Aaron Novik’s Frowny Frown (with totally unexpected personalized bonus!)

A while back I started a mini-tradition in response to the ubiquitous year-end top ten list–since my own annual most listened-to albums were rarely new releases (and in some cases were super-old!) I chose to focus on records that were New to Me. So here are 10(ish) albums that got me excited in the past year. Some of them actually came out in the past year! But most didn't. (Note: asterisked albums include friends of mine.)

John Hollenbeck Ensemble: All Can Work (2018) I am late to the party on Hollenbeck's bands, but this really hit the spot for me this year. (Also spent time with quite a few of the Claudia Quintet's many great albums.)

Contemporary Composers Series: William O. Smith (1958) Known in the jazz world as Bill Smith, clarinetist and composer of "Concerto for Clarinet & Combo," one of my all-time favorite jazz compositions; I tracked down this long out-of-print LP of some of his early chamber works, and it did not disappoint. Find it if you can! (Hit me up if you can't!)

Marty Ehrlich's Dark Woods Ensemble: Emergency Peace(1991) Loved everything about this album. 

Muhal Richard Abrams: One Line, Two Views (1995) Yet another extremely heavy musician who I unfortunately waited until after his passing to really check out seriously. But better late than never. His combination of dense and heady writing with folkloric freedom was just what I needed at the time. 

Duo Oktava: Pilgrimage (2007) The whole record is great, but I especially dug deep on Walter Piston's absolutely phenomenal Duo for Violin and Cello. 

Bristle: Future(S) Now(S) (2014); Bullet Proof * (2011) Joy and humor and virtuosity. 'Nuff said. 

Anna Webber's Simple Trio: Binary (2016) I forget who suggested I check out multi-reedist Webber's kaleidoscopic music, but thank you, whoever you are! 

Kamikaze Ground Crew: The Scenic Route (1990); Postcards from the Highwire (2007); Madam Marie's Temple of Knowledge (1993) This horn-heavy medium-large band was active while I was in NYC but I somehow never learned about them until this year. Which is too bad, because they're great. Dense compositions (by Gina Leishman, Doug Wieselman, and others), interesting instrumentation/orchestration, great improvisers.

Aaron Novik: Frowny Frown* (2018) Clarinetist, comic artist, and cracking composer Aaron Novik left the Bay for NYC a year or so ago (before I had the chance to play with him much, dammit!). I really love this record/comic set (and not just because he sent me the above sticker with it).

James Newton Ensemble: Suite for Frida Kahlo (1994) I have Ethan Iverson's in-depth profile to thank for introducing me to Newton's phenomenal writing, which ranges from freeish straightahead to full-on chamber. (This, as my friend Lorin Benedict would say, is my shit!) This album, chock full of interesting and woody textures, was my favorite of the many of his I checked out this year. 

Michael Coleman & Ben Goldberg: Practitioner* (2018) If you know anything about me at all, you know I normally hate "[blank] Plays the Music of [Famous Dead Guy]" albums. But: Coleman! Goldberg! Steve Lacy! Original art baseball cards! And super-imaginative interpretations of extremely rarely played tunes. 

Adam O'Farrill's Stranger Days: El Maquech. (2018) O'Farrill is from another planet where the musical gravity is much heavier, so when he arrived here he was immediately imbued with superpowers. We're lucky to have him. 

Sanity-saving Honorable Mention to Walter the dog and James Drummaboy Harris. (2018)

In Need of a Deeper Dive

These are records that came across my radar but that I haven't yet had the time to give the attention they deserve. First look at Top Ten 2019?

Steuart Liebig: Pomegranate (2001) Chock full of amazingly dense and interesting writing in mini-concerto format for a variety of interesting soloists–randomly found this last week and can't wait to dig in. 

Sam Rivers Trio Live (1973) Rivers is a fascinating improviser and I especially want to spend more time with this period of his playing.

