s Wharf, San Francisco

Back to the subject, the most obvious reason for maintaining the same personnel is that time spent together both on and off the bandstand builds trust and confidence. Musically this means that whatever one plays, you know it is real and not a false or selfish gesture.

You accept what your mates play as the best they can do at the time and move on from there. In other less permanent situations, a moment of doubt may surface as to why someone played something. Did it happen because of musical reasons or personal ego or other extraneous factors? Granted that great musicians can come together on a one night or short term basis and create some interesting music. But when a band has a history it’s apparent, certainly to the listener without them necessarily being consciously aware of it. They feel something beyond the ordinary happening. There is one more important reason for keeping steady personnel. In retrospect it was through observing Miles Davis as a leader that I learned the following.

The main task when leading a band is to recognize in your sidemen what they do best. One must of course first realize what you personally do best musically. I would imagine by the time one is a bandleader they would know that about themselves.

You can’t expect others to latch on to something if you don’t have it well formed at least in your own head, if not on paper. This “knowing oneself” is a purely objective exercise …there is no “would’ve,” “could’ve” or “should’ve” …no conditional tense please!! Just objective observation. Then, because jazz is the most democratic of all music, you have to find partners who can and want to enhance what you hear. 

With Miles, it seemed that he could hear what he wanted out of you even if the so-called “audition” was musically totally unrelated to what his music was at the time. He heard Dave Holland with a singer playing standards; he heard Al Foster playing bebop with Walter Bishop at a club called the Cellar on 96th Street in New York; he heard me playing with Steve Grossman in a double quartet free jazz gig at the Scene on 46th Street in Manhattan.

What all of us ended up playing with Miles had nothing to do with any of these musical settings. If you think about a lot of Miles’ sidemen, the way they played during their tenure with Miles was never heard again in their future music. 

Once you find these right partners, the leader has to create the circumstances for this combination to blossom and realize the sound in his head. This means several things: keeping the music challenging and exciting in order to pique the interest of your sidemen; finding opportunities to play in order to satisfy the necessity of making a living; and creating a workable social environment since there is hopefully a lot of time spent together touring and recording…if the group is successful which is the obvious objective. When everything is synching up, the music has a chance to go beyond the mundane. This takes a lot of work, good timing and a bit of luck…all factors that go into any successful business undertaking.

Like any long term relationship (marriage being a good metaphor), there are emotional and relational ups and downs which naturally occur. There is also the “boredom” factor, meaning knowing too well how someone reacts to a given musical situation, which can potentially take away from what true improvisers look for on a daily basis, playing something new and fresh, not by rote. True jazz musicians are very sensitive to mechanical playing. We are supposed to be in the moment without a past or future, in the now. Too much predictability can bring the level of the musical discourse down. We try to achieve a balance between the expected and the surprise gesture.

Accepting the inevitability of at least some repetitious playing when you are with the same musicians for awhile is important. Ultimately with the right people, the group moves beyond, concentrating rather on the positive which is something played that is fresh music. With patience, time will take care of these matters. When that happens there is a feeling of accomplishment, of having passed through something together which strengthens the band and the music. It goes without saying that finding the right people to fit into this scenario is no mean feat!!

For me, it was the power of their steady groups that artists like Coltrane, Miles, Monk, Blakey and others from that era had going which most affected me most as a listener. I urge musicians to do their best to sustain long term relationships. The rewards are worth it. To my guys, I say thanks for the loyalty and trust you have given me.

Why Compose?

by David Liebman

I have always maintained in both teaching and as a central premise of my aesthetic that for the serious improviser, composing is a vital tool towards finding one’s own individual voice. Because the compositional process is more often that not slow and methodical (with exceptions of hurried deadlines), in most cases both technical and aesthetic decisions can be made after deliberate consideration. In mulling over whether or not to use a specific pitch, chord, rhythm, or whatever musical element in question, the musical mind is considerably slowed down, especially when compared to what jazz musicians normally have to consider while improvising. In composition there are no excuses for not getting the music the way you intend it to be, such as the accompanist’s abilities, bad equipment, be it a reed, sound system or out of tune piano, etc., factors which may negatively affect live performance. Composing is the equivalent of being in the laboratory, going through a step by step process. The relatively glacial pace of writing helps a musician to fine tune the mind, so that musical decisions normally made in the heat of the moment during improvisation have a chance to become more refined both consciously and unconsciously over time. Of course the usual elements of intuition, experience, habit and may I dare say a bit of good luck, will always be part and parcel of the improviser’s game, but every little bit helps towards improving one’s prowess. In a certain sense an improviser is always looking for the perfect solo that from a purely musical standpoint would stand up under compositional review, meaning the kind of rigorous editing that is part and parcel of a composer’s trade.

