Friday, September 17, 2010


Originally written for my music theory blog at Indaba Music (

Hello my fellow music travelers. I wanted to take the opportunity afforded to me to draw attention to a topic which often goes too unnoticed when younger or new musicians are trying to navigate their way through the musical jungle. While the following post is my opinion (and, beyond that, my personal philosophy), I firmly believe the message is sound. We live in a modern world. All the music you could ever hope to listen to is available at the click of a few buttons. While I'll leave the implications this has on the wider world of the music business to the executives, I believe it has clear implications for the burgeoning composer.

Billy Pilgrim

For those of you who haven't read Kurt Vonnegut's seminal novel Slaughterhouse-5, I'll attempt to briefly summarize. Billy Pilgrim is the hero, who travels (or seems to travel) elastically through time. At one point, he finds himself as an attraction in an extra-terrestrial zoo, where the ET's explain that time has no meaning for them in the human sense, that they simply exist at all points in time simultaneously. In this sense, we exist in a musical atmosphere where all music past and present can be considered equal. At no other time but the modern age have you been able to listen to a Lil' Wayne album and a Gregorian Chant album in succession so easily, literally at the click of a button. Undoubtedly, this has had a profound affect on how I treat my listening sessions, bouncing around from genre to genre.

Try to live, sonically, at all points of time simultaneously. Try to put aside your preconceived notions of Bach, or even Pérotin, being dated and listen to them as if they were created last year. Likewise, don't shy away from Arcade Fire and Rick Ross because they don't meet a western ideal of high art. I urge you, when approaching composition, to treat the sun of your influences equally as if they were all just created, as if time and music history doesn't exist. Treating music as if it exists outside of a timeline will open up your ears and will guide your pen.

Nico Muhly

Composers, historically, have always bridged the gap between high art and the vernacular. In today's world, the gap between high art and the vernacular is narrowing constantly.

Take modern composer Nico Muhly. Nico is a graduate of Colombia and Julliard, worked with Philip Glass, and has been commissioned by the Metropolitan Opera and the Royal Opera in London to write a new operatic work. He has several well regarded pieces to his name and has all the credentials to step upward in the traditional world of high art.

And yet, Nico is a child of the modern musical climate. He is plugged into the modern, vernacular world. Foul mouthed, a constant Twitterer, he spills his opinions about everything from Justin Bieber to M.I.A. to xylophone patterns. He has created gorgeous string arrangements for Grizzly Bear, and most recently, has created amazingly majestic arrangements for Jónsi's (of Sigur Rós fame) newest album Go, with whom he toured playing keyboards and glockenspiel. He relishes the complicated music of the modern classical world, but doesn't assume a Pierre Boulez additude, as he constantly touts the simple sonic eloquence of bands like Loney, Dear and isn't above orchestrating Beyonce's "Crazy in Love".

Check out Nico's piece "Mothertongue"; in a word, eclectic. Nico would be the first to say that he is the sum of his experiences.

To Sum It Up

You are a sum. Everyone is born more or less carte blanche. Everything you listen to (or at least, everything that you listen to that affects you) has the potential to bubble up and appear in your writing. It's fun listening back to albums I haven't heard in years and realizing, "Oh! That's where I got that from!" It's always a lightbulb, a quick flash, and it allows me to reflect. This reflection helps me keep me grounded. It helps me harken back to my roots, back to music I listened to before my ears matured to the "next thing".

So, go forth, listen, and compose!

Friday, August 13, 2010

Some current inspiration

Due to the massive amount of music I tend to consume, I thought it would be advantageous for me to buy a subscription to a streaming service. This was a great idea. I've been searching around RDIO looking for music I've never checked out before and found a few gems.

First, one single that I've been listening to obsessively is Panda Bear's newest B-Side "Slow Motion". Now, I've never really been one for Animal Collective, but Panda Bear's solo stuff is amazing. There's so much subtlety in this song beneath the constant vocal harmony. It's easy to dismiss the piece as an overly repetitive composition, but when you get below the surface of the tune, you start to hear all of the little efforts in the track that keep it a cut above:

Second, I've been listening to a bunch of new gospel lately too. Isreal Houghton's band is one of the best in the business, and everything they play feels amazing. "Saved By Grace" is from his Grammy winning album. While it's not necessarily the best song on the album, there's one spot that's just awe inspiring. Listen to the whole thing, but especially the hits that they play around 2:54.