Holus Bolus: Pine Barren This 2011 album from composer and reedist Josh Sinton grabbed me on first listen. I'll be back for more.

Ethan Iverson: Live at Smalls (with Bill McHenry, Reid Anderson, & Jeff Williams) (2000) Kasey Knudsen, one of my favorite improvisers (who kindly consents to playing my music regularly) recently mentioned this one to me–I somehow missed it the first time around, but will be rectifying that pronto. 

John Lewis Presents Jazz Abstractions (1960) Especially Jim Hall's Piece for Guitar and Strings!

Rediscoveries

These are albums which I had heard in the past but jumped out at me with a fresh appeal this year. Always be ready to be floored anew by something you thought you knew!

Wayne Shorter: Night Dreamer (1964) (b/w Booker Little & Friend) (1961) I own a 1994 Toyota Corolla (gifted by my wife's parents) which we affectionately call "the Other Car" or "Ol' Bess." In place of the usual satellite radio and Bluetooth, it includes a state-of-the-art cassette deck, which inspired me to dig into my garage and grab a bunch of tapes which I dubbed from CDs and LPs in college–this one actually still worked, so I've just left it in on infinite auto-reverse for the past few months. Night Dreamer wasn't one of the Wayne albums I'd spent the most time with (mostly due to Lee Morgan, who you may remember I controversially don't usually love as much as most of my fellow trumpet players do). But man, does it sound great now–the tunes, the solos, the roiling rhythm section of Elvin, McCoy, Reggie Workman, just one of the finest examples of this music ever. (I listened to it with Mark Levine as we took Ol' Bess to an A's game last summer and he said, "how'd you know to bring my favorite album?") The Booker Little one is of course also a favorite. There's also something great with cassettes about having to just listen to the album in order (unless you want to deal with the dreaded << or >> buttons and risk getting the tape wound into the player), rather than jumping around impatiently and skipping the ballads as we've all gotten used to being able to do.

Directions in Music: Live at Massey Hall (2002) After Roy Hargrove's untimely passing I was digging around for some recordings where he really dug into some modern/modal stuff (in addition to all the great standards, blues, etc. that were his regular jam session fare across the world) and someone posted this album, which I'd previously sort of dismissed as an all-star tribute album. But man, does Roy sound great on this, fierce and inventive and lyrical.

Nicholas Payton Trio: #BAM Live at Bohemian Caverns (2013) I listened to this a fair amount when it first came out, but I noticed this year that just checking out a track or two before practicing or playing would immediately fire up some "good musical decisions" machine deep inside me that I'd forgotten was there. Payton has said "Live at the Plugged Nickel" is his favorite Miles, and this record captures some of that same fearless and funky energy.  He plays some ripping piano solos on this, too!

Hello folks! I wanted to invite you to a very special performance coming up--it's the East Bay premiere of my brand new composition Fire In My Head (the Anxiety Suite) for my Quintet+1 (with Kasey Knudsen, alto saxophone; Sheldon Brown, bass clarinet; Adam Shulman, piano; Fred Randolph, bass; Jon Arkin, drums, and myself on trumpet) at The Back Room in Berkeley.

Some back story: a few years ago I wrote a suite for my Quintet+1 called Interview Music, which was purposefully not about anything. I wanted to let the music stand on its own, and while I don't regret that decision, in retrospect 2016 was a not a good year to be "above the fray," artistically speaking.

So when I was very fortunate to receive a grant (from Chamber Music America's New Jazz Works program) to compose a new major work for my band, I decided to write about something I've been struggling with on a personal level for ages, and that pretty much everyone I know has been dealing with on an hourly basis since, oh, late 2016: anxiety.

