Ambrose Akinmusire: An Emergence of Truth

Photo by Demandre Ward

Ambrose Akinmusire was born in 1982, a symbolic and transformational year in jazz.    Wynton Marsalis had just released his self-titled debut album on Columbia Records, while he was still a part of Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers.  This album would prove symbolic, as it represented what was to come; a desperately needed re-emergence and preponderance of acoustic and straight-ahead jazz.  This revitalization during the 1980s produced several pivotal artists who bridged the cultural gap, and served as the catalysts who incited the current generation of jazz musicians.  Now, almost exactly thirty years later, Oakland native Akinmusire is at the apex of a similar potential revival.

Winner of the 2007 Thelonious Monk International Jazz Trumpet Competition, Akinmusire has been on the jazz radar as a paramount player for a few years now.  Fast forward to the present… Downbeat Magazine named Akinmusire both Rising Star Jazz Artist of the Year and Rising Star Trumpet in their 2011 Critics Poll, in addition to giving his Blue Note debut, When the Heart Emerges Glistening, a glowing four-star review.  The Los Angeles Times named Akinmusire one of their 2011 “Faces to Watch” and The New York Times has also hailed the virtuoso, placing him on everyone’s it-list.  Now this time, the critics are unanimously on the money. Akinmusire and his quintet have emerged as a force with which to be reckoned; raising the stakes when it comes to individuality, intent, vision and modernism.

Unlike the respective eras of his predecessors; when Blanchard, Payton and Hargrove exploded onto the scene, Akinmusire has arrived at a time when there is so much disparity, discrepancy and downright indifference about jazz.  Follow any social media threads about the genre and it’s instantly apparent that there are a lot of disparaging sentiments toward the general state of jazz and every imaginable (and sometimes unimaginable) sub-context.  And whether you agree or take issue with what’s on the table, the underlying truth is that people are frustrated, making Akinmusire’s advent that much more substantial.

Much of the jazz audience proclaims an air of stagnation, lack of inventiveness and compromise of the art form.  Akinmusire agrees.  These subjects are compounded by matters of race, culture and the overall state of the music industry, making the waters for diagnosis conveniently murky for most, but not all.  “I don’t think many people are doing it,” Akinmusire blatantly states.  “I think a lot of people want the approval of critics, so they end up dumbing their shit down.”

For Akinmusire, the intent is first and needs to be established long before getting on the band stand.  His quintet is made up of close friends and long-time collaborators: tenor saxophonist Walter Smith III, pianist Gerald Clayton, bassist Harish Raghavan and fellow Oakland native, drummer Justin Brown.  Growing up in Oakland, Akinmusire’s philosophies about loyalty and community are entrenched in his artistry.  “I try to be as honest as possible with myself.  I try not to hang out with people who I don’t like.  I try to trust my instinct.  In five seconds of being around somebody, I know whether or not I can really vibe with them.  So, I think that’s related to the music too.  I try to surround myself with musicians who I feel challenged by as opposed to musicians who are just killing.  I try to surround myself with musicians who I don’t know how they’re going to sound six months from now, or five years from now, or ten years.   If I hear somebody playing, and I can say OK, twenty years from now, I know exactly how they’re going to sound; I don’t really fuck with them. I think all of that is related.”

From the opening track of When the Heart Emerges Glistening, there is a relentless fire which rages from the band, causing a neck-snapping reaction from the listener.  It is reminiscent, but only in the sense that you are transported to a time when jazz as a whole was courageous and bold.  The telepathic nature of the band’s interaction and the ensuing execution is mind-blowing.  “I think that everybody in the band is extremely hard on themselves; they’re never satisfied,” says Akinmusire, as he tries to put their chemistry into words.  “Like, if we had the best performance ever, and you come backstage, we’re all gonna be sitting there with our heads down like ‘Man, that sucked I need to practice.’  Everybody is constantly shedding and trying to move forward.  And there are no egos in the band at all…at all.  Nobody ever gets mad at the other person for messing up or changing parts or anything like that.  So, I think there’s that and also we’ve known each other for so long.  I grew up with Justin.  I met him when he was in middle school.  I’ve known Walter since 2001.  Harish, I’ve known for maybe 6 years.  Gerald, I met when he was still in high school, and Sam Harris (the new pianist in the group), I went to Manhattan School of Music with him.  And I just grew up like that.  I grew up in North Oakland and there’s this saying that you stick with your crew from the beginning to the end, even if there have been some weird, funny development issues, it will eventually…you know…it’s like family.  No matter what, you’re supposed to have their back.  I think that everybody who I have in the band has the same sort of outlook and I think you hear that in the music.