From a more practical standpoint and especially in the case of a musician who leads a band performing one’s own compositions, there is the added value of being able to construct a musical landscape that is personal and challenging. A composition sets up a “problem” to be solved by specifying a musical element(s) to improvise on, be it a scale, melody, harmonic progression, rhythm, texture, etc. Therefore the improviser is in essence composing along the lines that the composition itself highlighted. This process improves both one’s own craft and the entire group’s efforts as a result of focusing on specific musical devices. Also from the practical side, there is the obvious and fortuitous possibility that other musicians will play one’s compositions. This is the ultimate compliment as well as a potential added source of income.

The Compositional Challenge

A major challenge in composing is to find the correct balance between writing too much and too little as far as the improvising is concerned. My goal is to offer the improviser enough freedom to bring out his or her player’s strengths, but at the same time to offer a challenge and enough direction so that the solo inevitably has an inner logic and relationship to the composition itself. If there is too much written material, the soloist may be inhibited or forced into musical corners, resulting in a lessening of spontaneity and feeling. Too little direction in the composition can lead to a lack of cohesiveness. How a song can convey emotion as well as present a concentrated musical problem for the improviser to solve is a core challenge.

A composer works with a mixture of the five elements of music: melody, harmony, rhythm, color (texture/sound) and form. A pervasive guideline, common to all art is the interplay, balance and denouement of tension and release. This is where the artistic aspect of composition is clearly demonstrated, assuming that technicalities of the craft have been learned and absorbed. The inspirational aspects of composing are obviously an important factor but should not be overrated. To paraphrase Bela Bartok, composition is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration!! Composing is a learned task like playing an instrument or memorizing a piece of music. Doing it more often than not  makes one better at it.

I once asked the great Stevie Wonder how he wrote so many masterpieces (especially in the 1970s) and his reply was to the extent: “I write five tunes a day!!”

My Body of Work

Listeners and fans familiar with my work over these decades know that I am an unabashed eclectic, having recorded, composed and performed in a wide variety of idioms and styles. To my mind, no matter what the music, one’s essential personality will come forth if it is based on a strong conviction to be true to oneself along with a basic understanding of the idiom involved. Hence, this song book offers a repertoire that is far ranging in style. In a certain way, my first recording as a leader, Lookout Farm, on the ECM label in 1973 set the course of my musical tastes with the four compositions representing these interests over the ensuing decades: twentieth century classical harmony, rock and ethnic rhythms, free and modal jazz with more than a nod to the tradition at times. (I have recorded the music of Miles, Coltrane, Alec Wilder, Cole Porter, Monk, Jobim and even Puccini as of this writing.) Add various shadings of these main directions and you have my basic repertoire for the past forty years which would include straight ahead jazz tunes (ballads, blues, waltzes, swing and contrafacts), odd meter rhythms, ostinato/pedal point settings, chromatic and triadic harmonic progressions, free jazz (linear counterpoint/time, no changes) and of course combinations of these elements. Often, I write for an instrumental format that will be conducive to a particular idiom. For example, a bass-sax-drums trio is quite suitable for a linear counterpoint song; a group with a synthesizer for textural or rock type tunes, etc.

In jazz, hearing a composition come alive on recording or performance is an important aspect of the process. Whenever possible I urge the reader to seek out recorded versions of the tunes. But I must add a caveat which is that composing for me in an ongoing process, meaning a tune is never truly completed. Surely when it is recorded, that does represent some sort of “final” statement of the tune, but even now as I prepare the pieces for this collection, I am constantly changing them. One’s tastes, aesthetic choices and of course knowledge of the tools of music is continually in flux and inevitably evolving as time goes on. With all that said, be aware that what is written here may be different from the recorded version.

In my work a lot of compositions have as their inspiration an image, place, person, mood or something similarly concrete as I am definitely an image oriented composer. There are of course pieces which are purely musical studies, but many have some programmatic intent, at least on the inspirational level which leads me to a sound, be it harmonic, rhythmic or harmonic.  My mind imagines a picture or realizes a feeling, followed by an initial musical reaction. I trust my instinct that what first goes down on the paper is basically acceptable and ready to be worked on. I usually return to a song over days or weeks, sometimes for only a brief period of time to hear how it sounds anew and if needed continually refining it. A piece may begin with a basic concept of what instrumental context the song will be best suited for, but always allowing for the piece to have a new life with another combination in the future. Although I use the piano for the majority of compositions, depending upon the idiom, I might write from the horn (melody) or bass line first or even the drums. However, one way or the other it usually find its way to the piano for final review.

Crucial to the success of a composition are two other skills. Arranging a piece means realizing various aspects of the architecture (form) of a composition by juggling the order of events meaning insertion and placement of intros and outros, codas and tags, vamps, solo order and solo forms, etc. Finally orchestration, meaning texture and sound choices, even in the small jazz group implies which instrument(s) will play what passage at what point. These two elements can drastically alter the overall effect of a song, especially in the performance realm. In my period playing with Miles Davis as well as studies of his entire oeuvre, it was apparent that he was a great spontaneous arranger and orchestrator. He knew when to leave something out of the music or to use a particular instrument for a specific sound.