Fire In My Head is my five-part, 55-minute attempt to translate that emotional cyclone into music. The movements (Signs & Symptoms, This Is Fine, Thought Spirals, Internal Exile, and Resistance) range from straightahead jazz to chamber music to free improvisation, and represent some of the densest yet most personal composition I've ever done. But one thing I discovered in the process is that, just as my wife pointed out to me that "even your happy songs have an undercurrent of anxiety," even my intentionally anxious material can't seem to help but to also reflect hope and a desire to create beauty and connection.

So please join me and my bandmates (who have been working their butts off on this challenging material) Sunday, December 9 at 5pm for our East Bay premiere at The Back Room in Berkeley!

The Ian Carey Quintet+1: Fire In My Head (The Anxiety Suite)—East Bay Premiere
Sunday, December 9, 5pm-7pm
The Back Room, 1984 Bonita Ave, Berkeley
Tickets ($15 advance, $18 door)

Hello folks! The day that I've been waiting for, obsessing over, and in a state of near-panic about for the past several years is almost here—I'm talking, of course, about the midterm elections Tuesday. (Vote!) But I've also been doing pretty much those same things in anticipation of the world premiere this Sunday evening of my new piece Fire In My Head (the Anxiety Suite) at SFJAZZ's Joe Henderson Lab (joined by my longtime partners in crime Kasey Knudsen on alto saxophone, Sheldon Brown on bass clarinet, Jon Arkin on drums, Fred Randolph on bass, and Adam Shulman on piano).

Some back story: a few years ago I wrote a suite for my Quintet+1 called Interview Music, which was purposefully not about anything. I wanted to let the music stand on its own, and while I don't regret that decision, in retrospect 2016 was a not a good year to be "above the fray," artistically speaking.

So when I was very fortunate to receive a grant (from Chamber Music America's New Jazz Works program) to compose a new major work for my band, I decided to write about something I've been struggling with on a personal level for ages, and that pretty much everyone I know has been dealing with on an hourly basis since, oh, late 2016: anxiety.

Fire In My Head is my five-part, 50-minute attempt to translate that emotional cyclone into music. But one thing I discovered in the process is that, just as my wife pointed out to me that "even your happy songs have an undercurrent of anxiety," even my intentionally anxious material can't seem to help but to also reflect hope and a desire to create beauty and connection.

So please join me and my bandmates (who have been working their butts off on this challenging material—see a sneak peek below) Sunday at 6pm or 7:30pm for this opportunity to hear original music by local musicians at the beautiful SFJAZZ Center! Buy tickets here.

ALSO: I'll be talking about the show (and giving away some tickets!) with Alisa Clancy this Thursday morning at 9am on KCSM Jazz 91. Tune in or listen online.

Hello folks! I am very excited to announce the premiere next month of my new suite Fire in My Head, which was commissioned by Chamber Music America's New Jazz Works program.

The piece, which ranges from straightahead jazz to chamber music and beyond, is a 50-minute, 5-movement exploration of the topic of anxiety, which is something I've dealt with personally for a long time and that many of us have recently been forced to deal with on a community level. I wrote the piece for my long-time musical partners the Ian Carey Quintet+1 ("a highly skilled band of improvisers" –Down Beat), featuring Adam Shulman, piano; Kasey Knudsen, alto saxophone; Sheldon Brown, bass clarinet; Fred Randolph, bass; Jon Arkin, drums; and me on trumpet. (You can get a taste of the piece in the video below.)

I'm especially excited to be premiering this work at SFJAZZ's Joe Henderson Lab. Tickets are now available for both shows (6pm and 7:30pm). Please don't miss this rare chance to hear original music played by great local musicians in this beautiful space!

ALSO: I will be on our local treasure KCSM Jazz91 talking about the show with Alisa Clancy on Thursday 11/1 at 9am. Tune in or listen online here!

Hello listeners! I just wanted to tell you about some exciting shows coming up. Things in the world are awful and difficult and sometimes it feels like our little artistic endeavors don't amount to a hill of beans, but sometimes music does bring us together (and it can be a way of working through these crazy emotions—see Fire In My Head below), so I'll keep making it and hopefully you'll keep listening to it. I hope to see you at one or all of these shows!

