Jazz vs Classical Music Notation

The September '09 issue of JazzEd Magazine has a provocative article on jazz notation entitled Common Errors in Jazz Music Notation. The piece is by Lee Evans, a professor of music at Pace University and co-author of the book How To Play Chord Symbols in Jazz and Popular Music. Mr. Evans' central thesis is that jazz chord notation and spelling ought to conform to the standards used by classical musicians.

I contend that harmonic notation serves a different purpose for jazz musicians than for classical players. Jazz players use chord changes as a means of giving shape to melodic improvisation. The chords determine (or at least suggest) the scalar context out of which the improvisor operates. Classical musicians reading lead sheets or fake book arrangements use the chord symbols in a much more static way - to accompany the melody of the tune they're reading. The scalar context is unimportant to someone who is not engaged in improvising.

Hence, there is no good reason why the nomenclature jazz musicians use ought to be considered inferior, or "incorrect and sloppy" as Mr. Evans would have it. The way jazz players notate, read and interpret harmony is very well suited to their needs; classical notation is irrelevant and often impractical.

It seems to me that jazz players tend to conceive chords based on three factors: harmonic function (or context), readability and aural quality. In other words, for a jazz musician, where the harmony derives from, how easy it is to recognize quickly and how the chord sounds take precedence over the rules of classical harmony.

For example, Mr. Evans is adamant that the chord spelled C E G Bb Eb ought to be called C7b10 instead of C7#9, unless the top note is written as a D#. Of course he is correct IF you accept the point of view that the way jazz musicians generally think of chords is inferior. The dominant chord with an altered 9th is not found in any diatonic scale; it is extracted from the diminished (or octatonic) scale. Therefore, the "classical" rules for note spelling don't necessarily apply. It is equally correct, from a jazz perspective, to think of the altered 9ths on a C7 chord as Db and Eb, and, given our predisposition to favor flats over sharps when reading, Eb is preferable to D#. (Just ask any saxophone or trumpet player which spelling they'd rather read.) The alteration "b10" is simply meaningless to a jazz player because the significant implication of the diminished scale is the presence of both altered 9ths and the absence of the natural 9th.

Another example is the chord Cdim7, which he insists must be spelled C Eb Gb Bbb. Though I get his point that, on paper, C up to A is a major 6th and not a diminished 7th, I'm quite certain that most of us would prefer not to have to interpret a Bbb on the fly. How it sounds rather than how it looks ought to be the determining factor. No matter how you spell the notes, a diminished 7th chord consists entirely of minor 3rds stacked on top of one another, and A is a whole lot easier to deal with than Bbb.

Mr. Evans also has a problem with the minor 6th chord. He feels that Cm6 ought to translate to C Eb G Ab. The problem here is that he is taking the chord form out of its most commonly used context, namely, as a tonic chord in a minor key. Jazz musicians don't usually use natural minor as tonic; we think of that chord as being extracted from melodic minor. So Cm6 really is C Eb G A. We use the m6 designation to distinguish that sound from the minor 7th (C Eb G Bb), which most commonly functions as a ii or vi chord.

The final part of the article states that "until such time as the...questionable practices... have been modified or changed, it is imperative that musical purists learn to function within these broken rules of theory, if they are to participate successfully in the jazz world".

This is an elitist and arrogant statement. First, Mr. Evans dismisses the traditional and highly functional way jazz musicians communicate with one another, calling our nomenclature both "questionable" and "broken". Then he makes matters worse by implying that "musical purists", whoever they may be, can "participate successfully in the jazz world" by adapting to our "incorrect, sloppy and broken" system.

Seems to me that there might be a few more skills that need to be learned if a classical musician wants to play jazz. The implication that any classically trained musician can become a jazz player by adapting to our "broken" rules is as wrong as it is demeaning. Mr. Evans' assertion that the "language of jazz [is] unfriendly and difficult to comprehend" is based on a fundamental lack of understanding of how we use that language. The fact that it differs from classical harmony is a function of its practical application. Different doesn't mean broken, incorrect or sloppy, unless one views jazz as an inferior genre - and I doubt very much that this is what Mr. Evans intends to communicate.

Your thoughts are welcome.

Jazz Guitar Video: Blues in C

One more instructional video for guitarists, this one showing how to play the jazz style blues.

