Being that I've been attending a lot of jam sessions lately, I thought I would give the younger players a crash course on how to make a good impression on your colleagues, as well as the audience.

Rule Number 1:
Don't play too long.  As Art Blakey said to me once (after I played 3 choruses on Stella instead of 2, which would have been proper), "Don't play too long, or people will be applauding 'cause you're through!"

Rule Number 2:
If you don't know the tune that is called, and you don't hear the changes--don't sit in, sit out.  

Rule Number 3:
Respect the style of the session.  If the cats are playing tunes & bebop, don't come in squeaking and squawking with your avant-garde, conceptual vibe, ending in the middle of the chorus because you don't know the form.   Don't go into a Jazz session and call "Funky Chicken."  Don't go into a blues session and call "Giant Steps."  Etc.

Rule Number 4:
Horn players--the rhythm section is not your personal Jamie Aebersold record.   Try out all your licks in retrograde inversion at home.  We're trying to make some music here.

Rule Number 5:
Buy something to drink.  Support the place that's hosting the session, especially if the only people in the audience are the musicians.  

Follow these simple guidelines, and your jam session experience will be greatly enhanced, guaranteed!  See you at the session.  Seven Steps to Heaven in 7, anyone?

Yes, I am now an iPod convert, after having trashed the iPod both verbally and in print for many years.

And now that I am a devotee, I have acquired a bit of knowledge as to the care and feeding of this inorganic pet.

Recent problem: The "hold" switch was not working. This is a drag because the device needs only a light touch to turn on, so if something touches it while it is stored it may turn on and deplete the battery.

Solution: Reset the iPod. (This will not erase any files or settings.) Do this by powering on the device with the hold switch off, then pressing "Menu" and the middle "select" button simultaneously until you see the Apple logo appear.

The Apple logo will appear as a gigantic luminous holographic haze, taking up most of your field of vision. . .

OOPS no that was a dream I had last night--

Correction, the Apple logo will appear on the screen of the device.

Your iPod is now reset. There is one more thing you need to do: when powering off the device, wait ten seconds before putting the hold switch on.

The hold switch should now work.

The testing device was an iPod 8GB Nano. The old square one, not the new one.

If resetting your device does not solve your problem, you may have to return it to Apple for repair. I understand the turnaround time is short. In the meantime I guess you'll have to amuse yourself by playing with ringtones.

Tra la la!

HOW TO MAKE YOUR OWN SAMPLERS ON YOUR COMPUTER

Getting tired of handing out free copies of your CDs that cost you $$$?  Why not make your own CD Samplers with your computer and printer, and give those out to clubs, radio announcers & journalists, instead of giving out your CDs with the expensive packaging.  If you have more than one CD out, this is also a good way to have tracks from all your albums on one spiffy-looking disc.

Materials needed:
    Computer with iTunes installed
    Printer
    Paper
    X-acto paper cutter (optional)
    disc labels & software (optional)

1.  In iTunes, import your CDs  (import as 320 KB mp3's for higher sound quality).  
2.  In List View, make a playlist with the songs you want to have on your sampler.   Title your playlist "Your Name Sampler."  Change the tune sequence around till it's the way you want it.  
3.  Assign album artwork to each song.  If iTunes does not add the artwork automatically, just drag a photo of your album cover into the artwork space in the "Now Playing" window, while the tune is playing.  If there is no CD cover, then put a photo of you or your band in that spot.  Have six different photos for maximum effect. You'll see why in a minute.
4.  Burn your CD
5.  While the playlist is showing in the iTunes window, go to File--Print.
6.  Select  "CD Jewel Case Insert." Select "White Mosaic" in the menu box.  This will give you a beautiful color cover with images of all your albums, or other photos.   The mosaic will be the front cover of your CD booklet, and the tune list will be the back. You can also select "Black & White Mosaic."  Print.
7.  Go to your text program, and write what you want for the inside of the booklet.  This is a good place for more details, such as info about the albums, personnel, contact info, etc.  
8.  Print out a test page of your text.  Check the page layout by placing it against the cover page and holding them both up to the light.  You will need to re-position the text in your text program so that it's inside the crop lines of the cover page.  Keep experimenting with placement till it's correct.
9.  Re-insert your cover page so that the text will print on the back of it.  Print.
10.  Crop the sheet according to the crop lines on the cover sheet.  An X-acto paper cutter is relatively inexpensive and works great for this.
11.  Fold the cropped sheet, and there you have the booklet for your sampler!  
12.  (Optional) Print out labels for your discs for the ultimate effect.  Memorex Expressit has nice labels with free software.  The full sheets have spaces for spine labels and return mail labels as well.  You could also just label the discs with your name & contact info on a small address label and stick that on the disc.