Circus Bella presents "Ring Out Loud!"

Shows Through June & JulyCircus Bella presents its 10th Anniversary Circus in the Parks season (dedicated to the memory of our longtime friend and bandmate Ralph Carney), with shows throughout June and July at locations all across the Bay Area! With live original music from Rob Reich and the Circus Bella All-Star Band (including me)!View the schedule here.

Nathan Clevenger Group (Pocket Edition)

Saturday 6/16, 8p, Jupiter, BerkeleyNathan Clevenger is one of my favorite local composers and bandleaders, and it's always a (really freaking challenging) treat to play with his group. With me on trumpet, plus Cory Wright, woodwinds, Lisa Mezzacappa, bass, and Jon Arkin, drums.

Jazz Inside Out with Jim Nadel & Friends

Friday 6/22, 8p, Campbell Recital Hall, Stanford UniversityIf you’re new to jazz and wonder how the musicians all play together without any sheet music, this special Festival kickoff concert is for you. Even if you’re a longtime jazz fan but still aren’t clear on when jazz musicians are improvising and when they’re not, SJW Founder and Artistic Director Jim Nadel will demonstrate with his horn and his band of top-notch players.

Fred Randolph Quintet

Sunday 7/15, 4:30p, Bird & Beckett, SFBassist and composer Fred Randolph brings his quintet to the great SF jazz & culture hub Bird & Beckett in Glen Park. With Sheldon Brown, saxophones, Ian Carey, trumpet, Dan Zemelman, piano, and Greg Wyser-Pratt, drums.

Class: Modern Jazz Improvisation

6 Weeks Starting Tues. 7/10, The Jazzschool at CJC, BerkeleyReady to take your improvisational toolkit beyond bebop licks, modes, and blues scales and into the sonic worlds opened up by artists like McCoy Tyner, John Coltrane, and Woody Shaw? This course will look into three different approaches for developing melodically compelling ideas for use in a wide variety of harmonic situations. (Basic knowledge of jazz harmony required.)Register here.

Save the Date! The Ian Carey Quintet+1: Fire In My Head: The Anxiety Suite (World Premiere)

November 4,  Joe Henderson Lab, SFJAZZ CenterThis November, I'm thrilled to bring my Quintet+1 to the SFJAZZ Center for the first time. We'll be premiering my new piece Fire In My Head (The Anxiety Suite), which was commissioned by Chamber Music America and deals with themes of anxiety (both personal and on a community-wide basis). With Sheldon Brown, woodwinds, Ian Carey, trumpet, Kasey Knudsen, alto saxophone, Adam Shulman, piano, Fred Randolph, bass, and Jon Arkin, drums.More info & tickets here.

UPDATE, 2019: I originally wrote the piece below in 2011, in response to the flare-up which followed Nicholas Payton's public rejection of the word "jazz," but the fact that it's still the most visited page on this site by a long shot, even eight years later, tells me these questions are still being thought about, which is good to know (whether you agree with me or not). 

By now you're aware that there was another jazz blogo-Twitter-Facebook-sphere conflagration this week (they seem to crop up every few months or so like drug-resistant bacteria)–this one in response to a post by accomplished trumpeter and opinionator Nicholas Payton (who is always a good read, whether you agree with him or not).

The post that set it off, "Why Jazz Isn't Cool Anymore," is a collection of thoughts covering Payton's problems with "jazz" as a word and marketing concept and its place in the history of racism in the music, plus a varety of other stuff including silence and whether it's romantic to be poor (his take: no). It's all interesting and debatable, but that's not what prompted me to write today–my issue is the kinds of reactions these sorts of discussions tend to bring up from some white musicians and fans. (There's that voice in my head telling me to close the laptop and walk away. No? Shit, here we go.)

