CHAPTER 2

Learning One’s Craft

Musicians learn their craft in myriad ways. It can be from listening to records, by taking classes, studying with mentors, or working in varied musical situations. Kenny Washington advises,

It is important to tell musicians: Study the music, get a good teacher, listen to the musicians and players that came before you. Never let anyone tell you it’s old-fashioned. Don’t be afraid to copy any of the musicians. You must sound like others before you sound like yourself. In classical music, you have to go back; in jazz, the young people don’t know nearly as much as they should about this music, and it’s a disgrace. Learn standards; when the record company drops you, you’ll have to be a sideman.

Unfortunately, this lack of historical curiosity among young musicians is as alarming in 2019 as it was when the first edition of this book was written. In 2002, a young jazz musician, a tenor saxophonist, asked a veteran musician why he needed to learn standards, songs that have become the canon of jazz. The veteran musician told him that one day that attitude would get him in trouble. As it turned out, about a year later, the two worked together on a date with Eric Reed. I was in the greenroom when Eric was going over the set. One of the tunes that Eric wanted to play was “Polka Dots and Moonbeams.” The gentleman knew the song but only in one key, and it was not the key that Eric wanted to play. The young man took a few moments to practice the song, but on the stage, he struggled with it, and the others just played over him. Eric and I discussed his performance, and he replied, “I was shocked! How do you only know a song in one key? That’s like only being able to make love in one position. I was pissed off at how he messed up some other tunes on the gig—he couldn’t even hear what key we were in on some of the standards!” I asked Eric if he had known ahead of time of this musician’s lack of knowledge of standards. Eric said, “Well, I wasn’t too concerned because I had charts, but for cryin’ out loud . . .” To that point, Michael Wolff learned early on from Cannonball Adderley that he should “learn everything in all keys and to play all over the keyboard.” He “listened to the records and learned every tune.”

For many years, Bobby Sanabria has been teaching on the college level and is very critical of today’s students and their lack of curiosity about the music and the business. When he was coming of age, work was plentiful, especially in the Latin jazz scene. Now, not so much.

I tell young people, you want to be a musician? Do you know the commitment to learn your craft? To have as many opportunities available to you? In the old days there was so much work, you could be mediocre and get a gig, then you’d get better. You’d take private lessons to get better. Today you don’t have that anymore. For example, I tell the brass players if it was forty years ago you’d want to leave class early to do a salsa gig somewhere. . . . In the past students were working while in school and asked to leave early. They were all working. They weren’t making lots of money, but they were working. They’d learn the ins and outs in the business, maybe even work in brutal conditions. You have to learn as much of your craft and learn about being a professional in the business. Show up on time, dress properly, don’t ask dumb questions or ask stupid things (like I don’t have a tie, or a suit, do you have?). Don’t be arrogant! The world owes you nothing. Follow the leader. Do what the gig calls for. Actress Lauren Bacall learned that the world doesn’t owe you a damn thing. Can you play the heck out of your horn? Can you do the job and do it professionally? Do you know different styles of music? Can you play funk? Can you get into the band? Or do you say you don’t do this or that, like dance? Dance is part of the tradition! All funk, R&B . . . and do you know how to say the two most important words, “thank you”? Do you say, “I can’t do the job, but thank you for calling me . . .”? When they leave school, they have to know this. Luck plays a big role in the business. They have to be prepared for luck and have to deliver. They may not be doing their favorite kind of music, but if you get called for funk on the weekends, you better be able to throw down some funk.

FIND YOUR VOICE—DEVELOP YOUR OWN SOUND!

It is frustrating to hear terrific musicians whose sound I cannot identify. Think about this: can you hear the difference between Aretha Franklin and Beyoncé, Kem and Gregory Porter, John Coltrane and Stanley Turrentine and Miles Davis and Roy Hargrove? I venture to think that you might (though maybe not Roy Hargrove). Music schools are graduating more students at a faster rate than in years past. In this changing economy, competition for work is steep, and that is why it is in your best interest to learn your craft, develop your sound, and set yourself apart from your fellow musicians. I find it troubling that young musicians are starting to sound the same. Their musicianship is at a high level. Being “bland” works well in an ensemble setting and may be accepted as a leader. The problem is, the music is starting to sound the same.

If you are good at what you do, people will hear about you via word of mouth. In order to learn your craft, you must, of course, study, practice, and find places to work. Seek advice from those you respect. Watch what they do and glean the information that you need to advance your career. Natural ability alone is not enough for you to be a complete musician. One of the best methods to develop your voice is to start by copying musicians that you like, or want to sound like. Study their form, their licks, their phrasing. Take that information and incorporate your voice. Recently I read a short interview by Herbie Hancock where he cautioned musicians to not try to sound like him! There’s only one Herbie, one Chick Corea, etc. To quote a line in the Billie Holiday song “God Bless the Child,” “take what you need and leave the rest.”