For the sake of completeness, I have written descriptions of any direct inspirations that were associated with the compositions. Every tune gets a file folder (the real kind) in which I put the date it was written, the initial inspiration, multiple versions of the tunes and any technical or musical points of interest.

There is a reason why so many musicians both enjoy and despair when it comes to composing. It is equally rewarding and frustrating, but necessary for artistic growth. A composition is like growing a plant or more dramatically similar to raising a child. In my musical life, composing has been an indispensable tool for self discovery.

July 2006

Stroudsburg, PA USA

by DAVID LIEBMAN

You’ve heard the expression that there is an “art of listening”. Though on the surface it would seem that to enjoy music should be an effortless experience, when you listen to my music it is admittedly not that easy to appreciate without some prior experience. For sure, the energy will be obvious and to some listeners possibly seem a bit aggressive, but that is an undeniable part of my playing no matter what style or situation. I will try here to make sense of my music so that you can enjoy it to the fullest.

What you are hearing in any small group jazz setting is in essence a conversation between several individuals who hopefully have a history of communication and a shared language. The subject matter changes with each composition and each performance begins the process anew. Every piece inherently contains a musical puzzle to be worked out by the players spontaneously. What we, the musicians do with a piece of music is to apply our knowledge and technique tempered by one’s emotional state to explore the given musical challenge. These come in the form of rhythmic, harmonic, sonic, melodic and structural questions. Of course, we have preconceived and habituated answers based on previous experience and practice, but the overriding goal is to be as spontaneous as possible without relying on the past or thinking about the future. In other words, always “being there” in present time!!

In the final analysis it is the process which you, the listener, observes and to my mind is the crux of the whole matter. Just as in everyday life, when a group of individuals meet to solve common problems, each with his or her own expertise, it is the joy of mutual discovery that can be so uplifting and inspiring to witness or be involved in. What constitutes a “great” performance from a merely good one is when the group reaches beyond collective agreement into magic and even a spirituality which is communicated to the listener. Just as in real life, these moments can be rare, which is what keeps musicians going from performance to performance over years and years.

My Musical Creed

To go a bit more in depth, I will describe the main tenets of my musical philosophy. In the overall picture, I think of the making of music(and any art in general) as an attempt to balance three things, which can conveniently be remembered by the fact that they all begin with the letter H: hand, head and heart. The hand represents the technical mastery of an art form and all that suggests-primarily instrumental and musical expertise. The head refers to the task of knowing about the music-how it is constructed. The heart, which puts it all together is of course the emotional, psychological and spiritual facets of the artist-in other words the core personality of the individual. For me, music must include these three aspects in some relationship to be fully satisfying.

Music must also include in some proportion, the five elements which make up the overall structure. There are the traditional melody, harmony and rhythm, but also form and color. By form I mean the overall architecture of the music. For example, it may be compositional such as a twelve bar blues, AABA song structure, or the form of one’s solo from high to low points of tension and release. Even the sequence of songs in a live performance or on a CD are matters of form. Similar to a frame for a painting or punctuation in prose writing, form constitutes the overall shape and structure of a work. Color implies the sound of the music meaning how the specific instruments are used individually as well as collectively in the ensemble to create a texture. One might consider color as the general ambiance (as in the French meaning atmosphere) of music. In the last few decades with the use of electronics, color has played a major role in what you hear. What these five elements mean to me as an artist, outside of the technical aspects, can be compared to how a painter uses his color palette or a poet uses language. My interest is in exploring these elements, sometimes together, other times separately, in order to discover more subtle ways to use them to make a personal and coherent musical statement. Note the use of the word “personal” which is of paramount importance to me. That means to be oneself in any given setting.

The final concept of relevance is that I am an unabashed eclectic, meaning interested in many different musical idioms. I trace this back to my formative years, the 1960s, when I was exposed to all styles of music which were more readily available then in previous times to any interested listener. It was not uncommon for me to listen to Coltrane, Hendrix, Bartok and Shankar over the course of one day. I was attracted to many diverse areas of music and when I began to construct my own musical landscape in the 1970s(after my apprenticeship period with Elvin Jones and Miles Davis), I wanted to express myself in all these styles and their many combinations. You could call this “fusion” in the true sense of the word.

The Music Itself

With this introduction to my aesthetic, let me guide you through the Liebman repertoire over the years. Though the specific material itself may vary from performance to performance or on recordings, these categories are what I have spent my time on. But please remember-the overriding goals are spontaneity balanced with order, entertainment with elucidation, control with emotion.

