by Paul Klemperer

Jazz has always worn at least two hats: it is popular commercial music but at the same time it is improvisational art music. The umbrella term "jazz" has been stretched thin to include many types of commercial music, resulting in a persistent backlash by jazz purists against genres like "smooth jazz," "new age," "fusion," "lounge," and so on.

The easy logic dictates that jazz loses its integrity when it becomes too commercial, when it subjugates artistic freedom to popular acceptance. However, this is a simplistic equation which does not accurately describe the complex history of the music. Jazz artists have always worked within the constraints of commercial music. One can trace the tradition directly back to the minstrel show, where black performers negotiated the peculiar tastes of a White America which simultaneously idealized and demonized African American culture.

Historically, jazz artists who could successfully communicate the vitality of their art within commercial settings were able to build up enough support that their unique artistic expression transcended the limits of popular music. Artists like Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington succeeded in this way, and made it possible for later generations of jazz players to think of themselves as artists and not merely entertainers.

But jazz still has one foot firmly planted in the world of commercial music. This is partly because of the economics of the music business. As much as educational and cultural institutions support and promote jazz, most jazz players must struggle in the musical marketplace to survive. But it is also partly due to the nature of the music. Jazz involves a symbiotic relationship between the performers and their audience. This audience is a mixture of musically educated and ordinary listeners. When the scene gets too rarified, when overly polite and attentive listeners hang on the notes of overly studied and careful players, the music tends to get a little anemic. By contrast, some of the hottest jazz is played in noisy dives to intoxicated, rowdy patrons.

In my experience as a jazz musician, I've found three general scenarios for jazz as commercial music:

1) Background music, such as the obligatory cocktail party replete with networking professionals and polite bossa novas.

2) Jazz fills, in which the player injects short jazz "stylings" into predominantly non-jazz songs as a sort of musical cake frosting.

3) Dance music, in which jazz is layered on top of and to some extent constrained by the standardized rhythms and structure of the music.

Of these three scenarios I've found that dance music actually offers the most room for musical innovation and inspiration (with the possible exception of cocktail parties where the liquor is free and the neckties are loosened). Of course every jazz player dreams of the showcase gig, a night at the Village Vanguard or, more realistically, a night at Austin's own Elephant Room. But the jazz gigs just don't pay the rent. If you're lucky, you can find steady work playing dance music that incorporates jazz improvisation in it.

Currently there are three such types of dance music favored in the clubs: swing, Latin, and acid/funk jazz. As with any trend, there are highs and lows. There are dedicated musicians striving to further their art, and newcomers just jumping on the bandwagon (hopefully they will evolve into dedicated musicians). There are clubowners who seriously want to promote good music, and their are opportunists who latch onto the fad du jour while pinching as many pennies as possible. There are music lovers who appreciate the traditions which local musicians are trying to uphold, and there are musical tourists whose tastes are mediated by MTV and Spin magazine. It's all part of the mix. Through it all, jazz musicians try to advance their art, hone their craft, develop their ideas.

The audience often votes with its feet, meaning people gravitate to music that moves them, and in particular that they can dance to. In the hipper situations both things happen: the music moves you physically with its rhythm, but it also moves you spiritually, connecting you to that essential inspirational energy. Both the musicians and the audience can feel those moments and they create a particularly satisfying musical space, when collective effort joins with individual genius, and the groove encompasses conscious and unconscious expression.

This is what I look for in live dance music, and what makes it exponentially more satisfying than canned dance music. This is the challenge for improvisational players who work within the medium of dance music, for when they can infuse the songs with that spontaneous inspirational energy, the audience will respond in kind. In those moments, we transcend the boundaries of commercial and art music and reach that state, fleeting as it may be, of a real music community.