Jazz in the Age of Esotericism

As far as my musical upbringing, I became serious about music in the height of the conservative movement throughout America. During Ronald Reagan era of the 1980s, the country was 97% red, at least terms electoral support. The bleeding-heart liberal did not have a fighting chance. As a general rule, when liberals lose economic and government support, so do artists. We all remember when Republicans relentlessly went after the NEA for funding controversial art.

We were conditioned to stay in our places and not ruffle feathers. The safest place artistically was in the middle. Ignore that which falls on the fringes, and create things that everybody can enjoy. Or at least things that would not offend.

This goes against the basic tenet of esotericism, which celebrates that which is only understood or intended to be understood by a small number of people with special knowledge—whether it offends or not.

Fortunately for other like-minded musicians and me, using the internet to gather and share information became common practice. The internet is a breeding ground for esotericism. It is a tapestry of micro-universes that allows one to be as narrowly focused as their creative intuitions guide them, and they can still find an enthusiastic group of supporters. This is what's so amazing!

During the 80s and early 90s, I never could not have done what I do today. We may have torn down the Iron Curtain, but the conservative wall protecting the sacred values of azz during that period was rock steady and impenetrable. Two of the most influential and successful jazz players to come out of this era were Kenny G, with his 1982 release Kenny G and Wynton Marsalis with his 1983 release Think of One. Both saw unprecedented sales for their sub-genres of jazz. And to further emphasize Marsalis' conservative vision of music, he was equally skilled at playing classical music. Unlike G, Marsalis was often very vocal about music that did not fit his conservative vision. Much in the way that seasoned politicians running for office do. Musically speaking, G is the opposite of esotericism. In fact, he was extreme-exotericism. He music was all about accessibleness and being able to be understood right away. Hyper-placation was more his objective than challenging the listener. He didn't push them, he put them at ease. 

Today, it's a different story. We no longer have to smooth out the edges. We no longer have to sacrifice the purity of our vision in an attempt to reap more financial rewards. We no longer need to cater to the taste of the conservative radio stations of the world; the limited tastes A&R execs; and the booking agents who often try to convince you that you're not bookable unless you have all-star players in your group. Thank goodness for me. Otherwise, they'd tell me my only options would be to play the tenor and try to sound like Hank Mobley.

I see esotericism as a philosophy of hope, not an ideal only centered around exclusion and isolationism. Under the guise of esotericism, we no longer have to scrap ideas that cast a net with a limited circumference. And I'm not opposed to commercialism. I celebrate the idea of something appreciated by the masses. But it's hipper when commercial success is a consequence of a more sincere and earnest endeavour that just happened to get lucky.

There are undoubtedly artistic benefits to esotericism:

• Having limited scope helps create an identifiable sound.
• Less time is invested in wooing those who don't want to be wooed.
• You're most likely fulfilling the artistic needs of those often ignored.

When people say that I'm only appealing to a select group of geeks with highly specialized taste, my response: I sure hope so!