1 – Repertoire: The Legacy

Jazz musicians like the classical players have a standard repertoire. These are the works through which one learns the language as performed and written by the masters of the art. By extension, repertoire means finding contemporary material written by others (possibly not in the jazz field) and conceiving an adaptation that will both be true to the song as well as one’s own musical vision. In other words, “playing the standards” for me means individualizing known material in a way suitable to my personal style and taste. The material can come from any source, for example Miles Davis’ “All Blues”, Coltrane’s “India”, the Disney theme “Beauty and the Beast” or as I did in the 70s on a recording(Sweet Hands-A&M/Horizon) the Beatles’ “Within You, Without You”. Musically, I may change the harmony through new or expanded chords, the rhythm by tempo change or using a different meter than the original(5/4 rather than 4/4); inserting a “vamp”(repetitive pattern) built upon some part of the tune or newly invented; even reworking the melody to fit a new harmony; or combinations of these ideas. In essence, the primary musical challenge in playing repertoire is more of arranging, rather than pure original composing. As is apparent in the next genre, the original tune. Another point to note is that it takes a certain level of maturity and experience to take classics that are undeniably linked to a great artist or genre and attempt to personalize them. In any case, the result of playing repertoire is that hopefully, the listener will enjoy the transformation of something relatively known into a personal vehicle for exploration. In other words the familiar is reborn!

2 – The Original Jazz Composition

Here is where the composer and improviser meet head on. I write songs for myself to play on, so each tune has within it some musical challenge which attracts me personally. As mentioned earlier, this problem solving process is essential and it is the original composition which best exemplifies a particular musician’s interests. This music may reflect the ongoing challenge of improvising coherent melodies across moving (and for me) usually complex harmonies. Or to play in a stationary key in a way that suggests other harmonic movement. (This modal and pedal point style is described in detail in my book “A Chromatic Approach to Jazz Melody and Harmony”/Advance Music). It is the eternal cross all jazz musicians bear (whether admitted or not) which is “how did Bird, Trane, Miles, etc. do it?” Essentially, this “playing the changes” is what keeps many jazz musicians eternally humble!!

With my present group (since 1991), there has been the further exploration of playing in odd time signatures, meaning not in the standard 4/4 or 3/4 pulse. Of course there is for me the autobiographical element of my originals which are often inspired by people, places, events, emotions, etc. This adds a personal element which hopefully gives the listener more insight into the soul of the artist. Almost every tune of mine has a story.

3 – Free Jazz

The word “free” can imply (and may sound like) chaos-a kind of anything goes attitude. But returning to my description of the five musical elements, it is this part of the music where color and form are most explored. You might hear sounds emanating from the instruments that are out of normal and customary usage, implying an attempt to create a spontaneous and interesting sonic environment. One of the most common textures used is when we launch into a true group dialogue to which all the players are contributing equally, rather than there being one primary soloist. Out of this texture a true acappella (unaccompanied) solo may emerge, or a duet and so on. These freer compositions usually do not have predetermined harmonies, set tempos or bar lengths, so the level of spontaneous interaction and need for the musicians to react to each other seems to intensify in this idiom. In general, musicians feel more “free from” rather than “free of” more conventional structures when playing in this style.

4 – Ethnic-World Music

As part of my eclectic tastes I have always loved world music. In particular the various ways flutes and hand drums are used have fascinated me. In relation to the elements of music, this genre usually includes little or no direct harmony, rather just remaining in one key for each piece(s). This leads to increased emphasis on both rhythm and melody. For me as a wind player, the interest lies in the various ways different cultures use similar expressive devices such as trills, vibrato, vocalization techniques(singing while blowing into a wind instrument), alternate fingerings, portamento(sliding from one note to the next), etc. Because of the stationary key, the adage “less is more” is quite applicable implying that the necessity of melodic variation is at a premium in world music. Finally, there is the very sophisticated rhythmic approach of some world music such as that of India and the Balkan region. As far as communication with the audience, this style is extremely accessible (if not overdone) to even the uninitiated listener. My collection of world flutes come from countries like Armenia, India, Bolivia, Norway, China, Japan, Turkey, Columbia and others. In my present group, drummer Jamey Haddad is an expert hand drummer alongside his jazz playing. He uses various kinds of frame drums, which are basically large tambourines, as well as his own invention, the Hadgini drum that sounds like an electrified tabla. In fact, in my first group “Lookout Farm”(1973-76) tabla player Badal Roy was an essential part of our sound. You can hear the sense of joy, looseness and abandonment when we play in this style.

5 – The Pop Influence

Before I heard any jazz as a young boy in Brooklyn, New York, it was the rock ‘n’ roll of the 1950s which I listened to, especially Elvis Presley. As I was introduced to soul and funk later on, the music of Earth, Wind and Fire, Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, James Brown and especially Sly Stone interested me, mostly from the rhythmic and feeling points of view. And of course there was the Beatles, Cream and songwriters like Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan and Simon and Garfunkle who were part of my teenage and early adult life socially. Throughout the years I have recorded several times using a pronounced influence from this music and though I have not followed up on current styles too much, you are bound to hear this influence somewhere in the rhythm of what I write.

