Clueless Charles' Summertime folly
Louis BarfeMonday 23 August 2004
Jazz - Charles Hazlewood make a hash of the Proms
Jazz is just about the most misunderstood term in music. So misunderstood, in fact, that certain ill-informed journalists are able to describe Norah Jones and her Happy Shopper equivalent, Katie Melua, as "jazz" without being clapped in irons and pelted with rice pudding. Jazz at its most basic is all about risk-taking, unpredictability, improvisation and excitement - all qualities absent from either artist's work. It's not jazz, it's mipsy AOR for people who aren't quite depressed enough to listen to Dido.
You'll notice that I didn't mention Amy Winehouse or Jamie Cullum there. I'm divided on AW - I like the idea, but I think she sings like a Glaswegian tramp. Meanwhile, Cullum is a proper jazz musician but he's currently being hyped beyond belief (he is NOT the greatest jazz pianist in the world, as is suggested by his record company) and is still forced to chase the crossover dollar.
Come back to him in a few years when he's been dumped by Universal and done more gigs - then he might start producing something really worth hearing.
The purist in me hates the hype but it's just possible that it might break down the prejudices that say jazz is obscure and inaccessible, which would be a good thing. Just 50 years ago jazz, or rather swing, was the most popular of all popular music. Since then cluelessness about jazz has reigned, something that was underlined when I watched Wynton Marsalis and the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra at the Proms on BBC Four. The commentator, Charles Hazlewood, a cheerful populist from the classical end, was quite clearly flapping around like a becalmed flounder.
The music was "wild", which was a fair enough description, in places. He claimed that it was also "smoky", a convenient rentaquote standby when jazz is being discussed.
Ronnie Scott's can be smoky (and full of arseholes who talk through the music - but I digress). However, concert halls aren't and the Lincoln Center is the US equivalent of the Royal Festival Hall. He also managed to mis-name the drummer and announce in breathless tones that he was "right up there with Buddy Rich". Hmmmm. The great Buddy, the one jazz drummer whose name everyone knows, is up in heaven and Herlin Riley Jr has the small advantage of being down here.
Hazlewood also raved about the version of George and Ira Gershwin's Summertime that we had just heard. Unfortunately for him, the band didn't play Summertime.
Incidentally, I mentioned Dido earlier as the acme of miserable music. Can she keep making records about her awful life? Ideally, her next album should be a shouting, stomping, Motown soul spectacular called "Say it Loud, I'm Loaded, Popular and Very, Very Posh".