N.B.  1.  If you're using a MacBook, DO NOT put labels on discs before burning them.  MacBook don't like dat.
    2.  If you're using slim-line jewel boxes, trim spine labels so they fit.  
    3.  When burning, don't insert the blank disc until you get to the final "Burn" button.  Then it will ask you to insert a blank disc.  
    4.  If you're using plain old white paper for your cover, don't use a bold font on your text side.  It will show through on the other side and ruin the look of your cover.
    5.  If you really want to get fancy, buy a glossy paper (back side can be plain) that works with your printer.  Then the cover will look even nicer.  

Have fun! 

In yet another scam victimizing young musicians and composers, the TV show 90210 is trolling the talent pool for unsuspecting newbies in search of their big break.

A common scam these days is to hold a "contest" for the best theme song, the "prize" being the use of your song on the show.

Yes, you heard right. The winner of this contest gets to give away their song to the show in question, relinquishing the fees and royalties he/she is supposed to be paid.

While this particular "contest" asks for a cover version of their regular theme, many others want an original theme.

But who wouldn't want to give away their music to a major TV network (in this case, CBS) for the chance to be heard by millions? Isn't that worth a lot of money? Yeah, it is. THAT'S WHY YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO GET PAID FOR IT.

How about the actors on the show? Do they get paid, or are they so grateful to be on TV that they waive that little detail? Besides, don't they get free food on the set?

How about the camera people, wardrobe staff, makeup dept., catering team? I'm sure they are so thrilled to be involved with a major production that they donate their time. Besides, don't they get free food AND coffee on the set?

Please, young musicians and composers--join a union (AFM, AFTRA) and a performing rights organization (BMI, ASCAP, SESAC) and learn the business, because this is a business. Do not give away your services to those who can and do pay for them. You are entitled to be paid for your music and your performances--don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

There are also a number of trade organizations such as the Songwriters Guild of America (http://www.songwritersguild.com) who host events and whose members do get the types of gigs you would like to have someday. These people are a wealth of information and will be happy to share their knowledge with you.

PLease be advised that I will not approve friend requests from private profiles unless I know you already. So please, people, send me a message containing an essay about yourself and why you want to be my friend, if I can't view your profile.

I know I'm not worth stalking because my life is very boring. All I do is tai chi and play Jazz music. Occasionally I do some other vaguely interesting things, but not very often. Mostly it's buying cat food, doing laundry, researching 18th Century occult figures, translating the code of Hammurabi--you know, the usual.

Nevertheless, in this age of hyper-security, I find myself compelled to add a modicum of filtering to my otherwise fairly lax system.

For more information, please refer to my previous blog post "So, You Want To Be My MySpace Friend" below.

Good luck.

Did you know that many of the New York Jazz clubs lack decent dressing rooms for their artists? ("NO! I hear you gasp).

It’s true.

The venerable Village Vanguard, for instance, has no dressing room. The artists hang out in an old kitchen, seated on folding chairs (if you can find one) surrounded by decrepit stoves, sinks and countertops. I suppose it qualifies as a sort of "green room", although it is not private. Pretty much anyone can walk in there.