To co-produce the album, Akinmusire called upon his mentor, fellow Manhattan School alum, and Blue Note label mate, Jason Moran, to help translate the magic which is so essential to the band, to record format.  “I didn’t have to explain anything to him; that’s why I picked him, because he’s all about hitting and being real honest…he embodies that in his art,” explains Akinmusire, who wanted the album to feel as raw and in-the-moment as possible.  “It was just a constant reminder to come out of the booth and see Jason sitting there.  It was like, I gotta be about the music.  I can’t be like I’m on Blue Note and stressing about this shit.  He helped to relax me and helped me to remember my purpose as an artist.”

This element of intangible guidance and rearing from Moran is quite familiar to Akinmusire.  Having never had a trumpet lesson until he reached college, he honed his skills as a trumpeter in a very unconventional fashion, especially for these days of extreme institutionalization of the music.  Akinmusire recalls, “I went to a jazz camp… I don’t know how we heard about it.  Maybe there was a flier at the school, and I went.  And all these old-school musicians were teaching there and they sort of became my mentors.  Bassist Herbie Lewis… I met him, and then Donald Bailey, who played with Jimmy Smith and all these people.  They just sort of started mentoring me.  They would pick me up from the house, and take me record shopping or bring me on their gigs, and I would just sit there.  Some taught at college. They would pick me up and take me to their college classes.  They really just started mentoring me.  I never really had a teacher.  I didn’t sit there and play rudimental studies, and stuff, it was really ‘groid’, like ‘Here’s a trumpet and I’m going to teach you about the history…about the music.’  Just through stories, just old-school style.  Like, most of these guys, they were old-school.  They didn’t know shit about classical studies, they just picked their shit up and played…smoked weed; some of them were ex-Black Panthers, like real ‘groid’, you know?  I mean, I would get with Roy [Hargrove] and Nick [Payton] when they came into town like, ‘Is my embouchure OK?  Yeah?  OK, cool.’  But I never had a lesson.”

This crucial piece of Akinmusire’s story is no doubt the principal component of the development of his prodigious voice.  It also manifested as an expected point of contention, when he got to the collegiate juncture of study.  “By the time I came to high school, I already knew Billy Higgins, I knew Joe Henderson.  So you got these cats [at Manhattan School] telling me blah-blah-blah, and I’m thinking, ‘That’s not what he was just telling me.’  So there was a lot of arguing.”

The institutionalized setting in which jazz has found itself engulfed, is one of the most debated issues, with most viewing the predicament as a double-edged sword.  The argument being, that while the formal setting of jazz in schools gives exposure to young people who may not have otherwise discovered the art form, in a time where venues for jazz are closing at record speed, and pop-culture is eerily dominating, the flip side is an ill-appropriate, overly-Westernized approach to jazz, stripping it of its most essential elements; otherwise known as its “Blackness”.

We’re all being honest here, right?

Photo by Clay Patrick McBride

The overall discontentment with jazz is comfortably enigmatic, until you dig deeper and realize this “thing” everyone is missing, is the part which is most ancestral and least able to be captured in a school setting severely devoid of Black people.  Consequently there are two broad views:  One which has many Black people arguing that they are being written out of the jazz “present” and conversely, the other has many people strongly, but naively believing there is no room or relevance for race in a discussion regarding jazz.  Akinmusire’s take is based on neither premise, per se and as in his music, Akinmusire’s honesty is no bullshit.

