Early Jazz Influences

This week I was asked an interesting question. A friend of mine had attended our university's jazz big band concert which I was playing in. She had never actually been to a live jazz performance, or let alone had much exposure to the genre. After the concert she told me she wanted to explore jazz and asked me, "where do I start?"

The question made me look back and try to remember what jazz I had listened to when I first took interest in the genre. 

Some of my early experience with jazz was due to my Grandpa - for a couple consecutive Christmases he gave me famous jazz recordings: Benny Goodman, Dave Brubeck's Take Five, etc. Brubeck proved especially formative for me; listening to "Blue Rondo a la Turk" and "Strange Meadowlark" was great ear-training for a 12-year-old. 

During that middle school age I continued to explore jazz. One of the albums I listened to the most was Harry Connick, Jr.'s Blue Light, Red Light. That record offered a particularly rhythmic New Orleans sound - a good counterbalance to Brubeck and the other things I had been exposed to. I think what I enjoyed so much about Harry Connick, Jr.'s music was the lively, stomping feel it had to it. It sounded fun. That type of music inspired the 12-year-old me to keep pursuing jazz because it showed me the enjoyment that I could find in it.

As I studied jazz piano more seriously in high school I was exposed to other names, artists that only jazz lovers listen to: McCoy Tyner, Art Tatum, Oscar Peterson, Bill Evans, etc. I continue to explore their discographies and I still love coming across other artists and hearing new sounds.

So what was my recommendation to my friend? Where should she start her exploration into jazz? I simply told her to start where I started - to check out Dave Brubeck and Harry Connick, Jr. Hopefully she'll hear the fun that I heard, and that the music will spark an appreciation for jazz in her like it did in me.

A Glimpse at Robert Glasper, Jazz Pianist

Every once in a while a friend will turn me on to a new artist, and instead of just giving it a quick listen, I find myself listening to track after track, nearly hypnotized.

And hypnotic really is the word for Robert Glasper's music. He's a jazz pianist, but beyond the basic realm of standards and bebop (in which he is undoubtedly well-versed), he manages to break out and modernize jazz in an accessible, quasi R&B style. He obviously has chops - he knows how to play - but in the recordings I listened to, it was apparent that Glasper made the effort to harness back. He seemed to be lulling the listener into a state of relaxed awareness, vamping on a mellow, extended form, and then suddenly moving into a section of intricate technique. The contrast makes for a truly engaging listening experience: since the listener knows Glasper's ability, their ear is naturally drawn in with expectancy during the mellower moments. 

Check out his version of Stella By Starlight, recorded live at Capitol Studios:

Besides his trio work, Glasper is involved in an array of genres. He has released a couple of R&B/Hip-hop albums, which don't showcase his technique, but still highlight his musical ingenuity. You also may have heard him on Kendrick Lamar's newest Grammy-winning album, on which he consulted and recorded background jazz piano. 

Artists like Robert Glasper show that the energy to reignite jazz in the 21st century exists. They are proof that musicians want to push the boundaries and take what came before them in a new direction.

Even More Great Film Scoring: The Genius of Joe Hisaishi

I suppose I've been on this movie music kick for a few weeks now, but I couldn't stop without making mention of Joe Hisaishi.

One of the soundtracks that most moved me as a child, one whose melodies have stuck with me, and one that adds so much nostalgia to the film itself is Hisaishi's score for Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away.

Hisaishi is a Japanase composer, and his style is naturally different than the American sound of John Williams and the like. Hisaishi's score for Spirited Away is much more introspective - and honestly, much more delicately gorgeous - than a lot of American film scores. In fact, the movie opens with the isolated notes of a sole piano, and while the music rises and develops throughout the film, the returning use of piano remains a consistent motif. 

The use of delicate piano in this way seems to tell the tale of the film through the eyes of the protagonist, a young girl named Chihiro. The melodies mirror her experiences: when she feels alone, the piano, too, is solitary. When she's frightened, the piano plays in a low register and exudes the same anxiety. The piano almost seems to have a voice of innocence, wordlessly relating the inner thoughts and feelings of a young girl far from home.

The score is genius in many other ways. Hisaishi's themes paint Spirited Away with lush brushstrokes of sound, adding so much depth and emotion to what is an already beautiful work of art. 

His score is truly a triumph. 

More Great Film Scoring: "Inception"

A couple of weeks ago I started looking at the genre of film composition on this blog. I hope to eventually delve into the inner workings of the film scoring industry, but for now I'd like to just look at another score that I consider influential to me:

Hans Zimmer's original soundtrack for Inception.