Sweet Rhythm has no room for the artists at all. Zilch, not even a kitchen. And unless you’re a Yoga teacher, heaven help you if you’ve got to change in that bathroom. Better you should sprint across the street to the Mexican place. If it’s not raining.

The dressing room at Dizzy’s Club is the size of a walk-in closet. But at least there is comfortable seating and a bathroom.

The Minton’s green room is an office. A very small office, with a whole lot of stuff in there. Be sure to hermetically seal your belongings before using it.

Birdland is okay if you don’t have to go from one end of the dressing room to the other-- to the bathroom, for instance. The room is shaped like a hallway, so if other band members are in there, traversing it is like navigating aisles in a movie theater. But a movie theater aisle is easier because you don’t have to leap over horn cases.

The Blue Note has real dressing rooms that are small, but private and clean. They don’t double as storage rooms. There is one for the bandleader, and another for the band. And at those prices, I would expect no less.


These are just a few clubs that come to mind.

(Is the Complaint Dept. open yet? I’ve been on ’hold’ such a long time)PLEASE SUMMARIZE YOUR COMPLAINT IN 60 WORDS OR LESS

Not having a dressing room/green room is a drag because:

1. Must change and put on makeup in public bathroom (so much for that ’artist mystique’ you were trying to cultivate. . . now EVERYONE knows you use Mabelline Instant Age Rewind)

2. No place to sit down and look over music or warm up (hey, you knew about this gig 2 weeks ago!)

3. No place to be away from the public to chill out between sets (are you some kind of prima donna, or what)

4. Where are you supposed to count the money and pay the musicians after the job (just go in the bathroom to count the money, drug dealers don’t seem to have a problem with that so why should you)

THANK YOU, YOUR COMPLAINT WILL BE PROCESSED IN FOUR TO EIGHT WEEKS.

I like interacting with my fans and friends who come to the show, but I need a clean and quiet place to go for all of the above. I put out lots of energy when I play, and I can do a better job when I don’t have to spend more energy talking to people between sets. This is very draining. I prefer to save my energy for performing, and chat with folks AFTER the gig.

Let’s not forget that most of these clubs would have zero customers if not for the artists performing there. Few seem to realize this, least of whom the artists themselves.

Now that I think about it, if all clubs provided clean, private dressing rooms for their artists, the artists might start to think more of themselves, and get all uppity, and demand more money!

Oh. . . I get it now.

I'm in the middle of producing my first film.  It will be a demo DVD for the Assoc. Board of Royal Schools of Music Jazz Program. 

We needed some scenes of New York and the Jazz clubs, so the other night I drove a Jeep Grand Cherokee down Broadway while filmmaker John Halpern and his assistant Courtney were squeezed through the sunroof, each with a giant camera. 

It was a clear night so we got great footage of Times Square with all its lights, hype and glory.  I expected to get pulled over any minute--two professional video cameras sticking up through a sunroof in the middle of Broadway seemed rather subversive, if not downright illegal. 

Then more fun yesterday-- filming Roy Nathanson's band kids at the Institute for Collaborative Education, then running over to Birdland for a couple hours to shoot the intro scene on their stage! 

Gianni Valente, owner of Birdland, was the only one gracious enough to offer his club for the film.  As I told several club people, this is a demo product and there is no budget for location shooting. 

I was actually rather annoyed with certain club people--all the times that musicians come and sit in at their club for free, adding value to the club and making it an exciting place, but when it's time to give back, where are you?--not to mention the Jazz educators and students ALL OVER NORTH AMERICA who are going to see this film and say "let's go to that club that was in the film!"

So when I hear whining from club people, like "well I have to pay someone to be here while you're filming"--especially when we've both been on the scene in New York for a quarter century and I knew you before you even had a club, and now you don't even have the vision to see that you must reach the students so that the audience for Jazz music continues to grow AND your club can stay in business, and anyway you're at the club right now talking to me on the phone so why don't YOU be there while we're filming? but no, I guess you don't have that kind of vision, James.

So, because you dissed me like that, your club doesn't get an appearance in the film.   All the other clubs do.  But not yours.