6 – Contemporary Classical

For over twenty years I had a long relationship with pianist Richard Beirach who is an expert on the classical music of the 20^th century, which includes composers like Bartok, Stravinsky, Ives, Schoenberg and many others. We did a lot of work incorporating the harmonic innovations of this period and improvising over it. In the 90s, although this influence is not as pronounced, I still use the harmonic knowledge gained from this period for my own personal soloing as well as compositionally. In fact, I would venture to say that harmony is my strongest area because of the prodigious work I did for so long studying it.

Final Thoughts

I hope this little primer on what to listen for will increase your appreciation of my music. Like anything in life, when you adopt a position it has both positive and negative aspects. Being an eclecticist means that the listener may find it difficult to focus on one prominent feature of an artist’s style, thereby leading to confusion in identifying what someone’s core values are. On the other hand, when you hear someone like me over years there can be a lot of interest because of the variety. In some ways, I think of my music as a picture show, a kind of moving travelogue of impressions. In any case, all of these words mean little if the feeling of the music which someone plays doesn’t go right to your heart, beyond any description. I hope that in listening to me, both the heart and the head are stimulated.

Following is a selected discography as a leader which exemplify these categories:

1 – Repertoire – Double Edge-‘85/Homage to Coltrane-‘87/West Side Story-Today-‘90/Classic Ballads-‘91/Setting the Standard-‘92/Besame Mucho-‘93/Miles Away-‘94/Return of the Tenor-‘96’/Meditations-’97/Monk’s Mood-’99/A Walk in the Clouds (Liebman Plays Puccini)-’01/The Unknown Jobim-’01

2 – Original Jazz Compositions – Pendulum-‘78/Doin’It Again-‘79/If They Only Knew-‘80/Timeline-‘89/Quest,Quest II,Midpoint,Of One Mind/80s(all with group Quest)

3 – Free Jazz – Open Sky-‘72/Spirit in the Sky-‘73/Spirit Renewed-‘82/Trio + One-‘88/The Seasons-’92

4 – Ethnic/World – Sweet Hands-‘75/The Blessing of the Old Long Sound-’89

6 – Pop – Lighten Up-‘76/What It Is-‘79/Energy of the Chance-’87

7 – Classical – Dedications-‘79/Chant-‘80/Classique-‘91/Graphic Reality-’94

8 – The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner – Time Immemorial – The Tree – One of a Kind

The following recordings contain parts of many of these categories mixed together:

Lookout Farm – ‘73/Drum Ode-‘74/Picture Show-‘85/Voyage-‘95/New Vista-‘97/Water-Giver of Life-‘98

by DAVID LIEBMAN

Following is a transcription of a talk that I gave to a class of students at East Stroudsburg University(Pennsylvania) for the conclusion of a course titled “Masters of Jazz”. For twelve sessions guest musicians spoke about their lives to the students. The textbook for the course was my “Self Portrait of A Jazz Artist” (Advance Music) The topic for the talk was to describe understand the common qualities that these artists possess which define success in jazz and in life.

I wrote down a few of what I would describe as common qualities that you saw in these speakers, in various intensities, that you will find in the real world no matter what you do, no matter what field you encounter. I think there are some general lessons here that you can observe and then there are some very unique things that we only see so with such intensity in the jazz field.

One of the things I really admire about the musicians, maybe the main thing is that the musicians and people involved in jazz are in it for the music and possess a certain kind of — I’m going to say it slang-wise — a certain kind of down-home, informal quality…straight-forward vibe basically, just plain folks. These are the kind of people you can talk to anywhere. This is not to disparage any other field or any other kind of music, but the idea of the prima donna, the idea of the “great artist” sitting in an ivory tower aloof and away from the real world for the most part really doesn’t exist among jazz musicians. It’s just not in their “M.O.” I think that is something we really value. I’m not saying that they’re not sometimes quite introspective and like their privacy and so forth, but they’re the kind of people who don’t holds airs or come on strong with an attitude. To me, that’s a very endearing quality in common with all the jazz musicians I’ve met. And by the way, this is true all over the world regardless of language. That’s a nice thing to see and something that I feel anyone would prefer to encounter in the real world but of course that isn’t always going to be the case. This is definitely something in common with the artists you have seen here.

Another thing that you might have noticed, again depending on what each of the people spoke specifically about, meaning what the emphasis of their discussion with you was, is how the word “integrity” enters into the life of these artists. Integrity is a word that gets bandied around a lot and means different things to different people of course. But I think for the most part what you saw are people who are so true and connected to what they do that it would be very difficult to imagine them moving from that place. Their ways of achieving what they want are going to be, for the most part, honest, moral and ethical. And that is I would say, a very common trait among jazz musicians. They are very straight, honest people in that respect with no game-playing. These are not the kind of people that are going to take the money and run. For the most part there is a real honesty about intentions and personal dealings.

