So, during my last post, I promised to take a look at an offshoot of acid jazz: nu jazz. Sometimes called electro-jazz or future jazz, nu jazz seems to be a definite move toward the electronic and hip-hop influences that made appearances in acid jazz tracks like the song from Galliano in my previous post.
To illustrate this, let's look at a personal favorite of mine from the band Quantic:
As you can see, the general format and chord structure of the tune is very similar to that of mainstream jazz, but it's played out via a more modern medium. The idea of using loops the create music is especially strong in nu jazz due to its roots in techno and electronica, and if such simplicity is a sin, then "Life in the Rain" is certainly guilty. One writer from AllAboutJazz.com compared this particular style change to the grunge/punk reaction to rock and roll during the 90's; while this new jazz certainly borrows from its parent forms, it represents a shift toward simpler, more accessible form of expression that no longer required the virtuosity of its predecessors.
One could argue that this rejection of soloists is a step backward, but is it? Let's consider "Life in the Rain." What amazes me about this particular song is how subtle the layering of sound is -- each section of the song softly adds or subtracts a groove, which creates a gently flowing (but always driving, thanks to the steady, yet quiet tapping of the ride cymbal) musical experience. While we do hear a short solo from the guitar at (3:12), it's understated, allowing the listener to focus less on the individual skill of the player and more on the overall feeling of the song. The pensive and somewhat haunting voice samples, presumably musings on one's life direction, complete the mood and invite the listener to deeper thought.
I'll end this post with another track from Quantic. What do you think?
Hello again! If you're wondering where I've been all this time... well, I've been trying to puzzle that one out myself! To kick off what I'm hoping will be a blitzkrieg of blogs (blogs-krieg?), I'd like to start off by taking a look at the somewhat confusing (but deliciously fresh and funky) sub-genres of "acid" and "nu jazz."
First things first, let's have a track!
Acid jazz, to me, is like a trip through the musical buffet of the 1980's and 90's. Continuing in the traditions of fusion and jazz-funk, acid jazz tracks tend to blend musical elements from a wide array of genres; funk, hip-hop, jazz, disco, soul, and house music are some of the major contributors. While this extreme diversity can make it difficult to identify a track as being from this genre, it also offers a lot of creative flexibility to its artists.
Although it seems that many of the leading acid jazz groups are now US-based, the genre got its start in the nightclubs of Great Britain. The "rare groove" scene (a resurgence in interest in older jazz and funk albums) paved the way for disc jockeys such as Gilles Peterson and Norman Jay, who began to experiment with these sorts of albums in their mixes. By varying the speed on certain tracks or looping sections of a song, artists were able to entertain dancers and to put a new "spin" (if you'll pardon the pun) on tracks that were often overlooked at the time of their release. However, as Peterson once pointed out, acid jazz was still more of a gimmick or an inside joke than a real art form.
The Brand New Heavies, performing live.
The genre really came into its own with Gilles Peterson's establishment of two influential recording labels: Acid Jazz records and Talkin' Loud records, which drew new musicians such as the Brand New Heavies and Galliano; later these artists were followed by groups such as the Groove Collective in the US. Somewhere around this time, acid jazz saw a return to the virtuosity and musicianship of its jazz roots, with an emphasis on live bands performing and improvising instead of DJs sampling older tracks to create new music.
So, what does acid jazz actually sound like? As we've already discovered, the wide variety of possible influences on a given track make it difficult to pin down; however, I've noticed a few commonalities. Most acid jazz tracks draw on the funk tradition of a heavily present rhythm section, with drums, electric bass, and the occasional rhythmic, understated presence of an electric guitar hitting chords in the upper register. Electric piano also features heavily in most acid jazz tracks, sometimes taking on a soft texture to play backing chords, while on other songs it may be set to a more commanding sound resembling that of a Hammond B-3.
It seems logical that anything claiming to be an offshoot of jazz would retain at least a few of the characteristic instruments, such as the saxophone, trumpet, or vibraphone. While many acid jazz tracks DO incorporate these sounds, consider this track by Galliano:
Here, we hear this very prominent rhythm section, as well as other important aspects of many acid jazz songs: looped beats and sampling. The drum section, in this case, is simply a drum break looped across the length of the entire track, bringing a syncopated and constant sort of rhythm; this, coupled with the regular appearance of the phrase "Listen here!" and the rap-style vocals demonstrate the influence of hip-hop on the genre.
However, "Totally Together" is hardly your "typical" acid jazz track (if there is such a thing). I'd like to end this entry with a track from Norman Jay, a prominent DJ on the scene. Be sure to listen for the heavy influence of house music on this one!
I'm more than a little late in posting this particular listening session -- my apologies!
For this in-depth listening session, I decided to go back to what inspired me to take this course in the first place. I suppose that I've always had a sort of implicit appreciation for jazz (though I probably wouldn't have admitted it), but it wasn't until a friend of mine from back home played some Charles Mingus for me over Thanksgiving break that I really started to get into it. I was transfixed by the talented bass lines and the complex layering of instruments in pieces like "Haitian Fight Song" and "Moanin'," so much so that I spent the next few days scouring Youtube and internet music players for more to hear.
Charles Mingus
Tonight, I'll be taking a look at "Moanin'," which is off of Mingus's Blues & Roots album, which was recorded in 1959 by Atlantic studios. This album is said to be a return to the early blues, gospel, and New Orleans jazz roots that we've been discussing in class; according to AllMusic.com, Mingus wrote and recorded this album in response to critics who said that his music didn't "swing" enough for their tastes. I don't know how true these observations were, but Blues & Roots certainly swings!
