The Pulse of Jazz

All apologies to Green Day, but my favorite protest song of the year is an instrumental one. It’s called “Jacobin Club.” It’s written by a dynamite young composer named Darcy James Argue and performed by his Secret Society big band (yes, they still have those) and it creeps along to one of the most ominous, rumbling grooves you’ll ever hear before building into something explosive—and sinister. Never mind that its title references a radical political sect torn from some of the bloodiest pages of 18th century French history; Argue’s music is so evocative that, while it’s playing, the Jacobins live on, and present-day political resonances are difficult to ignore. (And if that one’s too abstract, try another Argue number, “Habeas Corpus” — the political ramifications of which are hard to miss, though they’re spelled out in the liner notes just in case.)

Still think jazz is music for grandfathers and Woody Allen movies? Well, not to sound snooty, but at this point, I dare say you’re just not listening carefully enough. As creatively vibrant and restlessly forward-thinking as indie rock – and with every bit as much to say about love, culture, politics, and human dignity, the jazz scene as it stands in 2009 is a series of quiet revolutions. And they’re quiet only because too many listeners are unwilling to give the music a chance.

But if you think of jazz as boring, consider that the liveliest, most spirited and utterly joyful album I’ve encountered in the past twelve months is composed entirely of songs written several decades ago: Allen Toussaint’s dazzling recording The Bright Mississippi, a mostly instrumental tribute to the people and music of New Orleans, assembled from standards and spirituals. Toussaint, of course, is more renowned for his work in soul, funk, and smooth rock idioms, and he brings that touch to this new jazz collection; likewise, his musicians — studio hands who hang around with folks like Tom Waits and Robert Plant — bring to the table a love of jazz, but no particular reverence for it. The result? An album brimming with imagination, willing to push against the constraints of jazz even as it lives within its traditions. It’s sensual, spiritual, and utterly sublime.

It’s also a case in point: For every album that breaks ground by spitting in the eye of tradition — Kid A, for instance — there are so many other records that are equally great, and equally groundbreaking, precisely because they’re informed by tradition. The Argue album mentioned above, Infernal Machines, is a fine example. It’s a big band recording, all right, and yes, there are plenty of nods to folks like Duke Ellington, but there’s also a touch of Radiohead, more than a touch of post-rock (think of bands like Talk Talk or Sigur Ros), and the distinct influence of the same out-there composers who are frequently name-dropped by the likes of Sufjan Stevens. This is where tradition meets the cutting edge. This is jazz.

But if tradition is its foundation, its lifeblood is spontaneity; Jazz is an improvisational form, and its in-the-moment-ness can be volatile. In other words, it is open-ended and full of possibilities. Sometimes this means a conversation with the past. Such is the case with The Bad Plus, the hipster’s jazz trio of choice, who mix originals with renditions of songs by David Bowie, Nirvana, and the Bee Gees. Check new album For All I Care, with bona fide indie rock vocals by Wendy Lewis. Ynd sometimes it leads to the most wonderful kind of culture clash. Strut Records has been releasing some amazing music in their Inspiration, Information series, wherein two artists who have never met before hole up together and let the creative juices flow. The third volume, released in early 2009, joined Ethiopian jazz legend Mulatu Astatke with British psychedelic troupe The Heliocentrics, and the resulting album was a trippy little piece of music heaven.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t also mention the follow-up to that album, and the fourth album in Strut’s outstanding series; the recently-released collaboration between Afrobeat pioneer Tony Allen and the Finnish electo-provocateur Jimi Tenor mixes African music with acid jazz, soundtrack music, funk, reggae, and rock. There’s a rap about kinky sex on the dancefloor, a sing-along about British immigration policy (complete with bawdy metaphors!), a spoken word piece that starts with President Obama and ends up as a stirring moral treatise, and what may be the best-ever song based on a Richard Dawkins quote—and those are just the English-language tracks!

But does it count as jazz? Who cares? If it’s not jazz in form, it’s at least jazz in spirit: restless, of-the-moment, wonderfully weird and pregnant with possibility. Sounds good to me. I’ve heard people ask whether or not jazz is dead, and I can’t imagine a less reality-based line of questioning. The only question is why more listeners don’t include these albums among their shortlisted, best or most innovative recordings of the year. They’ll be among mine. And they’re just a few among many. This stuff is plenty alive, and it still kicks.

Related posts:

1. Top 11 Hip-Hop Releases of 2009
2. Revival or Renewal: The cultural influence of O Brother, Where Art Thou?

Tagged as: 2009 Year End

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