I've said before that I don't like jazz. Yet, I've posted some, and
that has led me to think about why I did. What about my previous jazz
posts made the cut?
I think it's the unabashed soulfulness that so much jazz lacks.
You'll
hear it in Keith Jarrett's moody concert-length improvs. You'll hear it
in Vince Guaraldi's sophisticated soundtracks for the Peanuts/Charlie
Brown television specials, as well as Guaraldi's music for Black Orpheus.
On
a technical level, it's the liberal use of the warmer, sweeter thirds (major and minor) and sixths (major and minor), both melodically and harmonically; the willingness to turn
dissonant seconds (major and minor) into ninths -- expansive, inviting, spiritual; the
intentionality that's missing from free jazz.
Jazz
has been called "African-American classical music" and, as in classical
music, the practitioners of jazz approach it with considerable rigor.
The end result is often more hackneyed than authentic, for all its
"correctness". When musicians choose their own path, the result is more
authentic by default. And that's a lesson every musician needs to learn.
Or, as Shakespeare put it in King Lear, "Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say."
I had read that Prince was a huge Joni Mitchell fan. In interviews, he mentioned Mitchell's The Hissing Of Summer Lawns, an entire album that sounds like its title; his favorite local record store reported that Mitchell's Hejira was among the last records he purchased, in support of Record Store Day.
So, it was no surprise to hear that he had covered Mitchell; the surprise came when my heart gave a horrible thump at those first unmoored chords, fluttering like birds until they landed on the tonic. What was this?
The arrangement settles in to old-school R and B, with some tantalizing hints of classic country, while Prince's vocal continues the high flying with a stunning falsetto. You've never heard Joni Mitchell like this.
Attitude problems notwithstanding, this is the most brilliant and innovative Joni Mitchell cover I've ever heard. Here's Prince with "A Case Of You".
If you're been following along, you know how I feel about this stuff -- jazz, I mean -- but here's what I notice about this cut:
Lesser musicians, particularly those influenced by jazz rather than those who labor exclusively in the vineyard of jazz, get so carried away with out-sized riffing that they turn a minor part of the song into its emotional peak. Somehow, they never give a thought to the lyrics or the message they're trying to put across; it's all about the riffing, which makes for a tedious, invariably lounge-y performance.
Not so Marian McPartland. She'll go outside on occasion, but she always knows where she's going, always knows how to get back, and always times her excursions to provide just the right embellishment to the lyrics. Yes, I said lyrics. This tune does come from the Great American Songbook, after all, so most of the audience will be singing along in their heads.
The other thing that stands out is McPartland's profound respect for the melody. If, as a musician, you think you can do better, why not play something else entirely?
