CHAPTER 13

Jam Sessions

A jam session is a somewhat informal musical event where musicians go to get work experience, work on some material, and check out players on the scene. In the late 1930s, Henry Minton, the first black delegate to the American Federation of Musicians Local 802, and original owner of Minton’s Playhouse, started holding regular Monday-night sessions because that was the night most musicians were off. Union rules prohibited musicians from playing those sessions, but because of his union ties, they looked the other way. According to Ralph Ellison, Minton’s Playhouse provided “a retreat, a homogeneous community where a collectivity of common experience could find continuity and meaningful expression.” Minton hired Teddy Hill to put together a house band that included Thelonious Monk, Kenny Clarke, and Joe Guy. It attracted frequent guests like Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Christian. Minton’s played an important role in the evolution of swing to bebop by inspiring the next generation to come and jam with the likes of Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young, and Roy Eldridge. Miles Davis recalled his time hanging there:

On Monday nights at Minton’s, Bird and Dizzy would come in to jam, so you’d have a thousand [players] up there trying to get in so they could listen to and play with Bird and Dizzy. But most of the musicians in the know didn’t even think about playing when Bird and Dizzy came to jam. We would just sit out in the audience, to listen and learn.

Through the years, Minton’s became so popular the house band began to develop ways of weeding out less skilled musicians who wanted to sit in. Musicians had to audition before getting on the bandstand. They’d take them in the kitchen, make them play a few tunes to see if they could pass the muster. Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis is legendary for running jam (or cutting) sessions. His stage was where the wheat was separated from the chaff; if you couldn’t play or keep up, you’d be told to leave the stage. They had rules. No one cared if your feelings got hurt if you were not allowed to sit in or were kicked off the stage. Jam sessions have lost some appeal for both the musicians and the audience. I find myself in frequent conversations with musicians who share their frustration about the current jam session scene. There was a time when I looked forward to attending them. Certain venues, like St. Nick’s Pub or the Lenox Lounge (both no longer in existence), drew a cross section of musicians of all ages; you never knew who would show up to sit in. Roy Hargrove was great about supporting the scene. He was a frequent guest and passed on his knowledge to the younger set. His loss will be felt for a long time.

Aaron Diehl is adamant that musicians learn jam session rules:

Don’t play too long on solos! Maybe wait to the next tune if you play too long. [To the leaders] Think of a jam session as if you’re doing a set. Put a ballad in them, change the tempos. Horns, piano, bass, then drums is boring and why people don’t like to listen to jam sessions. It’s still for the listening public. The leader may sit at the bar instead of being a part of the session. Roy Hargrove used to conduct the jam sessions and was the ringleader and would teach tunes on the stand and run interference if someone played too long or wasn’t playing the changes. Roy tried to galvanize young musicians who played.

Although it’s rare that I focus on people’s dress at jam sessions, I must admit that I do make visual judgements. You may think that it’s unfair to be judged by your appearance, but that’s reality. If you want to be a professional, you should look like one. Below is a Facebook exchange regarding jam sessions’ dress taken from Monte Croft’s timeline that is revealing:

Monte Croft:Jazz is coming out of a student environment, today, and most of them feel it’s all about the music, and not at all about how we look, which is a sea change for jazz music. So many “older” cats have acquiesced to this aesthetic, that it’s just what’s happening today. This makes me “the rebel”—sweet, how that worked out. I just watched a live feed of a jam session, and they sound really good to be so young, but they look like they don’t give a damn. Jeans, sneakers, sweats, etc. Granted, it’s a jam session, but it’s such a major change from when we came up. The thought of going to a major NYC club to attend a session, hosted by an established older artist, in sweats and sneakers? They need to at least know that’s a relatively new phenomenon, and some of us are really not feeling that. We’re not accorded the respect that was given to our predecessors when they were our age, so younger folks would rather argue, or dismiss the notion of a dress code. There was a time when clubs would not let you in at all, in sweats, jeans, and sneakers. Everybody gets a vote, that’s my vote.

Commenter A: I have a question since I’m not from that time. And I’m asking this from a humble righteous place. I was raised Old School and still believe, when you perform, dress to impress . . . my question is about dressing up at jam sessions. The times have changed, and in society on average, [for] most business people, pastors, etc., “dress up” is a button down, some fly sneakers, and a blazer. Getting back to my question, do you feel it’s rude or disrespectful to the culture to not be decked out at a jam session?