“I don’t think you can take someone’s culture,” he explains.  “Once something becomes tangible, then you can take it away and that’s because we don’t have it here in our hearts.  So maybe that’s why I don’t understand [the first viewpoint].  It’s like, I’m Black; you can’t take that away from me. I live jazz; you can’t take that away from me.  If we have a whole community who understands that it’s here [points to his heart], you can’t take that away from us.  That’s the way it was with the be-boppers, before jazz education came and made it this tangible thing and a lot of people started believing it.”

The moment he said that to me, my vision cleared.  Honestly, it never really dawned on me that the onus might be on the Black jazz community, or lack thereof.  Akinmusire was born to a Mississippi-raised mother, and a Nigerian father; neither of whom were musical or very familiar with jazz.  The first musician on either side of his family, who was discovered by jazz, and not the other way around, Akinmusire truly speaks from a rare and untainted perspective.

“To say ‘this is ours’…that’s a known thing, we don’t need to necessarily say that, and saying it is not necessarily  going to make people not want to take it away if that’s what they’re trying to do.  It’s just going to exclude people like, ‘Oh I can’t do that.’  And those people might have valid things to say and contribute to the music.  I think if you just live that…like, to me, Mark Turner is like that.  He’ll never say a word.  Or, like Marcus Gilmore.  These cats don’t talk, but if you get on the band stand with them, you know you have to deal, and that’s some black shit.  Like yeah, this is our music.  But if you’re not stepping up to the plate and playing like that, then yeah you have to talk ‘They’re taking it away.’  You think Trane had to say that?  He didn’t have to say nothing. You think Lee Konitz was going to get up there with the John Coltrane Quartet?  You don’t have to say nothing.”

BOOM.

It was a bucket of ice water thrown to the face, but I’m wide awake and that’s a good thing.  The truth is, Black art forms have been habitually and historically compromised, but there comes a time when the discussion has to lead to a diagnosis and the diagnosis has to lead to a treatment and then, the treatment has to begin and Akinmusire, through his words, but ultimately through his music, has given jazz a serious bedside visit.

“George Wein hit me up last year and was like, ‘I want you to play at Zankel Hall,’”  Akinmusire tells me as we stroll down a Williamsburg street on a sunny Brooklyn afternoon.  “He wanted the quintet.  I said, ‘How about I do a big band…an all-black big band?’  He was like, ‘Yeah it’s cool!  Is that because you want to reclaim the music?’ I said, ‘No…it’s just that I want the community;  I miss the community.’  When I was coming up it was really inspiring.  I used to go out and see Roy Hargrove, Eric Lewis, Marcus and EJ Strickland, Bilal…that shit was so inspiring for me to come to New York and see all these great Black musicians just really trying to push themselves and now that doesn’t really happen and I think that the music is suffering because of the lack of community of Blacks.  If we don’t have a community, we can’t really complain, so I think that’s what needs to happen first.”

Photo by Clay Patrick McBride

 

That sense of community also influences Akinmusire’s writing, as he composes specifically with his tightly knit quintet in mind. He says of the interwoven nature of his band, “It’s a blessing and a curse because I can’t write for anybody else, because I’ve been playing with Walter for so long. Justin is the only drummer I’ve been playing with consistently for the last thirteen years.  I mean there was Zach Harmon, when I was working at the Monk Institute. That was two years.  But really, with all of my compositions, I’m hearing Justin.  So when I play with other people, when they try to interpret their way it just doesn’t feel right… same thing with Walter.  He has such a specific sound and tone and way of phrasing and you know, we phrase together so when I play with somebody else and they’re not really getting it, I find myself feeling uneasy and getting upset… same thing with Harish.”  Akinmusire penned twelve of the thirteen songs on When the Heart Emerges Glistening, his pieces as distinguished and refreshing as his playing.  The album feels cinematic, in part with a theme-like pensiveness throughout. There is nothing surface about this album, but it never compromises its accessibility.  It is one of the most modern statements to come along in a while, with the culmination of history that is obviously Akinmusire’s foundation clearly not acting as a hindrance to his singular voice.