"Moanin'" opens up with a sultry 16-bar introductory segment by the baritone saxophone, which introduces the main riff that carries the A section and hints at the snappy, swinging tempo that drives the piece. Drums and the trombone, followed by the double bass and the tenor sax, each creep their way into the piece in 16-bar intervals and settle into supporting roles. Next come the piano and the alto sax, taking another 16 bars to establish themselves before the alto launches into a solo played atop the other instruments while the tenor sax plays a sort of counter-melody in what might be considered the A' part of the piece.
Somewhat abruptly, the listener is then dropped into a slightly more subdued, "classy"-sounding B segment of about twenty seconds. During this, the alto sax plays a few modest notes while the other instruments gradually build in intensity until releasing the tension in a flurry of descending notes. The piece then returns to the A section for another 16 bars, building the layers of instruments back up on top of the driving rhythm of bass and baritone saxophone. Next comes what I suppose might be considered the C section, comprised of solos from the alto and tenor saxes.
What happens after the tenor sax solo quite frankly blew my mind, the first time I heard it. The rhythm section drops out almost entirely, playing only a few sparse notes while a second alto saxaphone cuts through the silence with another solo for a full 32 bars. Then, as the alto sax continues its solo, the bass, drums, and piano return return with 8 bars of a different beat that's half the speed of the rest of the piece, though the frantic wandering of the bass's notes originally made me think that it was faster than it was. After this brief adventure, the original beat and rhythm return for another 16 bars as the sax finishes its solo, almost as if nothing happened.
Finally, Mingus brings us back to the A segment of the piece, again building up from the bass, drums and baritone all the way to the dueling of the alto and tenor saxophones. A return to the brief B section wraps up the piece nicely, ending with ringing notes from all the instruments.
Determining the form of the piece proved to be a bit of a challenge for me, with all of the intricate and unexpected turns that it takes. With that in mind, I believe it can best be described as A-A'-B-A-C-D-C-A-A'-B. Whew!
Tonight, as a part of my research, I'd like to explore a unique rendition of Miles Davis's Kind of Blue album that challenges established standards of producing jazz music.
Commissioned by blogger and tech entrepreneur Andy Baio, the album Kind of Bloop explores a rather odd question: what would the masterful sounds of Miles Davis and other great jazz musicians sound like if they were played using the quirky mediums associated with "chiptune" music? Using the website Kickstarter.com (an online platform allowing users to post ideas and pledge money to fund creative projects, which Baio helped create), Andy set out to legally release this tribute album with the talents of five chiptune artists.
But first, what are "chiptunes"? A relatively recent phenomenon, chiptunes could be seen as a strange fusion of computer programming, video game nostalgia, and synthesized electronic music. Artists in this genre enjoy the "blips" and "bloops" that can be produced through manipulation of the sound chips of older game consoles such as the Nintendo Entertainment System or the Commodore 64. The results vary depending on the exact hardware used, but in general, this medium creates a very raw, unpolished electronic sound that nevertheless has a certain appeal to those familiar with tunes such as those from classic games like Super Mario Brothers or The Legend of Zelda.
For Kind of Bloop, the artists were given three months and a decent amount of liberty with interpreting each track of the album; however, I would imagine that this was still a very difficult task given the inherent problems of the medium. Chiptune music is created by using computer code to manipulate the pulse wave generators and other sound generators found within the sound hardware of the outdated gaming equipment. Because of this, artists can struggle to produce the sounds they want not only because of their own programming limitations, but also because these chips had a limited number of sound channels to work with.
Kind of Bloop's reception when it was released on the internet in August of 2009 was... mixed. Some hardcore jazz fans complained that using chiptunes to re-create the sounds of this masterful album was gimmicky, crude, and even insulting. Others, however, defended this tribute by pointing out that the greatest jazz artists were always experimenting with new and unusual techniques and styles.
For my first critical listening assignment, I decided that nothing says jazz like a track from Miles Davis's Kind of Blue (1959), one of the most successful and celebrated albums in the history of jazz. Tonight, I'll be covering the influential opening song, "So What."
"So What" features a sextet ensemble that makes use of a trumpet, double bass, drums, piano, and alto and tenor saxophones. It seems to follow the standard 32 bar format that is so common in popular songs in America, as well as the standard A A B A structure. One fascinating thing about this piece (as well as other tracks on the album, such as "Flamenco Sketches") is that it was not composed with standard chord progressions or harmonies; instead, Davis opted for using modes. According to an NPR article, Davis chose to provide his fellow musicians with one or two modes (or scales, as the article helpfully explains) within which to create the melody and their solos. "So What" jogs along at an easy, moderate pace that stays particularly constant. The piece begins with a shiver-inducing intro segment played by the piano and double bass. This flows into the A section, where the main melody is introduced -- first with eight bars of just the piano, bass, and drums, then another eight with the full sextet. A mode change takes the tune into a slightly different key for eight bars, then returns to the original mode for another eight bars. Trumpet, tenor sax, and alto sax solos follow with a walking bass line augmenting the piano and drums in the background. Following this is a subdued, slightly shorter solo for the piano section, supported by the wind instruments interjecting softly in a manner reminiscent of the main melody. Finally, the bass is allowed a short, 15 second bit of improvisation before the return to the main melody and the end of the piece.