What is it that makes these common traits among people who come from all different experiences? I always go back to the fact that the music is the source of the truths and our principles. In other words, what we heard, and you heard everybody talk about their influences — who inspired them, how they started, what gave them the idea to even play — what you find in the music is usually something much higher and much more spiritual, much more balanced than your life or the life you see around you. The music is perfect, after that it’s what we bring to the music. When you listen to those who inspired you, you are turned on by the beauty, the logic, all the great intellect and the great technique. That beauty that comes through the music I have always felt showed me a better way to be as a person. In other words, if I had a doubt about how to be, I would listen to Coltrane who would straighten me out, especially when I was in that period of my life searching for how to be which was my early 20s for the most part. In other words, when questions arose about which way I should go, the kind of things that one confronts  in life, when I would listen to Coltrane, it would make me say: “Well there’s no question about which way I have to follow.” So there’s something about the music that gives a sense of integrity and direction to those who love and devote themselves to it. This is a definite common trait.

More to the practical world. I read a book years ago called The Lives of the Great Composers. It was by a very famous critic from the New York Times, Harold Schoenberg, a classical music critic, very respected and so forth. It was biographies of all the guys from, you know, Mozart right on through the modern ones. I remember my impression of the book was how different everybody was in the way they organized music. Some were completely organized, I forget, it was one of the H’s – Handel or Haydn, one of those guys was so organized; he had everything together, everything was copied, parts were together, and he would hand it to the King or whomever and that would be it. One of the other dudes, Debussy or somebody, was up at 5 in the morning the night before it was due, copying the parts. I’m talking all geniuses, all great, all different paths to the same thing. A quality you see among all these musicians, a quality you can glean from all of these speakers is some sense of organization. Now, if you were to compare the organization of Speaker A with the organization of Speaker B and go to their studio, you’d see one guy’s studio where there are saxophones in the corner on the floor, reeds, music paper, pencils strewn all about, and go to some other studio and everything is in boxes and neatly stacked. This would reflect an obvious difference in the style. But I think, beyond the style, beyond the way one does it, for somebody to be able to play and be involved in this music, you have had to be organized somewhere, somehow. Because there’s no way that you could amass this kind of information, to be able to spit it out in a spontaneous way in such rapidity that we do in jazz without being organized in some fashion. I mean like a computer. The boxes in the brain are divided up into little segments which work. They’re different for everybody but they are very, very clear. There’s no way that they would get to this kind of level if they weren’t like that.

Another thing that’s in common, that goes along with the organization principle, is the ability to project, to think ahead, to imagine. It’s thinking about a situation, about what will it be like, what is happening tomorrow, what will the music sound like if I do this, where will the music be played, etc. In other words, what we spend a lot of our time doing is preparing for the next event, whether it’s a gig, or writing for a recording, or traveling, or organizing a tour. These are very practical things. Or maybe I am preparing to learn something so that possibly in a year or two I’m very good at it. In other words I’ll learn this piece and then I’ll get better through the discipline I’ve learned by studying. A musician has to be able to imagine what things are going to be like, to project and not be afraid of the future, or be scared about how it will sound…just go out on a limb. In a way, that’s very tied to the spontaneous nature of what we do, that we’re playing on the spot, in the moment and we’re not sure how it’s going to work out. But even more than that, even away from the instrument, it is the ability to really look ahead and say “What would happen if I did this? And if I do this, what would the results be?” That’s a certain kind of ability. I don’t know if that comes through the music or that comes because of the music, but I think that is in common to a lot of jazz musicians — the ability to project ahead into the future.

Obviously a big thing, and this you probably got very clearly from all the speakers as they spoke about their past and their lives and how they developed is the ability to learn from experience. How to take a kernel of information and let that be a lesson to do something better the next time. Now we do it every minute with the music. If we see a chord change, or we see a new pattern, or we see something musically that is thrown in front of us that is unusual, the way we handle that is a preparation for the next time that comes up. We may not realize it but of course we’re honing our abilities…we’re disciplining ourselves every time we see that particular problem. One might say: “Well you know what, I saw this chord progression which was very difficult in this tune that I did on a recording date. I got through it but it was a bitch to play. I’m taking it home, I’m going to practice it and write 20 extra exercises on it to make a study out of it.” Well, that’s quite organized and very, very disciplined. Another person might just be more spontaneous about it, in the sense of saying: “Well you know that thing I saw yesterday in the music was quite challenging and I will remember that and lodge it in that part of the brain that I can use for experience.” That’s very important…to learn from experience. We do it with the music, which is no different from anybody in any other part of life who learns from experience.