 

“I feel like people who consider themselves traditionalists are ignorant, and that comes from a lack of understanding that whatever it is you’re analyzing is related to the history of that time,” says Akinmusire about the strongholds which many so-called jazz purists have cemented in their expectations.  “So bebop was relating to what was happening at that time and it was modern at that time.  So I just try to play the music that’s of the now right now and that’s related to me and I just try to be honest with who I am.  Today I feel this way and tomorrow I may feel another way and I think it takes courage to say what I thought yesterday was wrong and I think a lot of people are scared to do that.  That’s one thing my girlfriend has taught me.  She’s very honest and she will die for honesty, and that’s something that has affected my music… same thing with my mom.”

 

What is most treasurable about Akinmusire is that like the title of this record, which represents a stripping down of all that is apparent to expose what is really important in life, he himself, stripped of the critical acclaim and accolades is, at his core, the epitome of an artist.  The word honesty or a variation of such is used in this piece alone fourteen times, not because of redundancy on my part, or naïveté on Akinmusire’s.  But because it’s the engine of innovation; the thing which will help elevate jazz to its purpose once more.♦


 

Drum Composers Series Pt. 2: Adam Cruz

Photo by: Shelagh Murphy

Drummer Adam Cruz released the aptly titled Milestone (Sunnyside) this past spring.  A striking debut, Cruz re-introduces himself as not just a deftly talented drummer, but an impressive composer.  Milestone is comprised of eight original compositions and a fantastic ensemble to interpret them, with saxophonists Miguel Zenón, Steve Wilson and Chris Potter, pianist Ed Simon, guitarist Steve Cardenas, and bassist Ben Street.  An album with a superb amount of depth and freshness, Milestone has (conceptually-speaking) been years in the making.  But in life and in music, timing is everything, and perhaps for Cruz, it is most distinctly illustrated in his outing as a bandleader.  For what seems like a long overdue venture is actually right on schedule; a project culminating life experience, introspection, awakening, and a gentle push from those closest to him.

With a career spanning over twenty years now, and over forty album credits as a sideman, the New York native has already earned his rightful place among the company of jazz music’s most exceptional modern drummers.  Regarding his decision to compose, he references one of his earlier pivotal moments, which followed his relatively short run in pianist Chick Corea’s band. “[It had] less to do with piano per se, and even less maybe, to do with music,” explains Cruz.   “But just more of a psychological point I was at, I think.  So after I did that run with Chick, which was just a little over a year, there was a bit more of a space in my life professionally. It was before I started with Danilo and  I wasn’t steady with anyone at that moment, so I felt compelled to look deeper at that time, like hmmm, what am I doing here with music, with my drumming, my writing?  And just kind of realizing that composition was a major way I’d like to express myself.  In the late 90s, I felt I had to invest myself more in that direction; kind of a self-awareness that came up.  Because maybe up until that time, it was just more like simply ‘playing gigs.’  And so when that gig [with Chick] finished I felt that kind of a vista, a space…like now what?  So I looked a little more inside and realized this was something I wanted to develop more, with composition.  And so little by little I started to put my feet in that direction.”

