Scott Bradlee is Harry Houdini

All stage performances are magic shows, whether they are done by magicians or musicians.  It was the same about two months back when I went to the Royal Oak theater: a flamboyant MC, a tap dancer, people standing on pianos, sultry singers in sexy dresses, “play that song” requests like you see at a dueling piano bar, the audience roaring for an encore.  It was a great jazz concert. 

Yes, jazz.  What?  You were expecting smug sweater vests and expensive cocktails?  An old crooner tickling the ivories?  Hip people gently tapping their foot?  All the ingredients were there on the stage in front of me though: a woodwind player and a trombone player laying down accompanimental hits behind the singers, a bass player keeping time, a swift drummer on the set, a piano player interjecting block chords in all the empty spaces.  But, it was all set to the tune of Radiohead, Taylor Swift, and Nickelback. 

Yes, pop.  What?  This is Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox, a loose collective of young jazz musicians from New York that explores the intersection (and value) of modern pop music done in traditional (often jazz) styles.  To put it simply, that concert was fun.  Just plain fun.  I had an absolute blast.  Isn’t it great when we get to say that? 

But as I was walking out of the concert hall, I realized that for all the glitz and glamour they pulled off on stage, they pulled off the greatest magic trick of all.  It would be like watching Harry Houdini escape from hand cuffs in an alligator infested water tank, only to realize he somehow put a coin in every audience member’s pocket on the way out.  Scott Bradlee and the rest of the PMJ crew tricked everyone in the audience into liking jazz music.  And more importantly, he tricked people into paying money for it.

I don’t need to launch into statistics of record sales to prove that jazz isn’t popular.  But what is really striking is that even members of the jazz world lack the faith that their music can be popular.  Take this horrendous advertisement for the Detroit Jazz Festival that aired a few years back:  a baby with headphones blaring jazz music starts crying.  The voice over: “Not everyone is a jazz fan.”  I wish I could still find the clip.  Yes, they really did equate listening to jazz music to a crying baby.  It’s almost like they are taunting the general public.  Here, I dare you to listen to this unlistenable music.

(Image above: a close representation of “jazz face”)

Have you ever been to a real jazz concert?  It is far from unlistenable.  It is infectious.  My wife always makes fun of me for making a “jazz face” when I am at jazz concerts.  It is this weird communal norm that happens when a player on stage nails a sick combination of notes.  Players on stage will turn to each other and make the “jazz face”, a sour, puckered look that denotes, “Man, did you just hear that?!”  Audience members will often follow suit.  This is communication.  This is the recognition that everyone is hearing this spontaneous music, in this moment, in this room.  It is a feeling of togetherness.  It is a celebration of the vitality of life within the music.  And it is infectious.  Go to a good jazz concert and you will hear audience members hooting and hollering, egging the performers on.  The players in the Post Modern Jukebox desperately want to deliver this experience to anyone who wants to experience it. 

Jazz fans should be thrilled about this, right?  This is where the rub comes in.  Without even looking around the corners of the internet, I can most certainly guess there are jazz fans out there who have already decreed Post Modern Jukebox as “not jazz”.  Even if you wanted to make that argument (and that would be a long one…too long to post here), what does it matter?  If one person walks out of that concert going, “So under the Wikipedia page for ‘jazz’ it mentions this ‘Charlie Parker’ guy…”, isn’t that all we could ask for?  I became a fanatic of Tuvan throat singing after I heard it on a Frank Zappa album.  You can bet that Zappa probably bastardized the entire art and tradition of Tuvan throat singing, but you can also bet I wouldn’t have heard it otherwise. 

