I am trying hard to make a positive statement about what we do rather relate negatively to what others are doing, but it is hard.
The current lack of venues, informed audience, and money has made the live performance of jazz music an extremely concentrated moment for musicians, tiny in proportion to the time spent in the classroom, practicing, rehearsing, and other preparations. This is problematic.
The preparatory acts are often isolating and introverted, whereas the performing act should be communal and outgoing. With the focus on individual artists' abilities and personality cults, it is difficult to comprehend what brought people to jazz in the first place.
I was lucky to bring this trio together through a regular engagement in a setting with an audience (bartender and clientele) genuinely appreciative of us, and we learned how good that felt. I believe that the music we play comes from that warmth and good feeling. I am not talking about pandering, but simply keeping eyes open and engaging with the room.
I hope that jazz can still make people feel the way it made me feel when I first started listening to it, but in order for it to remain a live art and not a collection of reissues, we need to seriously think about its role. It is my goal to bring live jazz into the everyday life of as many people as I can, not cut out a small audience of intellectuals. I want to reacquaint our generation with the tactile experience of three musicians with full, rich sounds playing as one, with the feel that once defined the music, and with melodies that the human voice can relate to.
Thank God for Monk and Coltrane, but the fact is that not all jazz belongs on stage at Carnegie Hall. It also belongs in our homes, in our bars, in our restaurants, and I hope to see you all soon in those places.