A gutsy, haunting and pensive album, Milestone exhibits a musical cohesiveness so evident, and no doubt rooted in the longstanding relationships between Cruz and his band mates.  That closeness also gave Cruz a trusted push to go for what was now calling him.  “The earlier pieces I had written, I didn’t feel that there was a particular sound of identity that made them…I would say it was just a little more run of the mill by my own standards and didn’t have…identity is the word.  I didn’t feel something coming through like I did with these pieces.  Up until the last minute, I wasn’t sure how well they were gonna work, but when we had the first rehearsal, a year before recording, I was really pleased.  I said okay, there is something here.  And then the encouragement of the band.  Everyone was really supportive of the music and revealed that to me so there was an instinct that said now’s the time.  And I wanted it to be with people I feel a certain relationship with and have a certain friendship with.  So Steve Wilson for instance, and also Miguel and Ed Simon in part, are all people whose bands I’ve played in.  I think when you have a relationship with somebody rather than bringing somebody in who’s maybe a great player but you haven’t played with much and is gonna do a great job on a record date…for me, I was trying to get somewhat of a band feeling and when you have the relationship, there’s a certain depth you perceive in bands like that.  So I was trying to honor a band aesthetic from the start.  That, and my own intuition of what would work well.”

Cruz and bassist Ben Street have had the longest union.  Together they are two-thirds of Danilo Perez’ trio, recently hitting the decade mark as a band.  His time with Danilo was, among many things, a major source of support for Cruz’ decision to write.  “Sometimes as a drummer, one can have a complex about harmony, and when you’re putting the notes together,” reveals Cruz.  “I remember reading something that [Jeff] “Tain” [Watts] had said.  Something that I really related to.  He was talking to Kenny Kirkland about writing, and he was wondering if like, is this okay, making certain harmonic moves?  Kenny just said trust your ears, trust your instinct.  That kind of happened with me and Danilo.  Danilo encouraged me not to think so much about nomenclature or harmony in a certain kind of fixed way but to assemble the notes and look for sounds before you know what you’re naming them and trust what you’re hearing, and that opened a lot for me because as a drummer you have to learn how to trust that.  Because we’re coming from a non-melodic instrument so for me, it took some time.  I think that’s part of why it took so long also.  Just trusting my own instinct and ears to what I’m doing as a composer.”

If Milestone were cinematic, it would begin with the victorious ending.  The triumph is in the air from the outset of the first song.  The songs are deeply colorful and communicative.  I haven’t heard many albums where I feel like I can almost hear the words of what these melodies may be saying.  And although the album is dark in mood (one of my favorite vibes) there are these peaks of elation, and hope and epiphany; particularly, on the album’s opening track, “Secret Life.”

One striking detail is that Cruz doesn’t seem to be proving any of the wrong points on this album.  When you listen, you know that this is a drummer’s album, but for all of the right reasons.  The drum execution is delectable, and seems to float within all of the layers of the music, rather than pounding on top of it.

“I realize that the reason that it came out with that kind of a balance is maybe because I feel like I had so much energy, and more of my private life, focused on composing and playing the piano while in my professional life, there was no evidence of that,” offers Cruz.  “I was playing drums on gigs of course, and there’s a way one can say that because of studying piano or composing that it’s coming through my drumming.  But you know I was just spending so much time writing and studying piano that I think when it came time to put the pieces together, and I felt like this is a new part of me or a new part of my artistic process that I really wanted to be focused on that dimension.  And perhaps I’d let the drums not be this center stage or that focus because I had been spending so many months — years really — with putting the notes together.  So I kind of pieced it together that way.”

Cruz’ “tailor-made” compositions further exemplify the closeness of the band.  There is thoughtfulness in all of the pieces, driven by a personal connection to the other musicians, creating one of the most synergistic albums that I’ve heard in a very long time.  “I would write first on the piano and then a little bit on Logic, and as I was hearing the parts, I was just enjoying myself imagining the players,” Cruz reflects.  There’s something about Miguel Zenón’s sound when I would listen back to my own midi recording of “Secret Life,” I thought about him on that melody, and it really made sense.  It might just be a moment when someone might jump out as an image and that would be enough for me to say ok let’s try him on the whole thing.  I also felt just having dynamic soloists like Chris Potter and Miguel Zenón …all of them really because I have these long sections that were wide open and I wanted musicians who could bring a certain sense of power but at the same time they’re all very sensitive, and tuned into what’s going on around them. They’re not gonna go off on their own so to speak but yield to what is happening in the band.”

