I view most hype with suspicion. Maybe it’s because I’m from a generation that wears its love of conspiracy theories permanently emblazoned on its trendy sleeve. There is a hypocrisy in my generation, we like to believe we are far from the popular consensus, constantly vocalizing our distaste for all things popular by rebelling and reading only alternative press (online of course, got to save those trees!) while sipping on our Starbucks coffee, and sporting our purposefully low key but overpriced hipster clothing.
Yes, I hate the hipster in me. I try to run as far away from it. At least, as far as my retro Nike’s will take me. Sometimes, just sometimes, I realize that there might be something in the hype that I should pay attention to. In the case of Jose James, there is truth behind the hype.
Every few years the jazz industry hype machine starts to churn out the next coming of the latest young lions. A new artist who is brought forward in an effort to breath life into the supposed dying form of jazz. Since I’ve been alive I’m quite sure that jazz has died over 150 times, pronounced dead on arrival with no hopes of resuscitation. But yet, it’s still here, and the seminal birth of the new young lions continues. A few years ago the throne of young lion hood was given to Jamie Cullum. This young enthusiastic artist with supposed jazz like tendencies popped on the scene and the jazz world went crazy with delight. Cullum, a pint sized piano virtuoso with Backstreet Boy like looks, and a penchant for climbing on top of his piano bench and popping around the stage, was just what the jazz world was looking for; the young performer who would be capable of bringing the next generation of jazz lovers to the table. A virtual Blue Note wet dream. There was no way that jazz would die. Let the resurrection begin.
But, for all his hipness. There was something very contrived about Cullum. I bought his album, of course I thought him doing Pharrell’s “Frontin” was very cool, but I felt that the album was all hype, and hot air. I’ve listened to it a few times but I didn’t buy the notion that he was a “jazz” artist. To me he’s a construct. Somehow, the industry seduces people into believing that a musician has the credibility to be called a jazz artist solely because they play a baby grand piano and throw in some predictable jazz improvisations. It was hip that Cullum dressed like the young dude most likely to being chilling with some hot girl, at his loft, burning one down, and playing Coltrane LP’s on his turntable. But, that was the specific reason why the young lion craze is so maddening, it’s built on what people think should be cool instead of what is real and uncontrived.
Then comes an artist, like Jose James, that has some buzz and I look over with a jaundiced eye and wonder, if it could be the real deal. Alas, the hipster may be on to something this time.
Over the last few months there has been some buzz building for Jose James. Those who have been lucky to hear tracks on Gilles Peterson’s show (the hipster show for those who don’t think they are hipsters) knew that James had been signed to Peterson’s Brownswood label. I heard of him from a close musical guru who tutors me in all music that I should know. If it isn’t good, he won’t spin it. I happened to hear the track blackeyedsusan and was impressed. I wondered who this person with Heron and Withers, so clearly ancestors in his voice. They seemed to walk together in his phrasing. Then I happened to catch a video of him performing this song, and what a delight. A true jazz artist: the guy who looked like he was most likely to have, J Dilla and Dinah Washington in his iPod. The guy, who most likely would thump a fist in a hello, and ask if you heard the latest Rza while checking out the local jazz spot, There was nothing contrived about his image because his image was anything but contrived. James seemed like an artists artist. Not willing to change his image to become the next poster child for the young lion throne.
With his sometimes delightfully fragile and vibrantly rich jazz inflected voice and rich jazz improvation, he is truly one of the most exciting artists to come to the jazz sphere. Most of the songs on his album The Dreamer are deliberately slow and gloriously downbeat. There is a hip-hop vibe in his sound, and it’s not in the most typical way, of jazz meets hip-hop project #556. It’s in a more cerebral way, in that you will hear melodies of samples in hip hop songs you used to bump back in the day. It’s music that hits you in the basement of your consciousness. The blue light that you turn on to set the mood for some slow languishing lovemaking. James dares you not to feel this beat below the belt, and he’s not afraid to hit you square in your chest to make sure you see how serious he is about the sound that he and his band are creating. Sure he comes with some pre hyped, hipsterness but it’s well earned. In his voice I feel as if we are finally reaching a long overdue period in jazz where jazz is once again opening itself up to artistry that is more removed from the contrived stifled jazz conventions that has turned off some of the younger generation, the need to stay within pre drawn lines. James is attempting to blur that line, and it’s a beautiful thing to hear.