This recording marked the first time I fell in love with a film score before even seeing the movie. As I perused iTunes one afternoon in 2010, I saw that the Inception soundtrack had already been released at least two weeks before the film was due to premiere. Since I was eagerly anticipating the movie, the score's early appearance intrigued me and I decided to listen to all the available samples.

Even before I'd seen the film, the music alone managed to take me on an aural journey. Sure, the titles (like "Dream Within a Dream") were evocative and inspired my imagination, but the music told its own story - one of intense thought and focus, even of confusion and disorder.

Having heard the soundtrack before hand, watching the movie was all the more exciting; it was fascinating to see just what events the music was juxtaposed over. The marriage of music and film here was so cohesive - each one enhanced the other and combined to form an amazing result.

When I experienced the effect of the soundtrack in this way (i.e. listening before seeing the movie), I realized again that movie music, when done right, can be a force of its own. 

A-F-R-O: 17-Year-Old Rap Prodigy

Sometimes, because so much of today's music seems fabricated by the big record labels, you start to wonder if any raw talent is actually making its way to the surface. You wonder if the "inspiration stories" you used to hear about, where kids push the limits and climb their way to fame, ever happen anymore.

Then you see this.

The video tells the story of A-F-R-O, a young rapper who was discovered in an online contest. When A-F-R-O submitted his tape he was only 16 years old, but the judges mistook him for a 30-year-old man. Maybe that's because of his deep voice and fluid vocabulary, but either way, he made his mark.

The video poses the question, "can this 17-year-old reignite the golden age of hip-hop?". After hearing A-F-R-O's unbelievably inventive freestyles and diving into his impressive discography, I definitely think so. 

But beyond his obvious natural talent, A-F-R-O's going to make an impact because he's doing this for the right reasons. Like he says in the video, he just wants to save someone's life the way music saved his. 

And when that's the motivation and passion behind his art, you know he's bound to make it big.

Great Film Scoring - "The Shawshank Redemption"

Today I'd like to start taking a look at the world of film scoring, a sector of the music industry I've been drawn to for a number of years.

Though there's so much to discuss and dissect in this industry, for now I'd just like to talk about one of my favorite soundtracks. It's an album I consider a truly great film score; it's one of the scores that opened my eyes to the emotion behind film music and inspired me to experiment with my own composition.

The album I'm talking about is Thomas Newman's original 1994 soundtrack for The Shawshank Redemption.

I was a junior in high school when I first watched Shawshank, and its compelling story of the human spirit - victory over oppression - really spoke to me. The movie seemed to exude a sense of triumph, but only after bringing the viewer on an honest journey of highs and lows. I realized that a large part of the film's emotion, while powerful on its own, was owed to its music. 

I bought a copy of the soundtrack and listened to it many times. Something about it was so mesmerizing; maybe it was the way the strings determinedly yet solemnly introduced the opening notes (aptly titled Stoic Theme). Maybe it was the melodic glimmers of hope contrasted with an otherwise bleak motif. Maybe it was the way the music seemed to tell the movie's story all by itself.

Whatever it was, just by listening to Newman's score I could grasp the same sense of triumph that the film portrayed. And that's why I consider it a truly great score - it has an evocative power all of its own. 

I don't come across soundtracks very often that do this as well as Shawshank, but exciting things are still happening in the world of film composition. So next time you watch a movie, pay attention to the score - there's a lot to discover.

Disruptive Creativity

Sometimes in the world of music we think there's nothing new under the sun. We hit creative walls and don't know how to get past them. We think all musical ideas have been covered before - that there are no new chord progressions, no new melodies, no new styles.

So when something so innovative and fresh comes out, I wonder, "how did the artist come up with that? Did it just pop into their head? Was it something they heard that inspired their sound?"

Take a look at this TED talk. Tim Harford talks about how sometimes the best way to solve a problem (or get past a creative wall) is through disruption. He suggests that we take random, even stupid steps to get new results. For example, he talks about Coldplay, and how during the production of one of their albums they didn't like what they were writing. So each band member decided to switch instruments with one another - a seemingly pointless move - and the resulting sound turned out to be just what they were looking for.

Of the anecdotes he shares, my favorite is about Keith Jarrett and the unplayable piano. It's the perfect case of a "messy problem": Jarrett, a world-renowned jazz pianist, shows up to play a solo concert in Cologne, and discovers that the piano is in poor condition and won't serve for his performance. But after being persuaded to play, Jarrett adapts his playing to meet the piano's deficiencies. The result? The #1 solo jazz piano album of all time.

So next time you hit a wall, remember to mix things up. Try something stupid and random. Break out of your boundaries. Disrupt your creativity.