It may be a more recent phenomenon that jazz drummers are composing, but pondering the subject, Cruz reflected on some of the drummers who have done it before, and who he is influenced by, giving me an insightful history lesson in the meantime.  “One of my favorite all time heroes is Roy Haynes, though not known for composing.  For me, ever few bars is a composition with Roy Haynes, the way he plays!  I just saw Billy Hart at the [Village] Vanguard last week, and he’s always written, and he’s one of my favorites.  I think he just did a new record too.  Victor Lewis; he’s a great composer.  He was a teacher of mine.  I took a couple lessons, I used to go see Victor play a lot when I was coming up and he has wonderful tunes, so yeah there are some exceptions.  Al Foster, who writes…Jack DeJohnette, who played piano first.  Paul Motian is a very inspiring composer as well. So yeah those are some models. There’s a tune “Sister Cheryl,” by Tony Williams which is a good tune.  He actually studied more formally in later years. I think he was trying to get a Masters [degree] in composition and was getting really into classical composition.  Before he passed I know he was studying more seriously.  That’s why it was such a tragic loss, because it looked like he was looking to expand even further.

Cruz’ cross-pollenating of music styles and aesthetics in his drumming is often an intriguing topic for many of jazz music’s analysts.  On Milestone, there are such broad strokes of diverse expression.  Songs like “Emjé” and “The Gadfly” having an undeniable and infectious Latin drive, while on songs like “Outer Reaches” Cruz is steeped in the sound of the African American tradition, playing a brilliant fury of imaginative lines, where you can hear the influence of drummers like

Photo by: Fernando Aceves

Roy Haynes.  Often regarded as a Latin drummer who plays jazz versus a “Latin jazz drummer,” I wondered about the connotation of that kind of seemingly congratulatory analysis.  “If you’re somebody who’s Latino or somebody who’s mixed or of any ethnicity really, like, you can sense those implications,” says Cruz.  “I’d like to think that if people make that distinction, it’s not necessarily about the dilution of the Latin aesthetic being a good thing, but more of an acknowledgment of a certain kind of creative process going on, a certain kind of flexibility that gets associated with jazz and is not perhaps as commonly associated with what is typically considered Latin jazz.  I think we’re living in a time when there’s a breakdown of old perceptions, and so we sometimes witness the old ways of seeing things, the old boxes that are in place.  So because you know, there might have been a time when things were a little more clear-cut.  Oh, you got a Latin date, you get this guy, you got a jazz date you get that guy, and there was some truth to that.  But in the times we live in now, the boundaries are so much more fluid and you have musicians from Latin America like David Sanchez for instance, who I play with.  Or Danilo for that matter, who are incredible jazz musicians in every way, and breaking barriers.  Miguel Zenón, for instance, or Antonio Sanchez, you know? And you have drummers like Marcus Gilmore playing with Gonzalo Rubalcaba dealing with clave and all, and David Virelles from Cuba who seriously knows his Bud Powell and Thelonious Monk.  I think that the perception perhaps of some people who write about music is not totally caught up with the reality of how fluid things are.  I’m Latino, I’m Jewish, Italian, black and white, and I grew up here around New York.  I feel just as much of a relationship to bebop and Art Blakey and Roy Haynes as to Tito Puente and Willie Bobo.  Beyond that, I think we need to realize that just in the music itself there is often more in common than there is in difference.  If I hear Roy Haynes playing a drum solo it often sounds to me like a great timbale solo.  At its source, the music at the roots, I feel like since the discovery of the New World, the codes that came with the slaves, and the music that came all over the New World is the major phenomenon.  There’s all these different branches how in Brazil the music took shape, and how in the Caribbean, The States, New Orleans.  But I think we’re getting to a point where if we look, we can see an underlying, unifying principal.  And I think musician’s today are starting to not identify as much the locality as with that principal that underlies it.”