Thought these two songs are almost polar opposites, I guess the connecting tissue between these two songs are the blankets of harmony, groove, and the layers in the arrangement. Call me old fashioned, but I'm a sucker for a great arrangement.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010


So, this past weekend I set out to record some music I had written with lyrics in instrumental form. So, after writing some charts, my roomate Danny and I setup the basement studio to get some recording going. Recently, a bass player who I hadn't played with since high school moved into our quaint neighborhood of Bushwick, Brooklyn, so I asked him to sit in. It's always interesting playing with people you haven't played with for years, the learning curve is a bit less steep, but it's still difficult to find that level ground. It took a some time for everyone to adjust to the situation and find the time, but eventually we all settled and were ready to make some music. Here's a rough mix of one tune (pump the volume a nudge):

Later that same night, inspiration hit. I had this vamp stuck in my head. So, I took my mic upstairs to my piano and recorded. After putting some effects on it in the box, I realized that the overtones created by the antique piano in conjunction with some creative delay and reverb formed a natural percussion groove. Then I added some subtle layers, a hook, and some verses. Also, a whistling passage that has some cool feedback delay on it. Soon I'll add some more aggressive drums. Check it out so far:

Friday, August 6, 2010

The State of Jazz

Originally written for and posted on Indaba here

For those of you who have read my posts before, you'll know that I am unapologetically a jazz musician. It's what I've played and studied since I was a youngling. Though lately, and I don't think I'm alone, defining exactly what "jazz" is has become difficult. Is it a style with rules, or is it a music in which "there are no wrong notes" (as the common standby goes)? Is it fair to call jazz "America's classical music", or is it more of a music born out of the African diaspora, as prominent jazz critics like Stanley Crouch like to tout? It's almost impossible for it to be both, though undoubtedly the African diaspora had a large role to play in American music coming into its own. Still, this has been something of a struggle lately as I gear up to put some music I've written onto tape, which is probably more inspired by bands like Blonde Redhead and modern gospel artists like J Moss than it is by the traditional music of Armstrong and Ellington. So, I'll try to parse some of my views on the state of modern jazz below:

I. Rebellion

Let's start with irony, ironically it's often a great place to start. In certain NYC jazz circles, the word "jazz" has a negative connotation. I've given it a bit of thought, and I think I've come up with a reason why (for me, at least) it would have one. Most of the younger musicians my age trying to break into the scene nowadays came up through the traditional channels. We studied our instruments with teachers, played in school and church, learned according to the rules we were given. In music school we were fed the generally accepted jazz curriculum where be-bop is king, and Miles and Coltrane are gods. This is where we were told, "this is jazz, this is what you're here to play". Surely, there were teachers who were much more enlightened than this, but as a general rule, the hard asses among them felt a personal obligation to force the idea that jazz was the holy grail of music into our souls and make us penitent musicians.

Then, school is out. And in descending upon the world, the classes of academia begin their identity crisis. Armed with the technical know-how born of hours of practice, new generations take the world by storm, even by flipping the bird at the purists and embracing the new and explosive. One only needs to listen to a Human Feel album to understand the points of rebellion, and how far outside the tradition new classes of musicians bring the music from the hallowed halls of academic life.

Still, jazz today begs the question "what is jazz?" Best I can surmise: jazz today is a double-edged sword: a rebellion against and an embrace of the lexicon.

II. Romantics

I like to equate the current trends in jazz with the Romantic movement in classical music in the 1800s. For, it was at this time that composers really started looking outside the confines of the church and previous incarnations of their genre. Also, the romantics (probably starting with Berlioz) began to spite the former "traditional" ways of treating harmony, and so, began to spread their harmonic and contrapuntal wings. So too do modern jazz musicians look outside of the holy legacy of Art Blakey and Miles Davis and seek to cut the "jazz" ties of the ii-V-I. Also, Romantic composers began to shed the stigma of the age or reason and began to explore more emotive expression. In modern jazz music, Balkan rhythms, hip-hop, and even indie rock have been increasingly showing their influence in an attempt to diversify the genre and find true expression through true influence.