Jazz Guitar Videos

PlayJazzNow.com presents two new instructional videos on chord voicings for jazz guitarists:

Loud and Louder: More Absurd Gig Stories

The last two nights have been a study in wackiness out there in gigland. Thursday night I played with a jazz quartet at a posh downtown hotel. We were human ambiance for a group of about 200 corporate types in a small ballroom. We were playing some nice quiet standards, minding our own business as usual. At several points during the first set some cheese from the "end client" came rushing up to the bandstand to tell us that we were too loud. This was utterly ridiculous. First, we don't play loud; we have been doing this kind of work for decades and the prime directive of this kind of gig is to play sotto voce enough for the guests to be able to converse normally. This usually results in there being a dull roar of voices accompanied by a barely distinguishable music track. Music for an ant farm, one of my friends calls it. Also, I was observing people right in front and to the side of the bandstand. None of them were leaning into one another to be heard or shouting or showing any signs of aural distress. It got to the point where we were practically miming.

Then tonight I played an event at a large, well-known store in downtown Chicago. I will protect the guilty by withholding the name of the place. We were on a small stage in a sizable open area. This was a piano, bass and drums jazz trio - not a very powerful group, volume-wise.

As the festivities were about to commence, we noticed that the recorded music was still "on" in the room (in fact, it was the second movement of Beethoven's 6th Symphony). We asked our contact to see if it could be turned off and she got right on the horn to call the A/V dude. We sat there on stage waiting for a healthy ten minutes. Finally, we were asked to start playing and assured that the recorded music would be terminated momentarily.

So we played a tune. As we were finishing up, the final chord was swallowed up by the sound of some song by Prince. Apparently, the classical music had been replaced by dance music and was, of course, much louder and more obnoxious. So we sat there again for ten or fifteen minutes, waiting for the aforementioned engineer to, you guessed it, turn off the music. Again, and this time less pleasantly, we were asked to start playing regardless of the utter absurdity of trying to make music over this din. But - we're pros, so we soldiered on.

Eventually, someone high enough on the managerial food chain managed to find the "off" switch and we were left to our own sonic devices for a few minutes. Suddenly we were interrupted yet again, this time by the sound of the DJ literally blasting from the center of the store. It was teeth rattlingly loud. We were well over a hundred yards away but we could barely hear ourselves think, let alone play anything coherent.

I flashed back to the previous night and pondered the philosophical implications of just what, exactly, too loud might mean. Clearly, anyone even close to the DJ's speakers couldn't possibly hold a conversation above that decibel level, but we were told that this is what the store wanted. They wanted to create the impression that the people over there were in a dance club. Meanwhile, we were supposed to be playing in an intimate jazz bar or some such silliness.

Luckily it was only a five hour gig.

Branford's Band Bugs Me

The cover story of the May 2008 issue of Down Beat is a profile of Branford Marsalis' working quartet. The article's central theme is that this band is so bad that any humility about what they do is unnecessary. The opening quote is "We do things better than any band out here." The group's most recent CD is aptly titled Braggtown, so it seems that these men are very sure that they are, indeed, the shit.

It strikes me that, however earth-shattering their music might be (and I haven't heard this particular album yet), their superior attitude reeks of grandiosity and schoolyard bullying. Here's a particularly annoying exchange regarding the role of the bass player in jazz:

(Bassist) Eric Revis: "I've had this argument with several bass players. They say, 'Why can't we play lines? I want to play like Charlie Parker.' "

Marsalis: "Then get a guitar!"

Revis: "This misconception exists that the bass has to be liberated. Liberated from what? Did Wilbur Ware need to be liberated? Does Charlie Haden?"

There's so much wrong with this that it is difficult for me to know where to begin. First of all, if Mr. Revis prefers to play with "thump" as his primary contribution to the quartet then more power to him. It is unclear what he means by "liberation" in this context. The traditional role of the bass as the propulsive harmonic and rhythmic core of a jazz group is something many of us embrace. But does that have to preclude developing ourselves as inventive melodic soloists as well? If "liberation" implies progress in terms of physical technique, harmonic knowledge, and rhythmic/melodic sophistication then I'm all for it.

But just in case Mr. Revis has missed it, playing "like Charlie Parker" is not something new to bassists. He would do well to familiarize himself with the music of Charles Mingus, Oscar Pettiford and Ray Brown, just to name a few powerful and inventive soloists who no one would accuse of failing in their respective roles as rhythm section players.