Adam Cruz and his Milestone group play tomorrow, August 10th at the Harbor Conservatory at 1 East 104th Street.  7:30pm.  Concert is FREE.  For more details, click here .

Remembering Michael

“There have been others, but never two lovers like music…music…and me.”

Michael Jackson

It has always been slightly unsettling for me to celebrate or commemorate an artist around the anniversary of his or her death.  After all, it is what a particular artist accomplished or inspired during their lifetime that is being remembered, and only logical that we therefore reflect upon them during their coming into the world, and not their departure from it.  But when it comes to Michael Jackson, it’s a different story — at least for me, and I believe, for many.  I think this is because Michael’s actual death was so profound.  The gaping hole left in the hearts of millions symbolized that losing Michael Jackson was the single most culturally impacting event of our lifetime.  I’m sure you know exactly where you were and what you felt when you learned that Michael was gone.

I was either so young, or not yet born when we tragically lost musical giants like John Lennon, Otis Redding, Sam Cooke and Lee Morgan.  Furthermore, my mom was pregnant with my older brother when both Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy were assassinated, and had already mourned the previous deaths of JFK and Malcolm X.  America has undoubtedly suffered terrible loss of artistic, cultural and political icons within the scope of our lifetimes.  But, the interesting thing about Michael’s death, which is so distinctive, is that because his career spanned over 40 years, our parents and even grand-parents loved him just the same as those of my generation, and for all intents and purposes, actually “knew” him first, as much as the Thriller generation loves to claim him as being “really” ours.  (I’m guilty).

Michael’s impact is so far beyond music, and the various contexts through which he can be intensely studied and analyzed are indicative of that.  One thing that deeply affected me upon his death was that for all who thought that Michael Jackson forgot that he was Black…well, the media had not.  But thankfully, neither did Black folks.  Michael was celebrated and memorialized most appropriately by his people; without the damper of controversy and distractions, which were exacerbated by the media.  The beautifully relentless home-going celebration at the Apollo Theater in Harlem was the most brilliant example to the world that Michael not only understood his roots, but he was the embodiment of Black culture.

That being said, Michael’s indelible influence on the world is unprecedented and I cannot even grasp the totality of what that really means.  It surpasses any sort of quantification.  In a sense, like Michael himself, his influence is not to be understood but simply appreciated and respected.  There’s nothing else to do with such an other-worldly gift we are so blessed to have experienced.  Here, some of the most prominent artists in modern jazz have taken a moment to reflect on what Michael Jackson means to them.  Besides, Michael’s musical influence reaches every corner of every genre of music; a lesser discussed topic as it relates to jazz, but perhaps one of the most important angles to look at.  Enjoy.

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“To me, Michael Jackson is important as an artist because not only did he understand the role of the artist in society — he went far beyond it.”
Ambrose Akinmusire

“One thing that’s great about Michael, which isn’t often discussed or recognized, is that Off The Wall and Thriller are, for lack of a better word, Jazz records. The chordal structures, melodic content, string and horn arrangements, the Blues, the drive and swing of the rhythm section are all hallmarks of the so-called Jazz idiom. They represent, so far, the pinnacle of success for Black Popular Music and it is of no coincidence that those two records coincided with the return of the music otherwise referred to as straight-ahead Jazz. These records did more than just turn people on to Michael Jackson or R&B, they made people fans of music at a time when the industry was in a slump, much like so-called Jazz did around the turn of the century. ‘Thriller’ and ‘Off The Wall’ are essentially a continuum of the work first established on the ‘Hot Fives’ and ‘Hot Sevens’ by the world’s first Rock star, Louis Armstrong.”
– Nicholas Payton

“Michael Jackson proved that music and dance are probably the most powerful uniting forces in this world.  His style continues to cross genres, religious beliefs, class systems, and political and racial divides more than any other artist to date.  Everyone in every corner of the world knows his name and image.  And all of this came from this simple fact of how unique and great his music and dancing really was.  It was produced, executed, and recorded to the highest level, and it will keep on influencing peoples’ lives beyond our years.”
– Mike Moreno