On the list of topics most white jazz musicians would rather not be talking about, I think issues of race in jazz fall right behind their parents' sex lives or when the biopsy results are due back. It's uncomfortable for all sorts of reasons, which is why most of us choose to avoid getting into it if at all possible. It tends to explode the happy illusion that the jazz scene is a harmonious colorblind family where musical achievement is the only metric that matters. If it is discussed, it's usually among friends in a non-public setting where good faith can be assumed and people can accept some basic facts as givens:

• that jazz is a music that came out of the African-American community and is a deep part of that culture's historical identity;

• that great respect is due to the black masters who shaped it;

• that those masters were on the receiving end of vicious racial animosity for much of the music's history;

• that white musicians unfairly profited from discrimination against black musicians by audiences and the music industry;* but

• that white musicians also played a role in the development of the music; and

• that America isn't yet over these wounds, and people, especially musicians, ignore this to their own detriment.

[*To be clear, this usually wasn't the musician's fault! By all accounts Paul Whiteman was actually a pretty decent guy who cared about his musicians, and Chet Baker openly acknowledged that winning a trumpet poll while Clifford Brown was still alive was ridiculous (and I love Chet, but c'mon). But the fact that nobody calls Paul Whiteman the "King of Jazz" anymore, or thinks the ODJB was actually "original" is a good sign that history is a better judge than short-term marketing hype.]

But on the internet, in public, things are very different. Anybody with a Twitter or Facebook account can instantly jump into the fray with thoughts ranging from well-thought-out arguments to idiotic name-calling–so after a brief honeymoon (ten minutes? 15?) of respectful disagreement with Payton, sure enough, out of the woodwork came (mostly white) people calling him a racist, accusing him of calling them thieves, etc. This is par for the course in American discourse (see here) but disappointing, since I like to think jazz musicians are a little more attuned to how loaded these issues can be.

But as I said in one Facebook thread which I couldn't stop myself from getting sucked into (after it followed the standard devolution from reasoned debate to incoherent jazz Fight Club), it's unfortunately easy for white jazz players to fall into the trap of walking around in a haze of proactive defensiveness, ready to drop Bill Evans on anyone who brings up racism in the music's past or present.

But to those white players who feel themselves veering toward that defensiveness, I would say the following:

• The fact is, you are occasionally going to run into people who think you probably shouldn't be playing this music, or think white people are generally bad for jazz. Some of them may be your friends. Some of them may be your heroes. Some of them may be German tourists who think jazz can only be played in sunglasses. Some of them may know much less about the music than you do. This is just a fact of life and a natural result of the history covered above.

• This is indeed a drag. Trust me, I get it. It's a drag to spend your life (and yes, it takes a lifetime) learning to play a form of music you love, only to discover there are people who think you'll never be authentic because of who your parents are. But:

• Compared to what the black architects of this music went through over the first century of its existence, this is a pretty minor price to pay. No one is throwing you in jail. No one is making you walk in the back door or use a separate water fountain. There is no vast population of white jazz musicians being deprived of work by inferior black jazz musicians. Being called a thief is a hell of a lot nicer than some of the names I'm sure those pioneers heard on a regular basis.

• In case you've forgotten, being white is an advantage in just about every other area of your life, short of the cost of sunscreen. (In case you need a refresher: see here.)

• This doesn't mean you should never respond to a dumb argument or defend yourself, just try to have some perspective and be grateful that you live in a relatively peaceful country and can study music and (God forbid!) occasionally get paid to play it.

But if it still bothers you and you really want to change peoples' minds, take a cue from that Bill Evans guy you're always mentioning and win them over by being a respectful person and playing your ass off.

... WHILE YOU'RE HERE, some other posts to check out:

• The new album: Fire in My Head: The Anxiety Suite

• Jazz Philanthropy & The Gig

• Technique in Jazz: One Guy's Take

• Jazz According to G

• Or you can check out my music here.