There's the renewed need to emote. I think I would cite the Rosenwinkel album Heartcore as one of the premier examples of expressive modern jazz. From start to finish Rosenwinkel presents sprawling compositions and solos. The intricate interplay between him and Mark Tuner on Heartcore provide some of the most emotionally invigorating music you're bound to hear. The layers of textures are perfectly balanced, and create an incredibly affecting soundscape, especially on tunes like "Heartcore" and "All the Way to Rajasthan". Throughout, there exists live performances enhanced by the addition of overdubs and lush synths which add enormously to the vibe.

On the lighter side of things, pianist Robert Glasper's album Double Booked showcases A perfect dichotomy: Glasper's acoustic trio graces the front half of the album while the back-end of the album is his more hip-hop/gospel/electronic influenced "Experiment". The inspiration Glasper draws from hip-hop and gospel music is tremendous. His piano lines are saturated with church experience and decades of listening to music other than jazz. Glasper has the ability to translate that experience through the jazz idiom, and is effective in his pursuit.

We modern jazz musicians have, like our Romantic counterparts, looked to broaden the content of the music and reach past the party lines of drawn by the lexicon. For example, trumpet player Roy Hargrove worked closely within the Soulquarian collective while they were busy redefining the sound of R&B. The Benevento/Russo Duo has even assimilated the jam-band mentality into their music and has put an intellectual spin on it. The Bad Plus have even covered the 90s anthem "Smells Like Teen Spirit", putting their own energetic twist on the song. Perhaps most famously, world renowned pianist Brad Mehldau has been recording Radiohead tunes for ages, and professes to be inspired both by not only Radiohead but Brahms, Richard Wagner, and even folk legend Nick Drake. In fact, Mehldau has released two albums produced by rock super producer Jon Brion.

Through all these different genres and the search for true expression, we jazz musicians have been seeking release from the ii-V-I and the proper voice-leading rules drilled into our fingers from day one. However, like the romantics of old studied in the great European conservatories, we've studied how to run the changes of a standard. We've studied how do to it properly so that we don't have to if we don't want to, and that's an important distinction. Have the knowledge first, then put it on the top shelf of the bookcase and forget about it until you need to call upon it.

III. Reaction

By, let's say, 1993 the novelty of the computer had worn off. By then, most American homes had their own personal home computers, and the internet revolution was right around the corner. As the digital age came into its own so too did the world of modern jazz music. Synths had taken the world of jazz by storm, and every artist (except maybe Keith Jarrett who spent a large portion of the 80's playing solo concerts, performing with his standards trio, and recording classical music) had succumbed in some way to the glamor of the new. Even Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers band tried to incorporate electric piano to disastrous results (check out the album Child's Play if you dare). There were some glimmers of jazz from artists who had gone electric in the 80's, like Chick Corea's Akoustic Band, but even Chick strapped on his keytar and blazed through "Got A Match". Eventually, the novelty of the synth wore off, and that's when the jazz world's reaction kicked in.

The first to react to this movement were the so called "young lions". This group of musicians were members of an elite club whose ranks included musicians like Wynton Marsalis, Branford Marsalis, Jeff 'Tain' Watts, and Marcus Roberts. Armed with the weight of Stanley Crouch behind their movement, they were probably the first to look completely back to where Miles had left off in the 1960's. Though many in the jazz community love to hate Wynton (and also Stanley Crouch, but that's a whole other can of worms) due to his often controversial comments, I think his most successful projects were those within his "Standard Time" series of albums. It was his way of saying, "It's still hip to play standards, and moreover, we can do it in some different ways." Similarly, groups like Joshua Redman's landmark early 90's Quartet with Brian Blade, Christian McBride, and Brad Mehldau started playing standards in different time signatures; but unlike clumsy attempts to play in seven and five in the past, they made the time feel natural, internalized, and intentional. By the time Mehldau's Art of the Trio 4 appeared in 2000, with the trio's now famous rendition of "All the Things You Are", playing in seven had become firmly embedded in the lexicon.