I believe this is what's called "an executive decision."  You make one, I make one.  Checkmate.

Recently I was asked to curate a regular Jazz night at the Brooklyn Lyceum.  For the uninitiated, the word "curate," traditionally used to signify the person who selects the works for an art exhibition, is now being used in music circles.  Thus, the term "curator" is basically a fancy name for "the person who books the room."

 

The idea of curating a regular Jazz night is attractive, because one can book one's own bands and the bands of one's friends, and others that are deemed worthy.  One becomes a producer in a sense.  If one has such aspirations, that can make up for the myriad inconveniences involved in being the booking agent—like phone calls, scheduling, re-scheduling, and acting as go-between twixt the artist and the venue.  Having produced many of my own shows, and a few shows for others, I must confess that I consider myself ideally suited for the role.

 

I turned it down.  Here's why:

 

In my meeting with one of the directors, which took place at the Lyceum, just down the street from my Brooklyn studio, he explained the financial arrangement:  the house gets the first $5 of the ticket price, or 50% of the cover charge, whichever is greater.

 

Now, on the rare occasion when I work for "the door" (bringing in nearly 100% of the customers from my own personal mailing list and fan base) I get all the door money.  The venue keeps all the food and liquor money.  Is this not easy, and fair?  And remember, no one would be coming to the place if there weren't a band playing.

 

In the event that the venue does its own share of advertising (not the usual case, believe me) then any customers who attend as a result of this advertising would, in any case, be coming because of the act appearing there, not because of any intrinsic value in the venue itself. 

 

When I do accept a "door gig," the only one working for the door is me.  I do not ask my band members to work for the door.  As a bandleader, if need be, I take a loss.  You gotta pay the band.

 

(Reminiscing here about a funny story from Bill Crow's column in Allegro, the Local 802 newspaper.  Two men were overheard in conversation: "I owned a jazz club, but it closed.  You have to pay the musicians, you know."  "Yeah, that's what kills it.")

 

So the idea of the house taking half of the cover charge for itself simply rubs me the wrong way.  Clubs aren't doing this in Europe.  They aren't even doing it in California!  So how did New York become the Center for Unpaid Bands that club people seem to think it should be?

 

Musicians—if you must work for the door, get it all, for goodness sake.  You brought the audience there, it's your money.  "Lose" the gig if they won't agree.  But frankly, I feel the loss is theirs, not yours.  If you take a door gig for less than 100% of the door, you are losing.  Let the sub-standard bands do that if they want.  But if you respect yourself and the quality of your performance, then just say no to exploitative deals that do nothing for you but provide a space to play.

 

Don't listen to their stupid rationale, which goes something like this:  "Well, we're providing a space for you to play, with a PA system.  We can't afford to pay you, too."

 

You say: "Yes, you're also providing a refrigerator for all those sodas and beers you sell.  Do you get those free?  Did P.C. Richards donate the fridge and the coffeemaker?  Look, this is the cost of doing business!  If you can't afford to pay the acts (whom you're not paying anyway, the customers are paying them with the cover charge) then you can't afford to have a music club.  Capiche?"

 

Do what I do.  Find a small auditorium in a school or church, or other public space.  Find a private loft, art gallery, or dance space where you can put on your show.  Rent chairs if you have to, I've done it.  Produce the show yourself, or with a partner, or another band.  When you do a door gig at a club, you're pretty much producing it yourself anyway.

 

Let's show these rip-off clubs that we're too good to settle for what they're offering.  Let the crappy bands play there.  Eventually, some people will notice the difference.

Greetings, cyber angels & devils, and those who have not yet declared their position.  Please be advised that I will not automatically click "Approve" on your friend request.  Here's the deal:

If I know you and you are my friend or I otherwise admire you from afar, I will click "Approve" without necessarily visiting your page first.  Life is short.