“MJ is an icon. Unbelievably talented and devoted his life to his passion for art and humanity.  So hugely influential and groundbreaking, and seemed like such a beautifully gentle, caring soul.  Growing up on his music, I think we all felt a personal connection.  He makes us want to sing along, get up and dance, lay down and cry, stand up and shout, reflect upon and then actively do something.  That’s what art should do.  I will forever shake my head in amazement at his singing, his dancing; he was the greatest entertainer who ever lived and quite possibly ever will.  No one can touch that.”
– Gretchen Parlato

“The feeling I always got from MJ’s music is that he never hid or second guessed his inner voice and passion.  You undeniably feel every word and every dance move.  So overwhelmingly inspiring.”
Casey Benjamin

“I believe Michael Jackson was here to show us how small the world really is, and his vehicle was his talent as an entertainer.  No matter where one is from, when one is born, what language one speaks, what doctrine one reveres, etc… most of the world that existed during or exists post his life has been moved deeply by Michael’s talent.  This is evidence of something much larger than fame.  It is evidence of what is possible.  Genius, in my opinion, is not measured by mere talent.  It is measured by what those talents have contributed to the world.  His impact on us was so huge because he constantly had a vector, a purpose for the talents he was given.”
Marcus Strickland

“Nobody has been MEGA famous for as long as he has.  Also, with the ability to change and be a pioneer in each change.  He is a master vocalist-performer-dancer and just has a musical sound of his own.  Not to mention he has inspired everyone, and is hands down, the most famous person to walk the Earth.”
Robert Glasper

“Michael Jackson was clearly an artist of the highest order. Perhaps the quality that he possessed which stood out to me most was his ability to convey a particular message with utmost sincerity, sophistication, character and execution. His influence is seemingly infinite and his legacy will live on forever. I am truly grateful that I was born during his lifetime.
– Marcus Gilmore

“MJ was an extension in the evolution of Black entertainment.,  He pulled from James Brown, Sammy Davis Jr. and Jackie Wilson, making him the greatest in his time.”
– Jesse McB
ride

“Michael was a beacon for excellence as an artist.  He was always looking for the next level of perfection.”
– Kendrick Scott

“MJ is the epitome of timeless.  His influence on my generation is profound.  From his music to the ‘Beat It’ jacket.  You wanted to sing, dance, and be like Mike.  And that impact is just as strong on my 5-year old.”
– Keyon Harrold

“Michael Jackson was a great inspiration to me for many different reasons, but there are three that stand out.  One, he checked out and absorbed everything. If you listen to songs or look at videos of MJ when he was young, he knew James Brown, Ray Charles, and all the legends that came before him.  He knew many genres of music and appreciated them.  I even saw a video of him tap dancing to Mingus on You Tube.  The beautiful thing is that you can hear all of these influences in all the music he did.  Two, he was a true activist/humanitarian. He wasn’t afraid to speak out about the bad things that were going on in the world.  He wasn’t passive and he put his thoughts in his music. He wasn’t trying to be politically correct and didn’t care what others thought.  Three, he was all about moving forward.  If you look at MJ throughout his career, he always surrounded himself with those that were current and had something fresh to say. He reminds me of Miles Davis in that way.”
Jaleel Shaw

“Michael Jackson single-handedly squashed every stereotype in music.  His God given ability, style, and personality are the blueprint to date.”
– Kenneth Whalum III


I loved the cartoons in the Thriller record sleeve.. The one of MJ and paul mccartney pulling the girl was particularly memorable.. Seeing that image, it was hard to hear the song and not laugh! That record and the album art were definitely a highlight of the Vasandani family record collection.
– Sachal Vasandani

“MJ for me was and still is the total package of an entertainer.  He had everything: the voice, moves and the charisma.  He was always striving to better himself as an artist.  He never took his talents for granted.  He always knew where he was going and what steps to take to get him there.”
– Johnathan Blake

Thank you, Michael.