IV. Revolution

As the jazz community forges into the future, there are several trends to observe. First, different influences are permeating the music from all angles. If I may speak frankly, splang-a-lang is a dying art. I love to swing with a really killing drummer as much as the next person, but as jazz moves forward splang-a-lang on the ride cymbal and 2+4 on the hi-hat become more and more irrelevant. Furthermore, labels in the 1960's and 70's tried to make jazz music commercially viable artificially; in today's jazz climate "commercial viability" has grown naturally. For example, pianist Aaron Parks, who some consider to be the next important link in the jazz piano chain, has absolutely no straight ahead swing in his last album Invisible Cinema, but looked toward the current Brooklyn rock scene for inspiration. Same with trumpeter Christian Scott. Unlike Wynton Marsalis, Scott, also a New Orleans native, doesn't avoid music with a backbeat, he embraces it and assimilates many styles into his original music. Vijay Iyer on his amazing album Historicity does an absolutely convincing cover of MIA's "Galang". Robert Glasper and Chris Dave have been busy this past year traveling around with R&B darlings Maxwell and Jill Scott.

To conclude, I think my friend Adam Schatz, the man behind Search and Restore Jazz, put it well when being interviewed about his "Undead Jazz Festival" on, saying, "we’d prefer to accept that jazz died, and now is back from the dead with a stronger drive than ever before." Though, I think if Louis Armstrong were to rise from the dead he would pitch a fit about the state of jazz. Miles and Coltrane would probably be cool with it.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Some current inspiration

Two musical things have been on my mind lately and I would like to share them with you:

Firstly, I'm definitely a David Lynch fan and have seen most of his films. Currently I'm working my way through Twin Peaks. However, it's the "silencio" scene from Muholland Drive, and specifically Rebekah del Rio's acapella version of "Llorando" that I've been dwelling on. I remember the first time I saw it was very affecting, especially when she falls out of either anguish or severe love. It is surely one of my favorite Lynch scenes to date:

Also, a few weeks ago, one of my friends who I'm in a composer's collective with showed me this Lennie Tristano improvisation/composition over the changes of the standard "All of Me" called "Line Up". I couldn't believe I hadn't come across this earlier in my life. Lennie plays some absolutely beautiful lines, and everything feels amazing. Check out the way he accents some of his phrasing- impeccable.

While these two pieces of music seemingly have none too much in common, the draw in these two pieces is the melody, since that's just about all there is. It's not just the notes either, it's the people behind the notes that make it what it is. Or maybe it is the notes. I guess it doesn't matter, it's sheer amazing-ness.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Dionysian, personified.

Last night I had a Brooklyn experience. Probably an experience you can only have in Brooklyn nowadays- the quintessential raging loft party. I went with one of my oldest friends who was working taking pictures of the event (which I'll hopefully put up if I can coerce her to send them to me) and invited me to tag along. This party got me thinking about the Dionysian in everyone and in myself. So, this post is about something I briefly linked to in a previous post, Rick-Hop (a name so poignantly bestowed upon me by my friends in Miami). I think it deserves some explanation:

So. By this time (well, maybe a bit earlier- around March) last year, I was fed up with Jazz. I had spent my life learning and implementing advanced harmonic concepts, sophisticated melodic phrasings, and "space" in my solos. Apparently, the prodigious use of space is supposed to make you sound mature.

At any rate, this bombardment of drivel from academia led me to start a project based in a completely different musical world than that of music school: Hip-Hop. I grew up with hip-hop. I listened to Jay-Z, Biggie, Redman-Method Man; all of the music coming out of the 90s scene. Moreover, I grew up breakdancing and listening to the sounds of Run DMC, A Tribe Called Quest, Afrika Bambata, and the Rocksteady Crew.