Second, to put Wilbur Ware on a par with Charlie Haden is just silly. Mr. Ware was an accomplished working bassist who had a decent career despite various physical and mental problems. Mr. Haden is as deep a soloist as he is a stomping member of a rhythm section. But he is multi-faceted; he composes, he is a bandleader, he has a very distinctive sound, and he was a member of one of the most influential bands in the history of modern jazz. A little liberation would probably have served Mr. Ware well. And, ironically, one of Mr. Haden's most successful projects over the years has been his big band, the Liberation Music Orchestra. There's simply no comparison between these two musicians.

Finally, Mr. Marsalis' flippant rejoinder reminds me of just how regressive "creative" musicians can be. Is there really only one acceptable conception of bass playing? Is progress allowed or do bass players still have to sound like Pops Foster? If so, perhaps tenor saxophonists should have never been allowed to go further than Lester Young (if that's not too modern for you).

Mr. Marsalis shows his ignorance with another comment about the Ellington band from 1941. He believes that the band played "with two mikes placed 18 feet in front of the band, 18 feet high and about 16 feet away (whatever this means), and you can hear the bass crystal clear, with no amp or mike. That's the sound I want." [Italics mine]

Look at any picture of Duke's bands from the 40's and I guarantee that you will see a big old fashioned microphone in front of the bass player. It is true that horns, brass and drums were all played softer in that era but there is no way that Jimmy Blanton, for instance, would have been audible without some sound support. The bass is simply an acoustically soft instrument; that's why bass players have been struggling for decades to perfect a way to amplify the natural sound of the instrument. I can say without false humility that many of us have succeeded in doing just that.

Let me offer these gentlemen a list of "liberated", influential bass players who have the respect of most savvy listeners and musicians. Most of these players, by the way, don't feel the need to brag about their talent; nor do they make it a point to tell other musicians what kind of sound is acceptable.

Scott LaFaro, Dave Holland, Ron Carter, John Patitucci, Eddie Gomez, Marc Johnson, Christian McBride, Stanley Clarke, Paul Chambers, Brian Bromberg, Gary Peacock, Michael Moore...

Another Jazz Piano Video

Busy busy busy with PlayJazzNow.com videos. This one demonstrates good rootless voicings for playing the blues on the piano.

Jazz Piano Voicings video

PlayJazzNow.com just released our first non-bass related video. This one is a lesson on voicing chords for the ii/V progression for aspiring jazz pianists. Please check it out:

250 Jazz Patterns book

I just downloaded my copy of 250 Jazz Patterns by expatriate saxophonist Evan Tate. Studying patterns derived from scale and chord forms is one valid way to increase your jazz vocabulary and Evan's book is a well thought out addition to my library of pattern books. There are plenty of exercises in there for beginning improvisers as well as challenging stuff to work on if you've been at it for awhile.

PlayJazzNow.com Releases New Tracks

I thought you should know that I just did a comprehensive new release of jazz standards play along tracks on my website PlayJazzNow.com.




I'm especially proud of the innovative tracks we've created especially for jazz vocalists. I've also added a bunch of new stuff for bass players, horn players, pianists and guitarists and drummers.

Please check it out and let me know what you think.

Feel vs Content

Decades ago I went to a club in Chicago to hear some local legends play. They were the venerable "old guys" that some of us younger players were supposed to be in awe of. I remember sitting there thinking that this was supposed to be really good; I was supposed to feel transported by this music. But the truth for me was that it didn't sound particularly good to me. The friend I was with summed it up pithily: "This music feels a lot better than it sounds." In other words, the rhythm section was happening but the soloists sounded pretty tired and uninteresting. Since then that criterion has been central to my ability to judge the music I play and the music I hear.

Sometimes the groove can be great, but the other aspects of the music are flaccid. The tune, singer or soloist can be boring or lame. So it feels good but doesn't sound very good. Or there can be a great composition or an inspired performance by an individual, but the rhythm section might not be clicking. Sounds good, feels bad. When you get both aspects of the music in the plus category, then you've got something extraordinary. Both of Miles' quintets are in this lofty category.

I've been playing this music for more than 30 years, so I do have an idea how it's supposed to sound and feel. As a bass player I'm primarily responsible for the feel side of things but I give almost equal mental bandwidth to the "sound" as well. I try to stay with the song form, play in tune, and shape good bass melodies, whether I'm accompanying or soloing.

There's an argument to be made that if it feels good (ie, if the rhythm section is taking care of business) then everything else will fall into place. I have witnessed that. But there are occasions when no amount of groove can compensate for an untalented horn player or singer.

So, this blog: I'm going for feel AND content, striving for a balance between readable and provocative.