Head to Head: Jazz

Hello Eagle Readers! My name is Jïke Spördan, I’m here to talk about why sliced-bread is the greatest thing since Jazz.

Haha! Did you see the funny joke that I made there? I bet you did, and you probably laughed. Well, get used to it, because we Jazzers are just naturally funny and fun people to be around.

Back to the subject at hand; when I’m not playing gigs with my cleverly-named ‘80s new-wave cover band, or enjoying the flawless moral superiority of Ayn Rand’s objectivist philosophy, I’m engaging in my one true passion: Jazz.

Be it vocal Jazz or instrumental Jazz, hard-bop or fusion; nothing screams, “I’m a fundamentally better person than you because I like Jazz, and I will not shut up about how great Jazz is until you are fully aware that I’m better than you,” quite like Jazz.

You might say: “Jïke, you seem like a pretty cool guy, seeing that you’re in a cleverly-named ‘80s new-wave cover band AND you believe in the philosophy of literary genius Ayn Rand; how could you be into something that is as demonstrably un-cool and yucky as *ugh* Jazz?”

But I’d say that you need to back up your pony there, my friend; we Jazzers are the only ones who are hip and cool enough to ride on the high-horse. Jazz just happens to be the best music in existence, way better than all that crummy pop garbage out there, and I’ll tell you why.

For one, you have to be really smart to understand Jazz. It’s just very deep music, and you just can’t expect some dumb casual pop music listener to understand all of the nuances in the melody shifts and  the strange meters Jazz songs are composed in. Most people just aren’t sophisticated enough to appreciate a 20-minute saxophone solo, followed by the five minutes of applause from a mostly white, yuppie audience. While the rest of the audience continues clapping, you’ll hardly be able to notice all that syncopation the rhythm section is plodding their way through. But what does that matter?

Besides, improvisational solos and audience applause are the only real reasons people want to listen to Jazz anyway, right? Who cares to listen and see if the rest of the theme contains anything interesting? Personally, there’s nothing more exciting than having an audience of hep-cats just gushing and snapping wildly at your ability to play a million notes really-really fast all over the place. That’s the mark of a true musician.

But what really makes it worth it for me is seeing all those blank faces from the non-Jazzers in the audience, especially when they’re watching me shred out something mindblowingly-complicated.

They’re all just so totally taken back by my performance that they’ve literally lost the ability to smile or move or do anything. I’d say that’s a pretty standard reaction from the non-Jazz public when they witness me Jazzing-off to an eargasm on stage. Nothing in this world is better than live Jazz.

But what makes me so sad and upset, is that most people aren’t willing to admit  Jazz is better than anything else that exists. They would rather just listen to something unimaginative or catchy or easy to understand. I just don’t get it. Why would you not want to listen to Jazz? I honestly think we need to make a law; it should be illegal not to listen to Jazz.

When other countries love Jazz more than the American public, you know that there’s gotta be something wrong with our kids these days. Maybe it’s all this technology and smartphones, or maybe it’s ‘90s nostalgia, or perhaps it’s Beck. Who knows?

But when there’s so much good Jazz out there, why would anyone want to listen to something else? I don’t get why people would pay money for something mind-numbingly stupid and popular like Katy Perry, Taylor Swift, or Kenny G? I mean, out of all of those “artists” I just listed, they are all so clearly 2/10, BECAUSE THEY’RE NOT JAZZ.

But I guess there’s just no hope that Americans will wise up and like Jazz. My only option now is to move to Indonesia where I can cry about how people don’t like Jazz and listen to my collection of Tower of Power CDs in peace. At least in Indonesia they will understand and appreciate my superior taste in music. In closing; Jazz.

I’ve said this numerous times to my friends who are music nerds, but I’m going to finally put it in print. There are two things I hate: Jazz… …and Jazz.

Okay, so that’s three things, but I digress.

I don’t discriminate when it comes to making friends, but most of them are music majors, (we’ll have to wait and see how many of those people remain friends once I’m finished with this article). I’ll preemptively encourage you to write a letter to the editor telling me why I’m wrong, but I need to get this off my brain.

Musicians tend to be cool, generous, and down-to-earth people, (the exception being anyone in a new-wave band). But heaven-forbid you catch a group of them in the midst of a Jazz circle-jerk. They sit around and bitch about the listening public’s lack of appreciation for their art, as if that makes any discernible difference concerning the quality of said art. Well, keep crying, nerds; your tears taste delicious.

I’ve noticed that when Jazz fans engage in those discussions, they quickly turn rabid. They become the listener’s equivalent to hardcore Ayn Rand readers. They selfishly preach about how objectively “good” Jazz is, especially when compared to the plebian fares the rest of us choose to sully our ears with.

However, like Rand’s philosophy, Jazz seems rooted in selfishness; the musician gets on stage to rub one out in front of the audience, expectant that we will all gleefully cheer them on as they diddle their way to a glowing climax. However, I believe that masturbation is something best done in private. When I have to sit through a Jazz gig, I avoid that oh-so-awkward eye-contact, check my phone, and maybe order another drink.

So why do I hate Jazz? In the words of the prolific recording engineer Steve Albini, “It’s very vain music.” I have to politely wait while everyone in the band takes their dumb little solo, and usually the musician will waste my time noodling around without actually “saying” anything. They aren’t performing music for my benefit; they’re playing for, (and *ahem* with), themselves. Again, Jazz is the musical equivalent to reading a chapter of Ayn Rand’s bloated prose (sans the rapey parts).

That said, I’m not a musician; I can barely read sheet music. I respect the amount of skill and dedication it takes to make music, but what I hate is the snobbery; the “everyone should like this thing I like,” attitude. Every time you try to belittle someone who doesn’t like Jazz, you sound like one of those tin-hat conspiracy theorists who derisively refer to the masses as “sheeple.” It comes off as dickish and just plain rude.

Of course, the arguments people will throw at me are similar to those leveled by the Randian cult; I’m just “not smart enough” to understand “how deep” and “incredibly technical and complex” Jazz is. But if those are the benchmarks for appreciation, I call bullshit.

The Marianas Trench is plenty “deep,” but the pressure at that depth will crush a human being. Calculus is “incredibly technical and complex,” but I’m not going to pay money to watch someone figure out the area of a curve. I’m confident that I’m “smart enough” to “get” Jazz, but I’ve got better shit to do than listen to a bunch of elitists jerk off their instruments. Jazz sucks, deal with it.

This is the part of the column where I roll back my cynicism and hop off my iconoclastic soap-box. There’s no reason to be ashamed for liking something; if you are super passionate and excited about your art, I’d be the worst kind of cynic to give you flack for that. But the problem is having a passion, and then whining about how disappointed you are when no one else shares your enthusiasm. I must have missed the memo saying everyone owes you that.

I went to a Black Flag show last summer, and  I would say about 30 people showed up, but I didn’t care who was and wasn’t there. I went there to see one of my favorite bands perform live. I don’t care if anyone else “appreciates” Black Flag; I do, and that’s what matters.

So what if Jazz is unpopular or underappreciated? As long as you love it and appreciate it, I don’t get why you feel this impulse to demand everyone hop on your literal bandwagon. Get over it, Jazz nerds.

Jazz is dead, long live Jazz.