Call-And-Response

I went to see some jazz last night at the Iridium. Trombonist, and brother of trumpeter Wynton Marsalis, Delfeayo Marsalis explored and celebrated Charlie Parker through a variety of musical perspectives. And as he did the Bird proud, I began to think as I always do, just how talented and spur-of-the-moment genius these jazz musicians truly are. This is not a new thought among jazz fans, but I continue to marvel at their maelstrom of melodic riffs; especially their mighty "call-and-response" patterns. Last night, there was anywhere from two to six musicians up on stage, all expressing themselves as a group, and then one by one, trying the music on, wearing it around, and showing it off. They all had a special relationship to time; using and manipulating it to fit the spirit of their music. They were "fitting" and "fixing" time, instead of time "fitting" and "fixing" them. I just love that, and I thought to myself, maybe I can be more "jazzy" in my everyday dealings. For me, it's long past waiting for something to happen - to begin. During this two year period of looking for a permanent job, of going here and there, I've been depending on how the "other side" will react to me, all these calls-and-no-responses have made me question myself. Instead of a long sustained resounding powerful note, I've become a willy-nilly combination of "passing" and "substitute chords." No, I say, no more. I am from here on in, an "altered chord," because I carry around with me my old self, as well as the bits and pieces garnered along this tough riff, I am changed, but I am still Clover. Like the jazz musicians I saw last night, I am tapping my own wherewithal to control time as I wish, with my own instrument that deliberately distorts the pitch and timbre of its time in the spotlight to fit its needs. Spontaneous, independent, and vital.

Ironically enough, the word "jazz" also means empty talk; a bi-polar word that conducts itself in all-or-nothing terms. There must be an etymological angel reigning overhead, for I am now super-hero keen to pick-up an empty-talker's talk and throw it out immediately, rather than dote on their promises of the world served on a platter. Instead, I am supporting my own solo improvisation that takes its cues from its own tempo, and deliberates what an opportune and suitable moment is, and when to take it to new gratifying heights of music-making.