When Allan Harris started out, he understood what he needed to do to learn his craft:

As I progressed in school, I went to jam sessions doing R&B and a few [jazz] standards. What helped me grow as an artist was jazz because of the melodies and you had to study your craft. . . . In jazz, because of the caliber of musicians I needed to play with and to accept me, I had to learn my craft, or I would not work with them. In other genres, the door was open. You had to have a certain look, some sort of gimmick, or fill the bill of what they were looking for that evening. In jazz it did not matter how; you had to learn your craft. You had to know the songs that were presented to you, and that was your calling card. I found that my participation was remunerated, not by the pay scale, but by growth. The more I learned the music, the more I grew as an individual.

Though he primarily considers himself to be a jazz musician, Jeff Clayton straddled genres. Because he knows so much music, he is comfortable in most settings.

I began in jazz music; it is the art of being a chameleon, it is so special, it prepares you to do any music. You steal solos, jazz, funk, or classical music; you just copy and mimic that. Then you understand the parameters of these styles, and good jazz musicians can copy. I started out on Concord Records as a jazz artist, then I did pop because someone asked me if I could, so I stole some solos, learned some songs of Stevie Wonder from his records until I knew how to play pop. When I did that, I changed the way I played in my mind and body and played pop. When I stopped playing pop, I turned on jazz and classical; they are closely related.

Both jazz and classical musicians tend to be highly trained, though there was a period where classical musicians looked down on jazz musicians because, as Bobby Sanabria stated, “Classical folks used to complain about jazz. They’d say, ‘[Musicians] they can’t read music, they can’t play the parts as written, jazz musicians’ technique sucks, they play out of tune, not on the beat, etc.’ I say they’re wrong, because jazz musicians can play everything. Most jazz musicians are classically trained, as are most Latin musicians.” In his nascent years, Eric Reed observed that the demands on a jazz musician can be at least as rigorous as those put upon a classical musician.

It was so bizarre, I’d be competing in jazz against classical [musicians]. There were music competitions; nobody was playing jazz, just me! I was the only one doing jazz. I was better than them; I played my music better than they played their music. I’d have my suit and tie, and I’d play with a lot of personality. Before people heard me play, they’d be intrigued by this thirteen- or fourteen-year-old kid who could articulate a point of view about music so eloquently. . . . Jazz and classical music are different types of music, but they both require a higher level of skill and discipline than most other types of music. Not to say that other music such as pop, R&B, doesn’t require talent. What it takes to play both jazz and classical as a pianist is advance knowledge of all elements of music, melody, rhythm, and harmony, whereas in popular music, that level of skill is not required. That’s why it’s popular music. In pop music, you don’t have to do a whole lot of things in order to appreciate it. It’s designed for a certain kind of stimulation, whether it’s emotional, mental, or mental de-stimulation. You don’t have to know how to play the Rach 3—Rachmaninoff’s Third Piano Concerto—to play pop music.

One cannot overestimate the importance of having or being a mentor. Eric Reed understands that.

I love teaching. I’m a player who teaches, not the reverse. There are students who get to college and don’t know the rudiments, and I’ll teach them. We are coming into a generation of young people who are further and further removed from the essential reference points that they need. I was lucky. I grew up in the last golden age of radio. Kids today just know one style of music, and if they get into jazz, by luck, they got it in high school or had a parent who was into jazz. We have more technically gifted players, but they lack arenas to gain life experience that will give them the street knowledge that you can get by playing with older cats who will talk to you when you do something wrong. The highest compliment in jazz is “[You] sound good.”

Be versatile! I remember the first time I went to hear Ron Carter’s Nonet and how surprised I was to see my friend the cellist Dorothy Lawson in the ensemble. Her classical training gave her the skills needed. She spent many years studying and understood the importance of surrounding herself with masters.

I spent a long time working with powerful people and being an apprentice and doing what they asked me to do or what they approved of. It never stopped me from feeling I had my own taste somewhere. The process for me to find my own voice was, for me, getting really secure and comfortable with the idea that I was going to say something without the approval of others and take the consequences.

CRAFT VERSUS ARTISTRY

Remember, there is a difference between learning your instrument and becoming a musician. Dorothy Lawson shares how she learned the distinction:

From André Navarra, the teacher I studied with in Vienna. One thing he said in class stuck with me. He was very methodical, and he had a careful routine that he wanted us to follow, and if he felt someone was slacking off or doing something in more free form, he would say (in French), “Oh, yes, you are the artist; I’m just the craftsperson.” In a way, it’s cynical. It is good to be reminded that doing something well is important, no matter how “artistic” you think you are.

NOTES

• Study, practice, study.

• Seek mentors.

• Be honest with yourself about your musicianship.

• Have a plan: short and long range.