Riffin’ On Philip Larkin
So for the last few days I’ve been presenting Philip Larkin‘s take on the state of modern jazz, circa 1971, via his introduction to All What Jazz. (Check out both part 1 and part 2.)
As I said from the start, Larkin seems to have a pretty narrow point of view regarding the genre. His disdain for the modernism of bebop and beyond colors much of his writing on the subject and in this particular instance threatens to overshadow what is perhaps the most important of the piece. But if you can get past that bias for a moment, he does put forth a damn compelling argument.
You see, it isn’t modernism that’s the problem with jazz. At least, not for me. It’s the academicism that has come to the art which, in turn, is symptomatic of the fact that in losing its mainstream relevance, jazz lost its primary audience. Let’s turn back to Larkin for a moment.
My own theory is that it is related to an imbalance between the two tensions from which art springs: these are the tension between the artist and his material and between the artist and his audience, and that in the last seventy-five years or so the second of these has slackened or even perished. In consequence the artist has become over-concerned with his material…
(Yes, I hacked the quote to exclude what I’m sure was another irresistible dig on Larkin’s part against modernism.)
So the next questions that should spring up should by “why” and “when”: why did this happen and when did it start? On this point, I again think that Larkin only got it half right. But the half that I think is right is pretty damn spot on. Again, Larkin:
The tension between artist and audience in jazz slackened when the Negro stopped wanting to entertain the white man, and when the audience as a whole, with the end of the Japanese war and the beginning of television didn’t in any case particularly want to be entertained in that way any longer.
I think the first part there is just downright racist. Jazz came about because black musicians wanted to entertain white people?!? Puh-lease. But the second part is dead on in my opinion.
TV killed the jazz star.
The mainstream is fickle. When they call it “popular culture”, the qualifier is the key: popular…transitory…fleeting. Like the pretty girl at the dance surrounded by hormonal boys, she’s popular for that trait that is most impermanent. Eventually, she’s going to have to develop some damn good conversational skills. Regardless, the majority of those horny boys will eventually shift their gaze to the next pretty girl that comes along. Because they’re boys. And they’re…um…horny,
I don’t think Charlie Parker woke up one day and decided to flip the bird to his audiences (yes, pun intended) and start speaking in bebop. He did it because he had to, because that’s where his creativity and his fingers took him. The audience, however, had to make a choice and some decided to follow and others did not. And the generation of artists did the same thing after him, as did the next generation. And on a parallel path, so did two generations of listeners. Which brings us to today.
In the comments to one of the previous posts, a friend asked “What can jazz say to the legions of folks who are reveling in a self-imposed techno-autism?” My answer is everything and nothing. It has the chance to be relevant if the artist decides to establish common ground with the audience, to push the work beyond the walls of the ivory tower. But if the artist opts to remain in his cocoon, they will say nothing to the masses. So the artists that bemoan the empty room they’re playing to only have themselves to blame.
Is this a call for jazz artists to pander? Absolutely not. But if you want to connect with the masses, you have to be empathetic to what they bring to the party, how they contribute to the tension, as Larkin might say. Last year, Herbie Hancock won an Album of the Year Grammy for his release River: The Joni Letters. He established common ground with his audience via the songbook of an amazing popular songwriter, married that with the efforts of some of the best vocalists around and presented it through the filter of his own creativity and imagination. Through that he made art with relevance that earned accolades and an audience.
Another friend brought up a great point on this too: “People need to dance and drink and such. Most jazz musicians have chosen to disregard those human impulses.” Look to the work of such artists as Medeski, Martin and Wood who have found a way to inspire people to dance to jazz again. Both the hippies and the hipsters have embraced the sound and fill the room (or the muddy festival fields) when they play.
The fact of the matter is that some branches of the musical tree (to use another commenter’s terminology) will end. Before the happens though, the preservationists will continue attempting to preserve and the academics will continue to try to take their audiences to school, both to the detriment of the genre.
And the mainstream? They’re going to continue to do what they damn well please.
Interesting article. It was a breath of fresh air reading your thoughts after Larkin’s nonsense. “Lascaux to Jackson Pollack in fifty years”? Nonsense, but I guess it’s interesting nonsense. The same sort of dubious argument might be made against “modern” math or science, or probably any other academic discipline. I’ve heard so many different versions, but it essentially goes, “People don’t understand it or how to use it, so it must be bad.” Differential equations aren’t helpful for balancing a checkbook (technology hasn’t totally done away with checkbooks yet, has it?), and genetics doesn’t tell you everything you will ever want to know about your child. Intellectual pursuits have a very important purpose, and by definition they’re only understood by a relatively small number of people. It’s not as if they’re less important, human, or beautiful because only a few understand. In my opinion, not all music is for drinking and dancing, nor is all art for hanging above the dining table. When a critic doesn’t try to put himself or herself in the mindset of each artist, and consider each piece of art on its own terms, there’s a tendency to make unwarranted generalizations and assumptions. Larkin doesn’t seem to realize that the difficulty of understanding the value of some art is why thoughtful and intelligent critics are necessary in the first place. Personally, I welcome any bit of intellectualism that comes along in the art world or “mainstream” society.
Keep up the good work, John.
As someone who’s been a fan of jazz since my early teens, I found this very interesting. I’ve been on both sides of arguments about jazz. I’ve long derided those I consider “sellouts,” such as Kenny G and his ilk who call their music jazz (but who are also popular with the mainstream). I’ve also found myself becoming resentful at times of those in the jazz community who consider themselves above the mainstream because the mainstream doesn’t “get” their music.
If you’re not playing to attract a large audience, that’s fine. In fact, I highly respect those who do so. But it’s a bit hypocritical then isn’t it to deride the mainstream for not wanting to hear what you have to say. I do think that there are those artists who can do both. Miles Davis sold a whole lot of albums and attracted large crowds throughout his career. It wasn’t until the last few years that you could accuse him of selling out in any way. John’s example of MMW is another good one. They’ve been commercially successful, but are always challenging themselves musically. I’m sure there are others I could mention here, but the brain is a bit lacking today.
An interesting topic, John, and I’m glad you tackled it.
“He established common ground with his audience via the songbook of an amazing popular songwriter …”
This is why Hancock is one of the giants of the genre. He kept his ears open. Has it occurred to the players out there that perhaps some people are tired of hearing “All the Things You Are” for the thousandth time?
Potter, Mehldau and a few others aside, obviously not.
MMW and other jam bands have the right idea: give something back.
Find relevance and/or common ground with your audience. Or, to couch it in Larkin’s terms, pick up the slack and create some tension with your listener.