The Process, Part One

Inspired by Steve Wallace’s blog, I’m starting a project where I can talk about what I have going on in my life, as I take on a new special project, that will slowly be revealed in the coming months. What I can speak to for the time being is my daily musical process. Some might consider this a blog. I view it as a way to document my thoughts… So it's a blog. 

What is particularly interesting about this blog is the date it is released. As I am typing this, we are aiming to finally end the COVID-19 pandemic. This is important, as it gives context to the mental well-being of people during this time, versus a future reader coming from a “normal life”. Or perhaps if someone time traveled from the past…… Anyways.

When the pandemic was fresh and had been around for roughly a month or two, I was not doing much at my old apartment in the Junction. Looking for a new place that would hopefully be my home for the year, I reached out to sublet from some jazz friends in another part of the city. The idea of the musical process, and what it truly means, came to me while I was living on Baldwin Street in Baldwin village, near Spadina. While I was here I was collecting CERB, income relief for those in the pandemic who are unemployed, and I spent every waking moment on music. I lived with two starkly different musicians that taught me a lot about various things, funnily enough, none of them music-related. I digress. From the second I woke up, the first thing I would do is go to my computer and compose music for 30 minutes to four hours. The biggest obstacle I had at first was addressing the question “What am I writing for?”. For context, the school I attend, University of Toronto, essentially halted all services for students: canceling Dick Oats as the guest artist, canceled final recitals for graduating students, with no plans for students whatsoever, aside from some grant aid. So here I am in this basement, thinking “I don’t have the 12tet to write for, I don’t have my octet to write for….. What do I do?”. I had convinced myself I had a mental block and that this pandemic posed a mental block for me, and there was simply nothing I could do.

And I think this is an important note to add, as I think a lot of my “colleagues” (I prefer the word friends) still have these thoughts to this day. Covid fatigue is not a fictitious state of mind. It just simply is, and can’t be avoided. But what I will say is that I felt really fortunate for the place I was at. Even though the musicians in the household didn’t inspire me to make music per se, it was more the fact that there was a musical spirit or energy in the air that made it conducive to write. I say this as I crashed at this apartment when I was in grade 12 applying to the University of Toronto. This house has been occupied by so many talented musicians in the past, this acted as a source of inspiration whether I was conscious of this or not. So I would say that this energy was able to lift me out of this covid fatigue and plunge me into such a dark place that it put me even further under that influence, that I will get into later.

Basically, the conclusion I came to was, I can’t keep making this excuse of having a mental block and I have to find what is the real problem. Although I had a lot of excuses like “my writing sounds the same” or “I am just not inspired”, these were simply excuses in my mind. The actual issue I eventually realized was my answer was instrumentation…. let me explain. While I was in school I had a clear goal for the instrumentation I was going to write for. I had the 12tet. When I wrote for that my goal was to create original compositions, and my eventual goal was to write music outside of conventional jazz composition and harmony, even though my writing would be so directly inspired by that. I also mentioned writing for my standards octet, for which I would mainly arrange American jazz standards for five horns. After realizing the mindset I get into for writing for each individual band, I immediately knew that I just wanted to create new instrumentations that would lend myself to creative writing. I firstly started with a very radical pedal project in my head. Although I can’t say too much about what this project was,, I would eventually come to terms with the fact that I couldn’t approach that idea, as I didn’t have nearly enough experience in the realm of pedals and electronic music. Quite simply, I had the idea for what I wanted to do, but I didn't have the first idea on how to implement the concepts I wished to achieve. Knowing this, I had a fork in the road. I could dedicate myself to electronics, or to writing ”modern” acoustic music. I said both! 

I put my pedal concept on the backburner, and create beats on a daw. I viewed this as a time where I can have fun, and directly see the fruits of my labor. Meanwhile, I started this musical writing project that I’ll be recording next month. My original instrumentation was baritone, trombone, trumpet, guitar, bass drums, as I thought this was bizarre instrumentation that would lead to a new thought. I would go on to write several compositions in this instrumentation, but I had another important element that aided this process. I came up with a concept that each song had to have at least two ideas. These ideas could be anything. It could be happy/sad, minor 9th interval/repetitive notes, notes going in contrasting motion/pickle, closed harmony/sixteenth notes, etc. Whatever I would compose, I usually had some really basic concepts that would lead the composition. Most noticeably, I wrote a composition called ‘The Basement Dweller’. Even the name gives you a mental image of what I depicted myself as at the time. The song's theme was 12 tones row/rock and roll. This song changed me from being a straight-ahead composer to one who can challenge his own mind. I mean this in the sense that I took control of my music, rather than the music taking control of me. What I mean by this, is a common testament shared by experienced composers. I would say 9/10 of seasoned composers come to confess that when they first write music, the music would write them in a way, and they would just express their own thoughts, be very repetitive, and have pieces of music that don’t express music, rather than their inability to get out of their grips. So this was a pretty big moment for me. The song’s time is 4/4 +4/4 +4/4 + ⅝. Is there a particular reason for this? No. That's why I like writing music. It’s the fact that I can just will something into existence, and my senses say I like it, so I like it. I don’t need to wait at the piano for some divine intervention that will inspire me to write the perfect idea…. Yeah, that's just not my current path, and if it is, that's ok! 

