| LANDLUBBER | MARCH, 1998 |
Al's talking about the way his music soars above ordinary emotional boundaries, of the music's immediacy, of those moments when, moved by the Holy Spirit, he's forced to ignore the structure of the song and just sing what he feels. For me, playing free music is not about love or happiness. It's about the unknown, and the fear of the unknown. Free music (also known as free improvisation, or free jazz) has none of the familiar sign-posts that make playing other kinds of music a comfort and a delight. There are no planned chord changes in free music, no agreed-upon motifs or rhythms. There's nothing but the present moment, a gaping hole waiting to be filled by improvisational genius or (more frequently) left gaping as one gropes in the darkness. When it works, when a group of committed, fearless musicians come together and create, free music can thrill like no other art form. Every note was created just for this audience, and no other audience will be able to experience it. (Since free music is so tied to the present moment, recordings of it never capture the feeling that "this may fall apart at any time.") When the musicians are truly attuned, every gesture they make, every note they play is picked up by the others, so that all can communicate without explicit signals. Each musician has total freedom, yet the ensemble creates a coherent sound. Sometimes, it sucks Or, maybe not. You get half a dozen musicans together, say "Play whatever you want," and what do you get? Boring noise. Some folks soloing, others trying to create a background. There's a guy in the corner who's being drowned out by the sax player. The sax player is trying to mimic the guitarist, who's concerned that he may be going out of tune. The keyboard player has run out of inspiration and is treading water with some generic jazz chords. A few of the players are trying to create an ensemble sound, but it's just not happening. There's freedom, all right, but it's a childish freedom rather than a childlike one. Try it at home Since great free music has been made by people at all levels of musical skill, you really should try it yourself. Get some friends together. Make sure you have instruments. Beer? Maybe. A tape recorder? For sure. When you're all ready, (and you've made it clear that this isn't meant to be some sort of blues jam) kick it. Troubleshooting It didn't work? Nobody's soul soared in ecstasy? No one cried out in existential horror? Don't worry, that's perfectly normal. If there's a secret to free music, it's trust. If you're going to be communicating musically in an intimate way, you have to be able to trust the other musicians. Trust that they'll follow your lead, or at least refuse gracefully. Trust that they'll be there to pick up the slack when your creativity seems to vanish. Yes, it's helpful if you're familiar with your instrument. Yes, it's helpful if you're familiar with all the genres you're trying to avoid. But if you're not familiar with the other musicians, it's not going to work. If you've got trust taken care of, then you should concentrate on listening. Listen to what the other people are doing. If your focus starts to move inward, if you start obsessing on your own playing, give yourself a slap on the wrist and move your focus outward again. Listen, listen, listen. So you're going to have to try this free music again. Call up the members of the "group," apologize that the first experiment failed, and explain that Mike says you all have to try it again. At some point, the Improv Fairy will appear sprinkle you all with Psychic Glitter, and suddenly it will all become clear. Of course! We just listen to each other while playing what we want, and everything comes together! We're geniuses! And we get to drink beer whilst creating our works of genius! What a life! You don't even have to thank me. I do this stuff out of the goodness of my heart. | |||||||
| --Mike B. | |||||||
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