If I don't know you, I will go to your page to see who you are.  After checking out your page, I will return to my Friend Requests and click "Deny" if any of the following conditions apply:

1.  I think your music sucks.

2. Your other "Friends" are all scantily clad women in various provocative poses.

3. You have too many "Friends".  I am not here to become a statistic on your behalf.

4. All your Top Friends are really famous people.  Because, dig it:  all my Top Friends are actually my friends, famous or not, and I like it that way.  By the way, if you find yourself getting edged off my Top Friends list, don't be sad, it's just that My Space is becoming so popular that every time one of my dear friends adds me, then one of my other, more recent, friends may have to share the space for awhile.

5. You have one of those secret profiles that only a Friend can view.  Classic Catch 22:  I can only view your profile if you're my Friend, but you can't be my Friend unless I view your profile.

6. I can't get your music to play.  I will give you a few chances, though.  But it may take awhile.

7.  I just feel like it.

8.  You are dead (in which case I somehow feel that My Space will not be your preferred mode of communication) or else masquerading as a famous dead person, in which case I don't know who YOU are, and in any case, even if the person you are "representing" is one of my heroes, he/she has obviously not been complicit in the Friending process, and therefore it's a moot point, isn't it?

Well if you still want to be the "Friend" of such an obviously arrogant, conceited, elitist bitch, try me!

Once upon a time, there was a staple of the musician's financial diet, known as the "New Year's Gig."  In days of yore, New Year's Eve could be counted upon to supply players with not just one gig that would pay January's rent, but also a bunch of others that one could dole out to one's friends, Santa Claus-like, in grand style.

Of course, the days when New Year's (for short) paid a month's rent were over long before I arrived in New York toting my sax case, but I've heard tell.

In my day, NYE (for shorter) usually paid around double what a regular club date would pay.  (A club date, for the uninitiated, means a private party, like a wedding, bar mitzvah or dinner dance.  In Boston, they are known as "GB gigs"--for "general business."  On the West Coast, they are known as "casuals.") 

The last hurrah of the traditional NYE was Y2K.

Are you still with me?

I'm referring to the New Year's Eve of the year 1999 going into 2000.  Remember how lots of people said that the computers were going to revolt because their programming didn't go up to 2000?  Remember all the dire predictions that were made about the inevitable failure of anything operated by a computer? 

Y2K, lest we forget, was the catalyst for lots of city dwellers to chuck it all and move to remote areas of the country, sometimes to underground structures that would supposedly withstand not only the perils of Y2K, but also any nuclear events, foreign occupations, or global warming catastrophes that may come about.  This is not a joke, it really happened. 

I may be starting an underground tai chi dojo slash jazz club in Montana, by the way, if anyone's interested.  (Jon Tester--if you're reading this, I just want you to know that you will get in free.)

But back to NYE of Y2K.  I, personally, was a little trepidatious about putting my car in a parking garage that night, in case it became trapped inside and I couldn't get home.  Ever try getting a cab on New Year's Eve in New York City?  But as it turned out, the Fear Alert churned out by www.nyc.gov-- aided and abetted by Channels 2, 4, 11, NY1, WINS et al-- served to curtail traffic to such a degree that I GOT A FREE PARKING SPACE RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE NATIONAL ARTS CLUB BY GRAMERCY PARK, where I was playing.

The gig paid in the four figures.  Low four figures, but still.   It was fun, it was a Jazz gig.  Then, after the gig: no traffic, no problems.  And we all woke up on the day after Y2K, and absolutely nothing happened. 

But something did happen.  The computers went ka-flooey, and DELETED ALMOST ALL THE FUTURE NEW YEAR'S GIGS, from the year 2000 on. 

And that's why, boys and girls, there are no more New Year's gigs. 

Oh sure, there's the occasional exclusive private shindig, or E flat hit in the Village.  But I'm talking NEW YEAR'S EVE HERE!  What happened to the days when I led a big band at Tavern on the Green, and made up funny patter on the mic, like "It's two minutes to midnight.  Don't worry folks, this watch was calibrated by NASA!" 

Well, maybe you had to be there.  And I was.