Sometime I think the jazz world is comfortable with itself.  Essentially, jazz aficionados have staked themselves out in a club house just as ridiculous as the “He-Man Womun Haters Club” in The Little Rascals.  Jazz can’t be “popular” because “popular” implies “un-intellectual”.  That’s fine if you want to keep the riff-raff out of your beloved music, but realize that puts you closer and closer to that shelf on the museum.  When I was at Michigan State University, there was a palpable tension amongst the jazz faculty and the rest of the College of Music.  They clearly did not feel at home in academia, and yet the young jazz players weren’t gigging out on the road anymore to get their start.  Jazz has been codified into the public education system, which is certainly different than the days of the musical wild west: jam sessions, cutting sessions, risqué clubs, etc.  Those saxophones are now being placed in the hands of young musicians by public school music teachers, not old wise jazz masters.  I have no qualms about the quality of jazz music being produced by the public education system, but I do worry that this singular future will replace the multitude of ways jazz can inhabit the world.  And it’s a future that might vanish for someone after 12^th grade.

Which brings Scott Bradlee and Postmodern Jukebox to their final magic trick.  They can get people to pay for jazz, which gives jazz musicians a new kind of future.

Pick a city.  Any major city.  Do you have your city in mind?  Now imagine the untold number of musicians out there who chose to dedicate their lives to music and are currently unemployed in that city.  Their future chances of finding a job are scant because their avenues to making money are extremely limited.  Do you want to spend your life in the background as a session musician?  Spend countless years auditioning for placement in a professional group?  Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox envisions another scenario:  Why not get all the unemployed musicians together to make some music?  This isn’t necessarily better or worse than the other scenarios listed above.  It is simply different, and most likely equally as hard to make viable.  But it does present an alternative that can utilize the immense (but untapped) talent in each major city across the country.  The results PMJ has gleaned from this music making model are tremendous.  Jazz musicians getting millions of hits on Youtube, going on a successful tour, and making money.  To think.

Of course I’m skipping a few steps here.  A lot of the members of the PMJ were already fairly well established in the music scene.  I don’t know how this would work with completely unknown musicians.  PMJ also has someone working for them with a keen understanding of the music business/advertising/social media world.  It’s not as simple as sticking a bunch of talented musicians in the room and hoping for “play it and they will come” to happen.  But here is the essential question: why aren’t more young musicians (or musicians still looking for work) utilizing the PMJ business model of music making?  Why aren’t all the musicians jumping together to form their own chamber groups?  Where are all the new music ensembles?  PMJ isn’t alone:  Snarky Puppy, Alarm Will Sound, yMusic Ensemble, Roomful of Teeth, Project Trio, etc.  They all make music that is creative, exciting, fresh, and, most importantly, relevant.  Why aren’t there more?  These groups get people to love classical and jazz.  Modern audiences want to engage with these groups.  Oh, and they might get the audience to pay.  At least a little.

This is all easy for me to say.  I do not live the life of a performing musician.  I do not worry about the immense stress that comes with auditions or getting that next gig.  I am a music teacher in the public schools.  While my job is absolute insanity (in a completely different way), it is steady.  I get a salary.  I get a set work schedule.  So I do not know what it is like to live that other life.  I do know the PMJ “chamber music” model works (to a degree) from personal experience, though.  I was a member of the Almost Unique Brass Quintet during my stay at Michigan State University.  Our Classical/Rock recitals were able to draw in larger crowds than most other brass quintet performances we did (I mean really…I’m not even sure if a brass quintet recital is how I would want to spend a Saturday night) and I’m happy to say our version of Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” reached a modest 10,000 views on Youtube.  More important than all of that, we made music that both we and our audience members found exciting. 

Fellow performing musicians, I have a stake in what you do.  My profession depends on the fact that you are around.  My students love listening to you and aspire to be like you someday.  You create the musical experiences that have an arresting hold on our lives.  And quite simply, you make some kickass music that I love listening to.  That version of “Creep” that the Postmodern Jukebox does still gives me the shivers.  That is a magic trick I will never understand, and that is why I paid to go see them 2 months ago.  So please, all performing musicians, go to the great magician Scott Bradlee and learn all of his tricks.  He seems a little more forthcoming than Penn and Teller might be.