In high school, in our age of the new driver’s license, I had a crew of friends that became very anti-social. Most of the kids with new driver’s licenses found a new freedom in planning a night out, not on a dad’s watch- but their own, or not having to ask a mom for a drop off at a girl’s house (or even worse, a pickup at a girl’s house. Awkward). Instead, these guys asked their parents for use of the family car for the night just to drive around town with each other. They would pack five in a five seater or seven in a mini van, open all the windows, pass a spliff, and, most importantly, put on a jazz record- full blast. Then, for hours, just cruise. The only communication was the focused passing of the spliff and the yelps and groans that were their responses to the jazz record.
I never rode with them. I didn’t smoke but, more isolating, I didn’t know when to yell. I enjoyed jazz. I always have. But, I enjoyed jazz with the old folk that frequented Hill Auditorium for Wynton Marsalis. We put on nice clothes on a Sunday afternoon,Wynton charmed us with his anecdotes, and played impeccably. We clapped politely when the set was over.
This was not how the boys in the car on Huron River Drive listened to jazz. They interrupted when they wanted, responded when they were moved. They didn’t just let Wynton play for them (well, they quickly wrote Wynton off as a square and a sell out so it wasn’t Lincoln Center from the speakers anyway)- they were fully engaged as a part of the music. They said this is what jazz, the only true American art form, is about. Not about playing to concert halls and suits but to people, to individuals, to communities.
So, in order to get a chance to hang out with my friends and stuff, I am trying to learn jazz, “the language of jazz” (as taught by UM jazz prof. and jazz legend Geri Allen). On Thursday night, as a hands-on lesson, I had the great opportunity to see The Bad Plus, a ridiculous trio with roots in the Midwest. The Bad Plus is probably best known for covers of well known pop and rock songs including Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit and Neil Young’s Heart of Gold along with a new album of covers- For All I Care- that features vocalist Wendy Lewis. However, in the second of two shows, The Bad Plus played a set of mostly originals.
These guys are nuts. Ethan Iverson, on the keys, introduces the band and the set list with a stoicism straight out of a Roman sculpture however, upon sitting down, Iverson, the bass man Reid Anderson, and the drummer Dave King swing so hard and with so much emotion. While Iverson strokes the keys while seemingly doing leg squats over his bench, King pounds then caresses then pounds away at his drum set while pulling out an army of children’s play instruments to augment his sound. And, King yells just like my friends driving down Main St. He’s not speaking to his band mates or the audience, he’s yelling at his drum set, the sounds of his trio. Also, just like the dudes packed into the green CRV, the 9:30 show audience was a hip, young crowd- a bunch of giddy kids in the lobby after the show.
It was still the Lydia Mendelssohn Theater with assigned seating and shiny programs. There were still nicely dressed ushers escorting us to our seats. But, Thursday night, the spirit of the communal jazz experience- or, at least, how I am beginning to understand it- seemed to be in full fight with the powers that be, ‘the man’. Next time, UMS presents the Bad Plus live at the Blind Pig? Doors at 9, $10 cover? Or, UMS presents Wynton Marsalis and Lincoln Center Jazz playing ‘Flim’ by Aphex Twin (as The Bad Plus did Thursday night)? Or, will I have to start smoking weed to really understand what goes on in the car rides around town?
Over and out, Bennett
(Below are streams of my favorite Bad Plus album, ‘These Are The Vistas’ and the new album ‘For All I Care’) Oh, and for more live jazz, check out the UM Jazz Festival next Saturday. Christian McBride Band, Geri Allen, Rodney Whittaker, Detroit Jazz Festival Orchestra, University of Michigan Jazz Ensemble. Going to be crazy. Schedule here. Tickets here from Ticketmaster (or, as others have noted, ‘TicketBastard’).
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