"The Jazz"

There comes a time in every young persons life, I think, in which they contemplate the relationship between work and play. I've always been someone who believed in the positive energy of play above and beyond the satisfaction of hard work. As I get older however, I'm slowly starting to refine the differences.

I just turned 19 years of age. I live (aside from room mates) mostly on my own. I choose things. I make things, and create. Music allows me to produce raw emotion, moulding these beliefs into tunes and chord shapes. The question I have begun asking myself is this: "Am I working or playing?"

When I sit down to play my acoustic guitar, I stare intensely into the body of an Indonesian made Yamaha. Glowing fire-like in the warm dimness I feel free to explore the fear and excitement of my infinite potential. I am God. I am connected to Him. I strike the slowly rusted strings. It's dirty, it's mine... And it's REAL. Work or play?

On another day however I find myself standing as a terrified child standing behind the snare drum I play with Triumph Street. I am enslaved by the monotonous drudgery surrounding the tidiness of half a beat. For twenty minutes all ten of us strain mind and body in extreme concentration. Alas, that one moment in time resolves. We are as one. It's hard work, but each and every one of us knows when the games finally come around there will be no work left to do. We march onto the battlefield and simply play our hearts out.

The defining moment for me was sitting patiently in a small soundproof chamber obediently practicing various aspects of Jazz drum set. My hands were trying to wrap some polyrhythm down deep in my muscle and never forget. My mind was attentive, yet slowly drifting. The purpose of that particular exercise eluded me, but I continued on as minutes pass to hours. I think to myself, "maybe I'm not that into this kind of musical situation."

"Jazz" is however an extremely beautiful music, undefined really by any understanding of the men and women who play it. We know it swings, and we know there are elements of improvisation. I am always watching others in the hallways talk about what "The Jazz" is to them and I've come to realize (I think) what the heck they are talking about. They can't be talking about the set picture perfect reference of Jazz. I think these musicians are talking about what they love about the music they play. "Jazz is a slowly smoked cigarette and a drummer who puts four on the floor!", "Jazz is a shout chorus of trumpets!", "Jazz is what you feel when you put on a Miles Davis album!".

It suddenly occurred to me that I had been in the wrong place all along. All any musician wants to do is find their "Jazz", and I knew for certain mine was a wet field full of men in skirts. That feeling that separates when we are working and when we are playing as musicians. You work hard to hone your skills in an attempt to create something beautiful in a performance or on a recording. That makes sense to me. "You do the work" as my private instructor Blaine would say, "you receive the benefits".

From now on when I sit down to write or practice a rudimental exercise for Pipe Band I know that I am putting in the work that needs to be done in order to create something great down the road. Sometimes it makes me feel impatient, but when I remember what my short time in music school has taught me, I know there is some equivalency down the line. Some time to play my heart out. There will always be time for that, you've just got to figure out what plays most to you. I would take the epic clamor of a badass 6/8 march with pipes and drums any day over the sounds of some quiet artsy form of percussion. I could listen forever to the sounds of Jeff Mangum's lyrical and melodic ideas. I couldn't bare to hear over an hour or two modal trumpet solo. Music is very personal, and it took this year for me to figure out just how personal it is. I just have to keep seeking out my own "Jazz".

Just keep in mind that you cannot find "The Jazz".

"The Jazz", however, will always find you.

-Chris