September 30, 2005
re-interest
Why did I start down this musicians path? Who knows, perhaps I thought of grandiose things, of fame and fortune, of amazing technical prowess and soulful melodies that made the girls cry. Maybe it was for less grandiose reasons, maybe I thought I'd get the hot girl and end up driving a vette with Charlie Parker blaring, or a cd of my own making.
People used to ask me this at least once a month or more when I was young, "Why do you do this? You won't make any money, it isn't even popular music you're playing, what is this Jazz shit anyways?". Being the rebellious and often obstinate post-teen that I was I made it my purpose to do it for the music, for the music, man, it's because it makes me feel. It made me different is more like it, something other than the average guy in a suit and tie, working an average job and (in my mind anyways) hating every minute of it. This was primarily because of course I hated every job I had, they weren't musical and therefore I was in constant post-teen torture. The angst of the musician.
I became so caught up in being a musician I could barely carry on a conversation with non-musicians. I didn't know small talk (other than about music), I didn't give a shit about sports or whatever tv show that was on at the time. Somehow that changed. When that point was, I don't exactly know. Maybe it was when we bought our house, moved out of downtown (where the action is) and my world started revolving more around keeping the house by working at jobs and making money. The man snuck into my life and forced me to bow to his will, I could no longer "stick it" to him.
At least 8 years have gone by since I became thoroughly enslaved to the wage. Stuff has happened, we got married, lost a child, had a child, and another is on the way, and now I think to myself "Wait! What the hell happened here?". Somehow I jumped from 28 to 36, I still look like I'm 26 at the oldest, and dress like I'm 21 but my jazz career has all but disappeared, I'm no longer avidly practicing 2 hrs a day, I'm no longer transcribing solos, and writing music and obsessing over new cds. Sure I play in bar bands here and there, and that's fun a good portion of the time, but what the hell.
Re-interest is the name of this post because in the past month there's been just that, every night I don't even think about playing games on my computer in my free time, or watching tv. Instead I've been pulling out the old trumpet solo books from greats like Woody Shaw to go over and hack cack splat my way through re-learning them. It's kind of exciting though, because even though my jazz chops fell by the wayside my trumpet chops have excelled. All that latin music high note playing must be good for something after all. I've also pulled out old Jamey Aebersold playalong cds to work on my licks, going back to the start, almost relearning what I once knew.
I remember talking in a previous post about this being my mid-life crisis, maybe it is or maybe it isn't. Maybe I've been given a gift of youthful appearance so that these past 9 or 10 years of strain and stress won't keep me from doing what I want to do? I don't know, maybe it's the 12:30 am talking. Speaking of that, I have to work tomorrow and I gig tomorrow night so.. yeah. This post (such as it is) ends here.
Posted by Oorgo at September 30, 2005 02:38 AM Permalink - Category: Ponderings | TrackBackI started playing the trumpet when I was in third grade. I played it all the way up to the time I was about seventeen or so. For about three years there, between 7th and 9th grade, I took lessons from an older fella who used to be in a Jazz band. It was one of those three or four peice joints with a drummer, a brass man, somebody on a reed and maybe a xylophone here and there. At any rate, the lessons were absolutely amazing. The old geezer would flip some latin beat on the drum machine, and then he'd hope on the drum set or maybe grab a trombone, and we'd play 'The Girl from Ipanema' for like twenty minutes. We'd take turnswith rhythym and solo, he taught me all the great stuff about jazz like playing in between the sheet music and building your own little few bars. I was young enough that the creativity of it all really appealed to me, but not old enough to see how awesome it was. I guess I haven't touched the damn thing in easily five years, haven't played seriously in maybe 8. Sometimes I'm honestly this damn close to driving down to the store, picking up a $400 Bach or something in silver (always wanted a silver one, never had one), you know, the kind with the shorter stems on the valves so you can play faster; and just re-teaching myself the whole thing. I mean, when I was a kid I learned without braces. Then I had braces for like a year and a half, then I had them taken off. I figure if I can play jazz through all that shit, I can re-learn it.
The End
Posted by: shank at September 30, 2005 08:06 AMI've carted my trumpet with me through every move over the last hundred years (well, it feels like it sometimes). I just sent it up north for my nephew to play - he's just started band, and is sharing the school trumpet. Even my old beat up beast is better than sharing. I haven't played it in years, so at least someone will benefit.
Posted by: Squiddy at October 2, 2005 06:51 PM|
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