Workin' Cheap: Addendum

OK, sometimes you win.

The day after turning down the gig I described in my previous post, I got called to do another engagement for the same week in March.

This one is 6 services for AA scale, which comes out to around $1300. That's about 2.5 times what the previous job offer would have paid. Plus, its a more interesting show, with top notch players.

I feel vindicated. And extremely lucky.

Workin' Cheap: A Conundrum

What are a few hours of making music worth? For those of us engaged in this endeavor as professionals, there's isn't a more trying time than during a recession to ask this question.

I just got offered a week's worth of work. Its a gig I've done every March for the past 4 years. The first time I played it (2006), it paid $750 for 6 services. Not bad. The following 2 years I relented to a $100 pay cut because, well, March is generally slow and a couple of good people were going to be on the gig as well. Plus, I figured that it was at least $100 per service, which is not terrible. This year the pay for the same amount of work was offered to me at $540 and I said no.

Yes, I know we're in the midst of an economic downturn. Yes, I need the money. Yes, March is still painfully slow. But I said no anyway, and here's why:

If I agree to work for $200 less than this particular gig paid just 4 years ago, then there is zero incentive for the folks doing the hiring to even consider raising the pay scale in the future, even if the economy starts going gangbusters and they have money to burn. If they can get someone with my level of skill and experience to play the job for this ridiculously low rate, that hurts not only me but everyone else in the talent pool of capable musicians.

Musicians tend to think mostly about the short term. I know because I generally do it myself. Gotta make the mortgage this month, which means I need to make x number of dollars between my performing and teaching incomes. If this was the only way to look at it I'd have to say yes to whatever work gets flung in my direction. But, of course, in the long run I'd only be shooting myself (and my peers) in the foot.

This is a very tough decision to make, as any freelance musician will tell you. I don't have another gig to fall back on for that week in March, although something might come in between now and then. So this is an educated gamble I'm making about my future in this business.

But the sad truth is that once I start working for sub-standard compensation it will be very difficult to convince those who would hire me that I'm actually worth being paid a living wage for the service I provide. And that's not good for any of us.

Concert Review: Dave Holland Quintet at Mandel Hall 1/25/09

What an inspiring pleasure it was to experience Dave Holland's wonderful band last night. Playing to a packed and enthusiastic crowd at the University of Chicago's premier concert venue, the Quintet demonstrated why it has garnered such a great worldwide reputation.

I've been a fan of Holland's for well over three decades, but I've never been more impressed with any of his ensembles. With the exception of drummer Nate Smith, this group has been together for 10+ years. It takes that kind of time to develop the musical empathy and kinship that is evident in this band. There's a level of listening and group dynamics that goes far beyond the norm for jazz groups. It is the kind of group communication one can hear in the recordings of Ellington's band, the first Bill Evans trio, Coltrane's classic quartet, Miles quintet from the early 60's and very few other bands.

Each player is a virtuoso in his own right. Robin Eubanks (trombone) and Chris Potter (saxophones) each possess prodigious technique and a strong musical personality. Both horn players have contributed some cool tunes to the book, a couple of which we had the good fortune to hear last night. Vibist Steve Nelson has developed into a masterful accompanist as well as a powerful soloist with a wry sense of humor. Nate Smith had to fill some pretty big shoes when Billy Kilson left the band, but he has proven to be a worthy addition. He's got great groove, sensitive ears and doesn't overplay, even when the music is at its most intense. Dave Holland is not only a great bassist, but has established himself as one of jazz's unique master composers and band leaders.

For more insight into Holland's career, check out the piece I wrote for jazz.com a few months ago.

Rather than give a tune by tune review of the concert, I'm going to describe what makes this music work so well from my perspective. First of all, Holland's group concept is very democratic. While it is clear that it is his band (he gets the gigs, pays the cats, writes most of the material, etc), there is more than ample room for every musician to express himself. Unlike so many mainstream jazz groups, the Quintet puts the emphasis on ensemble playing rather than operating only as a collection of soloists. So many jazz players seem to be in a hurry to get to their own solo, seldom thinking about the composition as a whole. This band functions much more like a true ensemble, where the players all contribute to collectively shape each piece.