But that’s what’s unusual about us. What’s different from other people in this respect is that the music made us become this way. That’s how I feel about it. It wasn’t like we came on to the planet with these things. We came in as anybody else, equipped with whatever our past is and whatever our upbringing was. But when we got to the music, usually at a very impressionable age, it told us these things without even spelling it out. So they’re all things we got from music and then of course those that are smart enough or that are aware will take these things and develop them further.

Of course you know that one of the elements of jazz is what we call spontaneity, spontaneous improvisation. The whole idea of spontaneity and flexibility, the ability to change in mid course and alter plans, not be upset, to try something different on the spot, in the moment, is really something that’s a good attribute to have in life because we can’t tell what’s going to be coming down the road. In jazz, again, the music demands that we are like that on a musical level. You have to be like that, otherwise we couldn’t handle this music. We’d be better in classical music, which is knowing what’s coming up. The great classical musicians, of course, are spontaneous in their performance but for the most part they have a game plan that they have practiced and they have studied. We have a game plan in which the premise is spontaneity and to deal with what’s coming at you. That’s brings in one of the great things about playing jazz — the interaction with the other people. It’s the fact that I really don’t know what the drummer is going to do; I don’t know what the piano player is going to do. We have some kind of guide, we have some kind of plan but I’m not sure. Taking that into real life makes for a kind of attribute in one’s personality that I think is very handy to have which is the ability to change and not to be stuck in one way. We never know what’s going to happen, even though we think we know what’s going to happen. So again, I think the music makes that a common attribute among jazz musicians: flexibility, spontaneity, loving to take a chance. We dig that. In fact, without it, we probably wouldn’t be as happy as people. That’s part of our makeup.

Finally, on my little short list here, probably the most important thing which  summarizes everything is individuality. One of the understood goals that a musician looks for in the final result is that after learning what came before, what everybody else is doing, what everybody else has done—what one goes for is an individual voice. Now in ordinary life, everybody had an individual speaking voice. Your tone of voice is individual, the way you speak, the way you phrase things, there are no two people that are alike. In jazz, in this art form, individuality is the main goal. You strive for individuality through the music, not only though your personality, not through what you wear or through how you talk, but how you play that instrument. And I always say to the serious students, can you tell who it is from the first note? Those of you who know the music, can you tell that that’s so-and-so from the first or second note they play no matter what song they play, no matter what period of history they played in? It’s like can you tell Picasso from Monet? Well, I think you can, okay? Can you tell Fellini from Woody Allen? Everything and everybody has a signature in the art field. In our field, individuality is a big priority, at least to some. It’s not something that everybody reaches or cares about necessarily. Among musicians this is an endless discussion. If I sat down with Phil (Woods) and Bob (Dorough) (two of the speakers during the course) and we put on ten records now, we’d probably end up discussing: “Well, this cat, I don’t know. He sounds good, and sounds OK, you know, he sounds like a good musician, he’s done his homework. But I can’t really identify who it is, only who his influences are. It just sounds like a big melting pot.” And then somebody would put something on and all three of us, or all twelve of the speakers that you’ve seen would go: “That’s him. I know who that is. That’s that guy.”

That quest for individuality and the desire to bring it out was a really important lesson to me. It’s what I learned most from this music. I had no idea about that. Nobody ever told me that that’s the name of the game or that you have to form your personality, and have a way of being in whatever you do from ordinary life to the way you treat people to what your work is. You inevitably are going to have a style so best be it that you are aware of it, develop and hone it to where it is together so that at least you are close to the way you want it to be…as best as it can be because it’s never a finished product. The important thing is that you are developing it. And that point of individuality is something that we, in different degrees, sit down and think about. That’s a good thing to learn from this music because when you hear it, what you’re hearing is a group of people who pursue individuality at all costs. In some cases, they really paid a lot for it. That’s something which you really don’t see too much in this world: the pursuit, glorification, exaggeration of the individual instead of the group. And that’s one of the great lessons from this music.  On the other hand we play with others and are dependent upon cooperation and egolessness. It’s a great balance.

Now there are a couple of other things that are unique to the field which I’m not sure you’re going to find too much of in the rest of the world. We definitely live in a subculture. We are a dot of a dot of a dot on a page. Now I’m sure you’ve heard some of the people talk about that aspect of it. What does it feel like to be not in, forget the majority, not even in the minority, to be kind of in the corner in the sense of the entertainment world and show business. Now if you’re Black in this country you know that for sure, right? If you’re short and have three legs, you know about that. In other words, a lot of people know about being different in some way. Some more than others. But this music thing isn’t about what you came on the earth with, or what you were born with. This is what you chose to do. You chose to do something that is in the corner, that is definitely not in the mainstream, that is not commercial, that is not going to be popular. I don’t care what anybody says, it is not meant to be popular in my opinion. It’s like a little group of people who know about this stuff. You say Coltrane, boom, you say Miles, boom, you say Bird, boom, everybody knows. Everybody knows everything I just said and all of its implications and you may not even know the other person. And then, if you get more specific, you say record number 1328 from the year 1949 and it gets even more specific. So, this is something that we jazz musicians have definitely taken upon ourselves, to not be part of the mainstream. We really don’t care what anybody else thinks. Now that’s a tough one because all your whole life you’ve been told to join the club. Everything pushes you into the club. I’m talking about doing something with integrity, with moral principles and ethics, but you’re choosing to be in the corner. Now that’s something that you will not find very much of in the real world. And to me, that separates us in some ways.

