Lips of Iron
January 28th, 2010Musical Stuff Dribbles In
My cornet mouthpiece arrived last night. I started making heinous noises with it almost immediately.
My dad advised me to get the mouthpiece before the horn, and I did so, but only by a day. He says there is no point in touching the horn until I get my embouchure working on the mouthpiece.
How many people here think I’ll be able to leave the horn in the case that long?
Right. That’s what I figured.
I have a Hal Leonard trumpet DVD. The guy in the video says that in order to play the trumpet, you have to smile and pucker at the same time.
Try this. Seriously. It can’t be done. I’m not even sure what it means. Puckering moves the lips out. Smiling pulls them back. In my universe, back is not out.
I know he’s right. Whatever he’s trying to say. But I’m not sure he’s saying what he wants to.
I got my dad to help me out with the mouthpiece. He said I did fine. I thought I sounded like a boiler accident. And I nearly fainted. How are you supposed to stay concious while you’re blowing air as hard as you can? No wonder Gillespie was Dizzy.
My dad reluctantly informed me that he had been wrong about spitting in the valves. He says he learned that these days, the oil they make for valves actually works. Much better than the tar and molasses mixture they sold back in his day, I guess. I have two kinds of oil: Alysin and Five Starr. I’ll let him use it, if he promises not to get spit in it.
I watched Jazz again last night. It’s getting up to the Gillespie/Parker era now, or as I like to call it, “The Death of Fun Jazz.” Before these guys came along, it was possible for a person without a Ph.D. to enjoy listening to jazz. Afterward, not so much. As plummeting concert attendance and record sales show. Go on Youtube and find a video of Gillespie singing “Salt Peanuts,” if you want to see why jazz died.
It may be the most fulfilling thing an intelligent musician can possibly play, but who can listen to it? It reminds me of bluegrass. I loved playing it, but I couldn’t make myself listen to other people playing it.
I found a Salt Peanuts Youtube. Don’t click on it. I warned you.
It’s so bad, I’d rather listen to Edie Brickell.
I guess Gillespie was on cloud nine while they played that. Go figure. It reminds me of the Albert Brooks movie, Defending Your Life. He was represented at his heavenly trial by Rip Torn, a being so smart ordinary humans couldn’t understand him. When he missed a day of court, he told Brooks his excuse: “I was trapped near the intercircle of fault.”
They probably play Salt Peanuts there.
My trumpet book features the much-beloved hit “Go Tell Aunt Rhodie.” Can’t hardly wait to learn that. I remember hearing it in my childhood, when my aunt and my sister used to bang on my grandmother’s Acrosonic spinet. The big hits were Aunt Rhodie and Shortenin’ Bread. Somehow they never got picked up by a label.
Hope this works out. If not, shiny wall decoration.
January 28th, 2010 at 11:34 AM
I haven’t heard the smile embouchure recommended since the 50s. Put your upper and lower teeth even, drop your jaw a little, pull the corners of your mouth in a little, and buzz the mouthpiece. Use your piano and try to match the pitch of various notes. Your Dad’s right – you need to learn to buzz the mouthpiece. But you won’t have any fun until you’re diddling on the horn.
January 28th, 2010 at 12:22 PM
Slapping Dizzy Gillespie for his singing voice is like criticizing Phil Mickelson because he can’t make a decent Sicilian pizza.
He couldn’t sing fer crap… but man, could he blow that horn. Listen to “A Night in Tunisia” or “Siboney.” Magic.
I, too, have got a cornet… and I’m not afraid to use it. Well, maybe a little.
January 28th, 2010 at 12:44 PM
Dizzy was every junior high school band director’s nightmare, because in spite of his technical ability he did everything wrong according to trumpet playing dogma. He ended up dieing with cheeks twice the size of his head from puffing them up, and he played with his head tilted downward thus his use of trumpets modified with the bell leaning up at a 45 degree angle. I think of his performance of “Salt Peanuts” on the trumpet like much of John Popper’s work on the Harmonica…so many notes crammed together in such a short period of time it’s more distressing than impressing. Know what I mean?
