by Paul Klemperer

Jazz is a service industry. I've come to this conclusion after years and years of playing low-paying jazz gigs with incredible musicians, men and women who have invested thousands of hours into practicing their instruments, learning songs, learning the history of the music and becoming part of that history. If you averaged it out, I'm sure over 90% of jazz musicians make a lifetime income of less than $1 per hour. So we're obviously not in it for the money. We work in service to the music. The question then is, what service does this music provide? Is it just a magnificent obsession, like those artists in America's heartland struggling to create the world's largest ball of twine? Or does the music play a vital part in today's world?

There's no doubt that jazz was the most influential music of the 20th century.

But through decades of stylistic branching, the term "jazz" has become less and less specific, so that now we have many musical styles that are "jazz-influenced," from salsa to klezmer, from rap to top-40. The musical innovations and creative vitality of countless anonymous jazz practitioners have become embedded in most contemporary musical styles. Sometimes it's obvious, as in the jazz harmonies of salsa horn sections. Sometimes you have to dig to find it, as in the watered-down polyrhythms of the latest teen dance hit. But the jazz is in there.

Most jazz musicians face a professional choice. If they want to make a living through performance, they generally have to find a niche in one of those jazz-influenced commercial genres, playing horn parts, obsequious fills and the occasional 8-bar solo. They take $30-$50 jazz gigs when they have time in order to play all those cool licks they've been practicing in their monastic music rooms for hours on end. The most proficient among the army of jazzers get lucrative concert gigs and recording sessions. But the employment pyramid is mighty steep, and most jazz players are grunts, not generals.

The common alternative paycheck is through teaching: private lessons, jazz combos, middle and high school bands and university jazz programs for those with Doctorates. Sometimes they get to teach a jazz history class. Sometimes they get to write educational articles. And there are many, many players who become full-time teachers. Their playing gets a little rusty. They are not as lean and hungry as the jazz cats stalking the paying gig circuit. But in some ways they provide a more real service to the public and to jazz in general: they show the way to the next generation of players.

Which brings me to my main point: what kind of service does jazz provide? If art is a lofty goal that needs no justification, then the pursuit of musical perfection is its own reward. But is that really the ultimate purpose of jazz? It's true that those dedicated artists who perfect their technique, who master the voluminous lexicon of jazz scales, patterns, substitute harmonies and so on, raise the bar for all of us and show us the deeper possibilities of the music.

But it's also true that the dogmatic pursuit of musical perfection has served to isolate jazz more and more from mainstream audiences, to intimidate musicians from other genres and to reinforce social stratification through musical elitism. This is a glaring contradiction in contemporary jazz, which seems to work against the widely accepted belief that jazz is about democracy, freedom, discovery and collective expression. When these tenets become apologies for snobbery and showiness, something's amiss; jazz ceases to serve the greater good. For a music that traces its origins to the African American struggle for cultural survival, this is a heavy irony indeed.

I don't think there's a simple explanation or solution to this contradiction. Generally, I believe that jazz is a mirror of the human psyche, which itself has contradictions in abundance. But I do think it helps to look at the service jazz provides in a wider context than just musical performance. Look at the classrooms, at the lessons being taught, at how instruction in jazz helps expand the way students think about life as well as music. Look at the global networking that jazz fosters, through academic institutions, jazz societies, festivals, workshops and multi-media events. Look at the biographical and social history encapsulated in the music, the legendary players who came from diverse geographical, class and racial backgrounds to create, over time, a collective musical voice.

Ultimately, the strongest participants in jazz culture are not necessarily the flashiest players, but the most inclusive and culturally creative people. Jazz tradition is not just about the sounds, but about the lives of real people and the communities they create. That's where the music comes from, and that is who and what the music serves.