I’m curious to see how this album will take off. Will the old Jazz guard embrace him? And do we really care if they do? Maybe, it’s time that the hipsters start planning a coup to over thorough the old guard. Or maybe that’s a little but too 90’s of a thing too do. Oh, the quandary of the hipster.
Yes, I hate the hipster in me. I try to run as far away from it. At least, as far as my retro Nike’s will take me. Sometimes, just sometimes, I realize that there might be something in the hype that I should pay attention to. In the case of Jose James, there is truth behind the hype.
Every few years the jazz industry hype machine starts to churn out the next coming of the latest young lions. A new artist who is brought forward in an effort to breath life into the supposed dying form of jazz. Since I’ve been alive I’m quite sure that jazz has died over 150 times, pronounced dead on arrival with no hopes of resuscitation. But yet, it’s still here, and the seminal birth of the new young lions continues. A few years ago the throne of young lion hood was given to Jamie Cullum. This young enthusiastic artist with supposed jazz like tendencies popped on the scene and the jazz world went crazy with delight. Cullum, a pint sized piano virtuoso with Backstreet Boy like looks, and a penchant for climbing on top of his piano bench and popping around the stage, was just what the jazz world was looking for; the young performer who would be capable of bringing the next generation of jazz lovers to the table. A virtual Blue Note wet dream. There was no way that jazz would die. Let the resurrection begin.
But, for all his hipness. There was something very contrived about Cullum. I bought his album, of course I thought him doing Pharrell’s “Frontin” was very cool, but I felt that the album was all hype, and hot air. I’ve listened to it a few times but I didn’t buy the notion that he was a “jazz” artist. To me he’s a construct. Somehow, the industry seduces people into believing that a musician has the credibility to be called a jazz artist solely because they play a baby grand piano and throw in some predictable jazz improvisations. It was hip that Cullum dressed like the young dude most likely to being chilling with some hot girl, at his loft, burning one down, and playing Coltrane LP’s on his turntable. But, that was the specific reason why the young lion craze is so maddening, it’s built on what people think should be cool instead of what is real and uncontrived.
Then comes an artist, like Jose James, that has some buzz and I look over with a jaundiced eye and wonder, if it could be the real deal. Alas, the hipster may be on to something this time.
Over the last few months there has been some buzz building for Jose James. Those who have been lucky to hear tracks on Gilles Peterson’s show (the hipster show for those who don’t think they are hipsters) knew that James had been signed to Peterson’s Brownswood label. I heard of him from a close musical guru who tutors me in all music that I should know. If it isn’t good, he won’t spin it. I happened to hear the track blackeyedsusan and was impressed. I wondered who this person with Heron and Withers, so clearly ancestors in his voice. They seemed to walk together in his phrasing. Then I happened to catch a video of him performing this song, and what a delight. A true jazz artist: the guy who looked like he was most likely to have, J Dilla and Dinah Washington in his iPod. The guy, who most likely would thump a fist in a hello, and ask if you heard the latest Rza while checking out the local jazz spot, There was nothing contrived about his image because his image was anything but contrived. James seemed like an artists artist. Not willing to change his image to become the next poster child for the young lion throne.
With his sometimes delightfully fragile and vibrantly rich jazz inflected voice and rich jazz improvation, he is truly one of the most exciting artists to come to the jazz sphere. Most of the songs on his album The Dreamer are deliberately slow and gloriously downbeat. There is a hip-hop vibe in his sound, and it’s not in the most typical way, of jazz meets hip-hop project #556. It’s in a more cerebral way, in that you will hear melodies of samples in hip hop songs you used to bump back in the day. It’s music that hits you in the basement of your consciousness. The blue light that you turn on to set the mood for some slow languishing lovemaking. James dares you not to feel this beat below the belt, and he’s not afraid to hit you square in your chest to make sure you see how serious he is about the sound that he and his band are creating. Sure he comes with some pre hyped, hipsterness but it’s well earned. In his voice I feel as if we are finally reaching a long overdue period in jazz where jazz is once again opening itself up to artistry that is more removed from the contrived stifled jazz conventions that has turned off some of the younger generation, the need to stay within pre drawn lines. James is attempting to blur that line, and it’s a beautiful thing to hear.
I’m curious to see how this album will take off. Will the old Jazz guard embrace him? And do we really care if they do? Maybe, it’s time that the hipsters start planning a coup to over thorough the old guard. Or maybe that’s a little but too 90’s of a thing too do. Oh, the quandary of the hipster.
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