Some musicians that I work with have heard me talk about (what I semi-jokingly characterize as) my PTSD. I'm not sure how much (or even if) I've referenced it in this journal blog, however. It's not necessarily a common occurrence, having a specific trigger that takes me back to another time; when I was different, and the (jazz) world was different. I also have a bit of an internally complicated relationship with the term jazz, which is not unrelated to all this, I'm sure. When this (PTSD) hits, it's fair to say that I come off as less than confident, and far more off center than is warranted or necessary, perhaps even to the point of undermining myself. And I came to realize, in conversation with Scott Robinson (my First Friday series guest at the Mainstay back in April) that the wheels can kind of come off the bus, from the vantage point of someone on the outside, looking in. To avoid taking this into the weeds (or perhaps, clouds) I'll simply characterize it as slipping into an extreme glass half empty mindset, obsessing over a specific (perceived) deficit, blinding myself to the larger context (obvious to everyone but me), in that moment. And I know better. Or at least I should. 

 

To come up as a young, traditionally-minded jazz-influenced musician in the 1970's was to, at times, be the subject of ridicule from those who considered it un-hip, or not sufficiently sophisticated, or just not jazz at all. I can encapsulate it in one incident back in my high school years when I was told, by someone in a authority position, that my attempt at a particular jazz solo was "the most ridiculous thing that (he'd) ever heard (because my references were too traditional)"  Now, 50 years later, the jazz world has matured somewhat, and there is less tribalism (though it still exists). Voices like Wynton Marsalis, who ascribe legitimacy to all stages of jazz development/evolution, are much more prevalent and heard. Back (and especially) in the 1970s, the condescension of the "hipper then thou" crowd, toward those who did not have "modern" jazz sensibilities, could be brutal. Of course, the inevitable outcome of this was for many in the traditional jazz community to return the condescension. It became complicated and confusing for me. I knew who I wasn't (or thought I did, based on the condescension of others who were telling me so), but wasn't really sure who I was. I knew who I wanted to be (or thought I did ...), except that the wanting was borne out of a false construct, thinking that I needed to attain the proper relationship to the jazz vocabulary to be worthy of being called a jazz musician. It's one of many examples where I can look back over my life and see myself stuck in my own head; and doing myself no favors. 

When one is stuck in their own head, it's difficult to see outside your head. Which is the last place you want to be if your objective is to play/live from your heart. Apparently, I still need to be reminded, on occasion, not to do that. In fact, all I really need to do is just step aside, out of my own way. And my conversation with Scott before that show was the perfect nudge, allowing me not to short change the opportunity to enjoy an evening of solid connection and sincere rapport. Thanks, Scott!   :).