JazzManJim
On the Downbeat
- Joined
- Sep 12, 2001
- Posts
- 27,360
A true story wherein I bemoan the lack of musical education in this country...
I was in Borders the day after Christmas browsing around with a fresh new gift card in my hand I had received the day before. I was in the jazz section, which abuts the pop section and I overheard a conversation between two folks who were, by my estimation, in their early 20's.
They were talking about the music which was playing from the store speakers and how cool it sounded. They used words like "Old school" and "hot" to describe the quartet led by a soulful and rude saxophone. I kind of smiled to myself hearing them talk about it because they were giving glowing reviews to music I had heard all my life and love to the very marrow of my bones.
What brought me up short was when one of them asked who was playing the saxophone. The other one had no idea either and guessed that it might be someone "like Kenny G or that Yanni guy" eek: ). The first one kid of agreed and said that they wanted to pick up the CD so he'd head over to look up Kenny G and see what CDs were there.
Okay, this was one affront to the very heart of jazz I couldn't take. I casually walked over (and I say casual because the Kenny G thing caused a good portion of my brain to seize and I wasn't actually sure I had motor control back yet. Life support seemed hazy, too) and said "His name is John Coltrane. The song is 'My Favorite Things'". And I smiled.
So did they and they actually bought a Trane CD.
But what I really need to know is what the hell has happened to the youth of America when a groundbreaking recording by a seminal jazz genius is described as "like Kenny G or that Yanni guy"?
We simply are going to hell in a handbasket. And the soundtrack's gonna suck when we get there.
I was in Borders the day after Christmas browsing around with a fresh new gift card in my hand I had received the day before. I was in the jazz section, which abuts the pop section and I overheard a conversation between two folks who were, by my estimation, in their early 20's.
They were talking about the music which was playing from the store speakers and how cool it sounded. They used words like "Old school" and "hot" to describe the quartet led by a soulful and rude saxophone. I kind of smiled to myself hearing them talk about it because they were giving glowing reviews to music I had heard all my life and love to the very marrow of my bones.
What brought me up short was when one of them asked who was playing the saxophone. The other one had no idea either and guessed that it might be someone "like Kenny G or that Yanni guy" eek: ). The first one kid of agreed and said that they wanted to pick up the CD so he'd head over to look up Kenny G and see what CDs were there.
Okay, this was one affront to the very heart of jazz I couldn't take. I casually walked over (and I say casual because the Kenny G thing caused a good portion of my brain to seize and I wasn't actually sure I had motor control back yet. Life support seemed hazy, too) and said "His name is John Coltrane. The song is 'My Favorite Things'". And I smiled.
So did they and they actually bought a Trane CD.
But what I really need to know is what the hell has happened to the youth of America when a groundbreaking recording by a seminal jazz genius is described as "like Kenny G or that Yanni guy"?
We simply are going to hell in a handbasket. And the soundtrack's gonna suck when we get there.