Holland arranges the music with a careful ear for orchestration and soloistic balance. Each tune features one or two musicians as soloists; various players lay out at different times. We got to hear Nelson and Smith play as a duo on How's Never; Potter and Holland teamed up without the others on another tune. The leader laid out a few times, allowing Smith and Nelson to play behind one of the horn soloists. These players all seem to revel in supporting one another, something I don't see or hear often.

The Quintet works with unusual song forms and meters. It seems like a matter of principle that Holland almost never walks straight 4/4 quarter notes. This group is quite comfortable with compound meters like 5 and 7, and with mixed meters. They make these thorny rhythmic underpinnings feel groovy and natural - so much so that the ease with which the group handles these complexities makes one forget the odd meters altogether.

There's a terrific sense of playful give and take with this band. These musicians are generous with one another, as they are with their audience. I've barely mentioned the high level of skills and chops these players possess. That may be because, despite their ability to execute both complex and subtle ideas, there's very little "showing off" or grandstanding in evidence when they play.

Finally, a word about the audience at this Dave Holland Quintet concert. I was thrilled to see such a large and sophisticated crowd, and even more delighted to see how many young folks were there to hear this music. I'm sure there were a lot of musicians present, but I didn't overhear much technical talk on the way in or out. This leads me to believe that a decent percentage of the attendees were interested "civilians", perhaps the same kind of folks who turn out for jazz festivals and gigs at Symphony Center or the Jazz Showcase. Even if the music might be too harmonically, rhythmically or texturally "advanced" for some people, I think the integrity and playfulness of the group is contagious.

After the last tune of the set, the crowd jumped to its feet and roared for an encore. Holland quipped that we were "very persuasive", so the band played another tune. I'm sure it was just another gig for them, but for those of us fortunate enough to be listening, it was a special night.

Let It Breathe

What makes a jazz solo great? Why do musicians keep coming back to certain master players for inspiration in developing their own skills and style? Is there any single quality common to the most admired (and most transcribed) solos in the jazz tradition?

Rhythm, whether it is a sense of swing or groove or an individual player's use of rhythmic elements, is crucial, of course. Note choices (the "melody" or pitch content) is also critically important. Dynamics, articulation, style... all of these factors contribute to the overall quality of a jazz performance. But I would argue that none of these elements, taken separately, inevitably makes for a great, memorable solo.

It seems to me that, to be effective in a deep way, a solo must breathe. There must be a dynamic sense of phrasing where all of the individual musical elements converge in a convincing way. The oft-mentioned balance between the expected and the unexpected is certainly a part of this, but it is more than toying with the listener's expectations that gives a solo that certain something that makes it all but unforgettable.

The music must breathe. There must be a sense of line, of phrase, a certain elegance and balance. Horn players have a bit of an advantage in accomplishing this goal. After all, one must literally breathe to operate brass and woodwind instruments! Rhythm instruments can be played continuously, no "stopping" to breathe is necessary.

Of course, letting the music breathe is not just a matter of physical necessity. When you think of a great tune, classical piece or jazz solo is it possible to grasp it as a whole? It seems to me that we recall music in chunks or phrases that stick with us and, when put in context, somehow hang together with a feeling of inevitability. It is almost as if the piece HAD to unfold the way it did for it to make such a powerful impression.

As I write this I keep hearing Donna Lee in my mind's ear. That tune has a marvelous shape; it breathes in exactly the way I'm trying to describe. Charlie Parker was a master of all of the elements of jazz improvisation (that is certainly stating the obvious!). But if you analyze his solos in terms of phrasing - where he plays, where he leaves space, the varied length of phrases he plays, the shapes of the lines he plays; his music breathes in such a masterful, elegant way. That sense of inevitability is most definitely present in many of his solos, and Donna Lee (essentially a composed solo on the changes to Back Home In Indiana) is a great example of this quality.

Jazz musicians spend a lot of time working on fundamentals - scales, arpeggios, transcribing, ear training etc. If you're reading this you no doubt know exactly what I'm talking about. Becoming an effective soloist with something to say takes a lot of effort and time.

Here's a suggestion for the coming year's practice sessions: put some of your attention on phrasing and breathing regardless of what instrument you play. Listen not only to the great instrumentalists but also to the great vocalists. Pay attention not only to when they breathe, but also why they chose to start or end a phrase where they did. Experiment with varying lengths of your phrases. You can do this while working on your fundamentals as well as when you're soloing.

Let it breathe.