When I was a teenager, I remember one thing I thought about way before the music ever entered as a viable entity. As much as I love my parents and this has nothing to do with them personally. They were teachers, nine-to-five and so on. I said to myself: “Man, there’s no way I’m going to do that. No way. I will rob a bank, anything, but I am not going to do that.” Now, I don’t know where that came from. I have no idea because I had no models and knew nobody that was like that. I came from a very straight-ahead family in a normal place and so on. But I knew I wasn’t going to do that straight thing. Luckily I found this music, otherwise you know, who knows where we’d all be. I always think about some of the guys I know. If they weren’t playing music they’d probably be among the cleverest criminal minds there could be, precisely because of all these great things that we’ve been talking about. Because if you turn these points into the dark side, then you’ve got some strong power.

So there’s something about jazz that is really unique. You go into rock and roll or pop music, well you’re not looking to be in the corner. Let’s face it. You’re looking to be on the cover of Time Magazine. You’re looking to be a hit. And if you go into classical music, just talking music, you’re joining a gigantic thing — not that it’s popular either — but you’re joining something that’s established and well funded. These things are understood. But when you get into something like jazz, or let’s say serious jazz, then you’re going into the circle. It’s esoteric and it’s a few people. And that you have to accept. That’s something that I think is unique to this field of music, though of course there are other fields of life which are similar. This being non-conventional increases the brotherhood that musicians feel.

I’m involved with teaching in schools from all over the world. It’s an organization that I am the founder of. It consists of mostly 20-25 year old students who are part of schools of jazz from, at this point, 40 countries on every continent. We’ve been doing this for 12 years already. And what’s always remarkable to me is the first day we get together – we are in a different country every year, this July it’s in Paris – there are these fifty to sixty young people from over twenty countries. Within a day or two it’s unbelievable how much more is in common than different. And it’s because of the music. Now of course half of them can’t even talk to each other, literally, because of the language as they come from different places and so forth. But it’s unbelievable how much is understood those first two or three days that we are together. And that brotherhood is what this music is about. If you put together all these 12 people that talked to you, this room would be buzzing for the next 10 days. It’s just a strong understanding – all different, all unique, all individuals, all have their own way of organizing things, all the stuff I just said. But there is so much more in common than there is different. And that’s because of the power of the music.

So this is the final thing. If there is ever anything in your life — music, religion, spirituality, something that takes you to a point that shows YOU things, that tells YOU truths — you have found Mecca. That will be a fountain that will never run out. Because you will run out, believe it. But when you got that in front of you, be it the sound, a vision, a story, whatever it is that you have in front of you, that will stay with you forever. That light will shine brighter and brighter because you get better and better at recognizing it. It’s like listening to it. You’re hearing jazz now as a result of this class. Those of you who continue to hear it five years from now are going to hear it completely different. It’s the same with this light I am referring to. You see this light, and you’ll say, “Yeah, that truth that I heard, that’s even brighter now than it was 10 years ago.” How is that going to happen? That’s the real lesson from what you’ve seen with these people because you’ve seen everybody in a very personal way here. This is unusual. You didn’t just see them on the bandstand playing. Here you had people standing in front of you for an hour, some showing more than others and you asked them questions or whatever. You never get that view of people. And that one thing that’s common to them is music. That’s an experience that all people should have, I hope, that somewhere in their life, something in their life makes them say, “Yeah, this is something else!!”

Now by the way, this doesn’t mean you have to become that. When so and so sat down at thirteen and took lessons or when I started with my first teacher, it wasn’t like we were thinking: “I think I’m going to play with Miles Davis.” I didn’t even know who Miles Davis was. I mean, in fact, even five or ten years after that, I still wasn’t thinking it. The innocence of this pursuit is what I love, because it means we are there because we love the music and not because we thought we were going to make a fortune, or be part of this subculture and be mysterious or look hip or look cool. It had to do with the power of the music. If that happens to you, I urge you to seize upon it. That will be a revelation that will guide the rest of your life. We musicians meet in our travels many listeners who are so dedicated to the music, who love the music so much. They don’t play or maybe they play a little bit – they just love it and it’s been a force for them the way it’s been for me. And they’re not musicians. Usually they do something else in life that is positive because they see that that’s the point. That’s something that no matter what you do, if you got that out of this seminar, then you’ve gained something irreplaceable and special.