Philip Larkin's Jazz

The poet Philip Larkin was also jazz critic for the Daily Telegraph from 1961 to 1971. His often acerbic comments were reproduced in book form, title “All What Jazz,” a handy dip-into sort of historical guide to contemporary music, or jazz at least.

Almost 50 years ago, he wrote:

“My favourite New Year’s resolution is Cyril Connolly’s for 1929: ‘Resolve: to be altogether more advanced and intelligent.’ And clearly, according to Leonard Feather in the Melody Maker, I’m going to need to be. Of course jazz is not dying, he says, unless by jazz you mean swinging jazz, Dixieland jazz, or anything in straight two or four. Of course, that’s on the way out, and still more American jazz clubs will collapse. But anything in Latin, or Cuban, or 5/4 rhythm, any freedom music ‘in which the beat is often suspended. Distended or ignored at certain points’ anything with electric or electronic sounds, anything ethnic or with sitars – why, man, the scene is made. By a subtle stroke of page make-up, this cheer-leader is printed shoulder-to-shoulder with an article recalling the deaths in 1967 of Edmond Hall, Muggsy Spanier, Willie Smith, Buster Bailey, Herman Chittison, Pete Johnson, Red Allen, Billy Strayhorn, Rex Stewart, Sidney de Paris, Stuff Smith, Jimmy Archer and one or two more.”

What an annus horribilis 1967 must have been  (my words). Larkin continues:

“Readers of this column may rest assured that as long as there is any swinging or Dixieland jazz in straight two or four on recent records they will hear about it. The rest will be judged by the degree to which it approximates to the excitement produced by the aforesaid swinging or Dixieland jazz.”

A quote from the frontispiece of “All What Jazz” is from Miles Davis, and was originally published in Down Beat on 13^th June 1968:

“But if something (i.e. Ornette Coleman) sounds terrible, man, a person should have enough respect for his own mind to say it doesn’t sound good. It doesn’t to me, and I’m not going to listen to it. No matter how long you listen to it, it doesn’t sound any good.”

Larkin was renowned for his love of ‘traditional’ jazz, Dixieland and New Orleans and was often critical of the avante garde. In the introduction to my 1984 edition of his book, he writes:

“In any case, my views haven’t changed. If Charlie Parker seems a less filthy racket today than he did in 1950 it is only because, as I point out, much filthier rackets succeeded him…”

These words sound iconoclastic in 2017. Yet I find myself sympathising. Jazz these days appears to be anything a musician wants it to be. Take any rhythm, beat or melody and add the word “jazz” and – voila! – it is jazz. No it isn’t. It’s not jazz. Maybe it’s smooth-jazz, for example, but that’s not jazz. We need a champion of jazz; we need somebody to ride to the rescue to take it away from the floss and dross being passed off today as jazz and thereby restore its authentic gloss and substance.

These comments could appear contradictory. After all, as you’ve probably noticed I’m a huge fan of Charles Mingus, undeniably one of the most innovative and exciting musicians of all time, sometimes testing the tolerance of audiences to the very limits with his avante-garde ideas and compositions, but even he said that his music should not be shoved into one of the pigeon-holes of categorisation. Just call it Mingus music, he said. That’s sweet subtle irony… one of the greatest jazz-men of all time calling for his own music to be stripped of the title “jazz.” But he understood. I think many don’t understand these days. If Philip Larkin were alive today, I’d be writing him letters of support.