January 28th, 2010 at 12:47 PM
My guess one major reason that the video sucked is that the audio was dubbed ( and poorly at that ). If you look closely, you can see that places where Dizzy is breathing, the music continues and vice versa.
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Try to find some Maynard Ferguson. If you want to find a major screamer, he’s your guy. Old Stan Kenton guy.
January 28th, 2010 at 12:52 PM
I forgot to reiterate the words…”Clarke Technical Studies.” It worked 36 years ago and it’s still a good method today I believe.
January 28th, 2010 at 1:33 PM
“I loved playing it, but I couldn’t make myself listen to other people playing it”
Yeah, be glad you don’t live in THE BLUEGRASS STATE, because we are overloaded with it. You can not go to any kind of festival or gathering that someone isn’t whining and squalling out their own version of it. It’s torture!!!
January 28th, 2010 at 2:23 PM
He must have meant “press together” when he said “pucker.” Pulling the lips back and pressing them together is the way I would describe it.
January 28th, 2010 at 3:47 PM
I’m mentally ill enough to like it.
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Jazz stopped being dance music. That’s why it’s faded. That’s why Prog Rock is pretty much dead too.
January 28th, 2010 at 3:51 PM
“Slapping Dizzy Gillespie for his singing voice is like criticizing Phil Mickelson because he can’t make a decent Sicilian pizza.”
.
Perhaps you’re right. Who criticized Gillespie’s singing voice?
January 28th, 2010 at 3:52 PM
“Jazz stopped being dance music. That’s why it’s faded.”
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It faded because it ceased to be beautiful or even catchy. Lots of very popular music is not dance music.
January 28th, 2010 at 6:40 PM
“Try to find some Maynard Ferguson. If you want to find a major screamer, he’s your guy.”
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Not really my style.
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Funny story. Maynard Ferguson is one of my dad’s idols. Years ago, I took him to a local place where Ferguson was playing. During the break, I felt someone behind me bump into me. I turned in my chair, and it was Maynard Ferguson. He offered his hand and said he was glad to see me there that night, or something like that, and I shook his hand, and he wandered off. My dad and my date were also at my table. I turned and said, “How about THAT?” And my dad said, “How about what?”
.
They didn’t even see the man.
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Now I enjoy reminding my dad of that evening.
January 28th, 2010 at 8:27 PM
This is the soundtrack for my morning coffee.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rt2xdXswEms
William Shatner doing interpretive dance would make this video complete.
Maynard was indeed a stunt trumpeter, but I loved him all the same.
January 28th, 2010 at 8:40 PM
When you get beyond the beginner stage, you can torture yourself, as most brass teachers do their students, with Arbans.
http://www.amazon.com/Complete-Conservatory-Trumpet-Baritone-Euphonium/dp/0825803853
Torture is the path to excellence.
January 29th, 2010 at 12:00 AM
Heh (as the saying goes). The equivalent of Gillespie in rock is Grace Slick. I can hear the talent, the tremendous gift in there, and it still feels like driving nails into my head, and all I can do is wonder why she couldn’t have used it to make something pretty.
It seems a common affliction of highly talented musicians. They come up with some (usually ugly) phrase, then repeat it and repeat it and repeat it, each time making some change audible only to themselves, the three people in the world with perfect hearing, and/or an HP spectrum analyzer. People swoon. Me, I hunt for the nearest C&W jukebox and start digging for coins to feed it.
I’m a plebian. Sue me.
Regards,
Ric
January 30th, 2010 at 12:25 AM
Haven’t thought of Grace in years! Talented? Hm. I guess she was.
January 30th, 2010 at 4:02 PM
Could be chicken and egg (Although I know a lot of beautiful jazz that came after your arbitrary line) but the opinion I gave has some scholarship behind it.
January 30th, 2010 at 4:24 PM
Like global warming.