Monte Croft: I look at it like this, our environment is what WE make it, be it our homes, our neighborhoods, our gathering places, etc. More specifically to your question, younger people seem to look at things in extremes. I might suggest being “presentable,” and your response might be “he wants to see us decked out,” when that is not necessarily true. I had a young guy go in on me because he said he didn’t want to wear suits, but he failed to realize I never suggested he wear suits. He saw my suits and made that assumption. I believe whenever you’re onstage, before the people, some thought should go into your visual presentation. If you look the same way in rehearsal as you do in a PUBLIC jam session, perhaps you might want to consider an adjustment. We all know times have changed—perhaps more than you even realize. Musicians used to dress up for flights and recording sessions; those days are gone, but check this out. I did a record date with Brian Blade last year, and he informed us that one day a photographer would be there. I’m usually totally casual in the studio, but when I got that information I decided for that day I would wear a jacket with my jeans, and a cap I thought was fly—still had on sneakers. Just that simple thought process lifted my look up—I didn’t think “oh, I have to wear a suit now.” I don’t live in a vacuum; I see the same things you see. I’m just trying to give the younger folks something to chew on. This thing is what WE make it. Your vote has the same weight as mine.

Commenter B: Hip-hop has a look, country has a look, rock and roll has a look—jazz is indecisive, or we want so badly to be down we adopt the hip-hop thing. I’m like, but what is the “jazz look” today?

Commenter C: It’s about holding the bandstand/stage as special and always having your stage persona. Stage wear can be written off on your taxes!! I have things that I wear on stage that I don’t wear every day or at jam sessions. They are supposed to be a spontaneous event. But I always try to look like an artist when I leave home. I’m old school in that way. Be it a scarf, a jacket, shoes, shirt, etc., we are special and should always present ourselves as such. “They see you before they hear you.” Not my words. Peace!! Onward and upward.

For years, saxophonist Mike Lee has been conducting jam sessions at various clubs. With this younger generation, he has watched them deteriorate. In a recent post from his online newsletter, he addressed his concerns:

Most jazz musicians have attended many jam sessions. Few of us have hosted a recurring jam session over a long time period. Here are some things I’d like you to consider:

Hosting is hard. There are many points of consideration when trying [to] run a jam session that might not ever cross the mind of the average session attendee. It is important to remain a good positive rapport with the musicians you hire for the house band, with the regular fans, with younger participating musicians, with established/known musicians who might stop through, and with the servers, bartenders, and owner of the venue. Each of these groups might have a different set of needs and agendas. I often joke that the trick is not to try to please everyone, but just to decide who you’re going to piss off tonight. The understanding of the chemistry and interdependence of each of these categories of people is what sets a good jam session apart from a great one.

I want you to succeed. I want you to have a great musical and social experience which rewards your love for the music and challenges you to increase your skills and understanding of the music. Try to understand if things don’t exactly as you hoped this week. There might be 600 other considerations I’m juggling at that moment.

I’m your host. Please say hello and goodbye. It’s courteous and helps me know if I’m on the right track providing a valuable event.

Competition has its place. Most of the greatest musicians had storied “battles” that helped create their legend. These battles often happened at jam sessions. If you feel “defeated” or “cut”—come back next week and reclaim your stake.

Buy something. The venue is providing the scene and the lights and electricity. They are counting on your business. An appetizer and a soda go well with a late night set.

It’s cool to let me know you’d like someday to play in the house band, but it often puts me in an awkward place. I have a fairly regular rotation of players I use and I have spent a lot of time and energy cultivating a nice network of professionals whom I can count on for many reasons. Throwing a new cat into the mix isn’t always as easy as it seems. It’s not that you’re not KILLING IT!, but it’s not as easy as it seems.

It’s cool to come and hang out and listen to all the players without sitting in. I feel so many people are so apprehensive about sitting in that they’d rather sit home than come participate as listeners. But you can gain a lot of information just observing.

Play short—it’s a winning formula. Play one less chorus than you think and people will love you.

Young cats—please forgive me when I forget your name or don’t recognize you. I meet 100 new people every week. And you grew a beard or lost 50 pounds. It can throw me off!1

NOTES

• Observe the rules.

• Don’t cop an attitude if you aren’t called to sit in.

• Get to know the leader.

• Develop a rapport with other musicians.

1 © 2019 by Mike Lee. Reprinted here with permission from saxophonist Mike Lee. Originally appeared in online newsletter: Mike Lee, “Secrets from a Jam Session Leader,” Mike Lee, April 22, 2019, https://mikeleejazz.com/2019/04/22/secrets-from-a-jam-session-leader/.