Funnily enough, the instrumentation for this recording has drastically changed. In reality, it is Trumpet Tenor Trombone, with a piano trio (Grand piano/Rhodes*, bass, drums) which is arguably one the most straight-ahead band instrumentations you can have! It directly mimics the instrumentation on Blue Train after all, which features Lee Morgan on trumpet, John Coltrane on tenor, Curtis Fuller on trombone, Kenny Drew on Piano, Paul Chambers on bass, and Philly Joe Jones on drums. Like many people, that was one of the first jazz records I owned on vinyl, and served as a large inspiration to me, along with some Monk, and Miles types of vinyl I also bought in early high school. So is mimicking this instrumentation bad? No. At least, I don’t think so. The thing is that I didn’t think about ‘Trane when I was choosing this group of instruments, I was thinking of the people I was going to be writing for when all this covid stuff is in the museums where it belongs, like other things… 

I am writing to my friends. My friends happen to be really freaking good at their instruments, and they have a strong desire to play music. I will say though that I have a strong spirit that links me to the music, that will never break. It was the mental image of the band, of Kaelin Murphy, David Hodgeson, Chirs Pruden, Evan Gratham and Jacob Slous that made me so excited to just compose that I didn’t really even take into account the other factors that come into play when getting a recording session together, like grant proposals, marketing, the purpose, and intent, etc. 

Anyways, that was my compositional thought process. I would have Finale (a music notation software) up, and whatever I set my mind to, I would always write something new to me. Aside from this, I still had many hours of the day to fill. Next, I would maybe eat something, or have a cigarette. I was more focused on playing music than on my well-being. I would shed/practice the trombone for 2-5 hours, given the time of the week, as at the time I was not nearly as efficient on the trombone as I am today. Although I was putting a pretty intense amount of hours on the horn, and there is no argument that I was improving, I could have developed much faster if I was a more efficient trombonist. This is mainly since I make mistakes. Although my ego makes me believe that I am a perfect trombonist, the sound that comes out of the end of the trombone is not the same sound that I hear, playing the role of the lip vibrator, and slide mover, rather than simply the listener. I would have 6 days on 1 day off of practice. At the beginning of the week, I would feel great! My chops were great and life was good. I didn’t know that there were certain ways that I would push the trombone into my lips and damage them without me noticing. I have done that since middle school as I would always have a red ring on my lips after I played, due to bad technique. Slowly through my musical development, I would have different teachers that would range from great teachers that would change my life, to okay teachers. I will mention two teachers, Micheal Dease and Marshall Gilkes. Although I have only taken one lesson with each person, their ability to inspire is something else. My great teachers in my life have been Ginger/Saul Jacobson, Drummond Hudson, Jean Francois Faetuex, Neil Yorke Slader, Mark Ferguson, Terry Promane, William Carn, Geoff Young, and Steve Wallace. 

I would feel bad if I didn’t acknowledge these people, as they are all very active figures in my musical development. Ginger and Saul Jacobson instilled the love of music in me while I was in Broadview Public School. I started off on the tuba in Ginger's band, while I played the trombone in Saul's jazz band. Ginger told me that to get to the next step I need a music teacher, so I got in contact with Drummond (Drum) Hudson. He gave me the love of the trombone. He taught me about classical music and jazz music in this sort of “commercial” style of playing that is really common with older trombone players, as many people in his situation would be looking for theater gigs, playing with the military bands, big band gigs, etc. He was the person who put a trombone in my hands and taught me how to sharpen it to make a deadly musical sword. Next, Jean-Francois Featuex made me love the music community. Jean Francois Featueax is the nicest man on earth, who has a strong drive to create strong musicians. After all, he had Emily Denison, Daniel Ko, Evan Dalling, Robert Warnell, and so many other incredibly talented musicians passed his music class at Nepean High School. There is a lot I can say about this guy! Neil Yorke-Slader gave me a vision and purpose. He runs a youth all-star jazz band called the Nepean All-City Jazz Band. Neil just exposed me to the real world of music and convinced me that I could do anything I set my mind to. He accepted me and my lifelong friend, Evan Dalling, into the band while we were in grade 10 (being the youngest in the band), and I won’t forget it. Mark Ferguson simply instilled the love of Jazz. If it weren't for Mark, I would simply not be writing this blog, as he is the reason I am the musician I am today. Terry Promane. He taught me the love of composition. Although he in no way shaped me as a trombonist, and taught me no lessons in becoming a professional musician and how to act that way, he definitely fostered my love for composition. If it weren't for him, I wouldn’t have the ability to think about composition the way I do today. William Carn taught me the important lesson on humility. He showed me that it’s ok to not be perfect, and Will taught me so many great life lessons that I will always cherish. Geoff Young taught me the love of wisdom. This dude is just really smart. Finally, Steve Wallace taught me the love of the hang. I gotta say, seeing Steve's face on my laptop every Wednesday at 2pm makes my day, and he constantly motivates me to become a better trombonist, by just his sheer presence. I also just have to mention all of my friends that all still my friends, even when I act like an utter buffoon, they still are my friends, to which I owe my deepest gratitude. 

If you were my teacher and you don’t see your name on the list, don’t fret! All of these people had a really positive effect on my life, and have been a part of my life for a long time.

Back to the basement….