R.I.P. Ed Richards

So there is this older guy, who was around 70 years old, who was a great Jazz Pianist. I played with him once with Sonny (the Jazz Singer), and I was horrible. This was about two years ago and I still didn't really have any sort of grasp of Jazz at all. He was very patient, kind and encouraging though.

Last night we show up to our regular gig at the Inn at Morro Bay, with Ray Chang on trumpet and Mike Raynor on drums, and it just happens to be that friends and family of the late Ed Richards were holding their wake there.

We dedicated some songs to him, and played okay. We really butchered a couple of tunes though, badly. I have to practice more on the upright bass if I'm going to think I can pull it off at gigs, damn.

But it was a good night overall. There were some touching moments, we played Ed's favorite song and the everyone applauded standing up after that one. We had some nice musical moments (besides the beat getting turned around multiple times and serious faking our way through several chord changes....).

Busy week, off to the Drum Competition right now. Whew.

Public Perception

Grappolos was ridiculous last week. We played mostly latin jazz. The place was packed and everyone was dancing. The energy was incredible. But one thing kept bothering me.

I felt like I played mediocre at best, but the crowd response was there. I would pull out my 'bag of tricks' licks when I ran out of steam and people light up. Which didn't really mean anything to me. In fact, it almost reinforces my lack of faith in the general public.

For instance, when I feel I'm playing inspired and melodic, not relying on flashy tricks and bull#$%*, no one seems to notice. As soon as I play my fast stuff, people get into it.

What does that mean? I understand that the role of music in a club/bar is entertainment. I know that most people there are just there to have a good time, and the live music adds to their good time drinking vibe. I recognize that they're not there for us.

A look at popular music solidifies that train of thought. You can see that the types of music that continuously dominates the top of the charts is more or less background music. Something you can either dance to, bang your head to, or sing along. But not necessarily music to LISTEN to.

Fortunately, there's always a small handful of people in a large crowd who truly appreciate music and understand what's going on. Like a couple of people will come over to the band and say something to the effect of "You guys are smoking tonight, I really like your version of (jazz standard title)" and it makes it worth it. You know from their comments that they know this music, understand this music, and appreciate this music.

That always makes it worth it.

There's two kinds of people in this world....

I've been hearing that statement for years, and always talking about different issues. But the the only version of that statement that rings true with me is the following:

There's There's two kinds of people in this world; Rolling Stones people, and Beatles people.

I personally am a Beatles guy. Music is a drug for me, and the Beatles crafted emotionally richer music that tends to lift me up more than the Stones. I love the pop-melodies that float through every song, the rich production work, the crappy, yet rock solid drumming. And let's be honest. The Beatles were simply better songwriters. Don't get me wrong, I love the Stones too, but I believe that the Beatles are better.

For a long time I didn't quite grasp the full meaning of that statement. Now I get it. It doesn't necessarily mean that you like one band over the other. Many of my friends, for whom this statement rings true, don't listen to either band. It comes down to what you prefer; rock or melody.

Consider this: My good friend Bryce is a brilliant mathematician. He also listens to and plays nothing but punk rock. So he's not the guy I invite to my jazz gigs, but I go see him play whenever I can. All this makes him a Stones man, even though he doesn't listen to the Stones. He likes the rock more than the melody.

Another: My homey Crosby is another gifted man. He knows how to craft a beautiful melody. He didn't grow up on a diet of Beatles, but he would rather listen to a single voice with an acoustic guitar than a whole band rocking out. That makes him a Beatles man, even though he isn't intensely familiar with their catalog as most 'Beatles men' are.

See what I mean?

So what kind of person are you? I'd like to know.