Thus, tentatively, I created my first "beat". I sang a hook on it, having to do with an inside joke about beautiful girls who my friends and I called "harans" (or "ha" for short), and showed it to my roomates. The response was one of considerable wonder, as I don't think they would have pegged me to make something like this, and of genuine amusement. To be honest, I was amused with myself. It would be more than fair to describe the response as positive. And so, I wrote another song having to do with another silly inside joke (and, as it were, actual event) called "Girls Night In", and brought one of my good friends then girlfriend to record a girl verse on it. Again, the response was of considerable enjoyment and amusement.

Gaining a bit of confidence, I set out to see how far I could take it. I set my sights on the current hip-hop climate, and let myself go completely. It felt great. I put onto tape those Dionysian desires that I think everyone has, yet few are brazen enough to relate to the larger population. It was fun and absolutely hilarious, and I got many of my amazingly musical friends to record raps, hooks, horn lines, and guitar parts.

Though the lyrics get silly, and certainly are in many ways myself and my friends "personified", I think we should all let ourselves and our inhibitions go every once in a while. See the results below:

Rick Hop's Profile Songs

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Writing, writing, writing

Recently I've thrown myself into a new project. Unlike a few previous projects, I'm trying to take myself seriously (I say with a straight face). Well, maybe that's not what I mean, but I mean to write music that truly means something to me. Music that I guess you would call "no apology" music. Music I'll be excited to get up on stage and share with an audience. Music with lyrics, even.

I love sitting at the piano and sussing out Ideas. I can sit for hours and play the same thing; change things, experiment, and dive into sonic realities until I find a piece I really like. Yet, when it comes to writing words to songs, I get sheepish when other people are home. And, living with 4 other people in a Bushwick apartment, you better believe everyone hears everything.

It's surely not that I'm afraid to sing in front of people, or for people (if you don't believe me please see Rick-Hop). I think it has to do more with the meaning of words. When you play music without words, as I have done for many years as a jazz musician, you learn to derive your own meaning from everything. When you add words into the mix, suddenly you add context to the equation. With context, unless you're writing completely abstractly, people can explicitly what you mean. I think I'd rather not have people listen to my thought process and would much rather present an end result. I guard my thought process closely, whether it's in improvisation or writing raps (again see with aforementioned Rick-Hop) and I'd rather not share.

The point of this is to say I like to write alone. I don't like the feeling of someone looking over my shoulder. Though that's not to say I don't like writing with people- only that I like writing my music, simply, by myself. Do you relate?

Though, to be fair, here's a snippet of a song I wrote with my friend Ryan. He wrote the lyrics and the verse music, I helped write the chorus melody and harmony.

He's singing the verse, playing guitar, and bass; I sing the chorus, play the farfisa, and drums (please don't' mind the drumming!)

Monday, July 26, 2010

Welcome Post and Some Solo Piano

I intend for this blog to host everything I wish to share with people. Below are the songs that are currently on my Indaba Music profile (the company at which I currently work and host my own theory blog), and a youtube video of me playing some piano. Basically, it's all the information I have on Myspace- I'm probably going to get rid of that thing. Blogs are at least %313 cooler.

Enjoy this stuff for now, I'll have some other stuff up later (this is a blog, of course). The Indaba tracks are solo piano tracks I recorded in a neighbor's studio on an awesome sounding piano (a 6 1/2 ft Mason Hamlin with Steinway hammers, a lush tone, and tremendously sensitive action) and then had mastered. Album (or more likely a solo piano EP) is probably forthcoming as soon as I can get around to packaging (or doing good nu-age D2C), licensing the rights to the standards, and essentially putting it together. They're largely improvised and often depart from the regular harmony. Also, I was in the process of diversifying the interplay between right and left (something I continue to do today) and I love some of the "stumbles" that occurred during the process. I recorded them completely alone acting as engineer for myself on a farm up the road, which was amazingly comfortable. Somehow, recording solo piano in a studio or in a hall doesn't seem natural. Recording in solitude also, I think, for the first time in my life, really brought out the ballad in me. I also didn't feel like I had to strive for perfection. It was more about vibing with the song and trying to make something happen internally rather than externally.

Check out a few of the tracks, let me know what you think:

Also, enjoy half of a piano solo and a drum solo over Solar: