{"id":1502,"date":"2020-08-11T00:00:00","date_gmt":"2020-08-11T05:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/postgenre.org\/staging\/4567\/?p=1502"},"modified":"2020-08-13T13:22:43","modified_gmt":"2020-08-13T18:22:43","slug":"columns-haas-way-in","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/postgenre.org\/staging\/4567\/columns-haas-way-in\/","title":{"rendered":"Jazz from A to G: The Way In"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Early on, listening to Led Zeppelin or Jimi Hendrix, jazz was something in another yard, walled-off, and separated from what I was listening to on the radio.  It was an idea<\/em>–segregated by race, primarily, and from behind that wall, everything else in the music stayed hidden.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So when I listened to traditional New Orleans jazz, like The Preservation Hall Jazz Band, it was listening to jazz <\/em>as a distinct form. I didn\u2019t see the connection that exists between that<\/em> music and what was on the airwaves.  Similarly, my girlfriend at the time tried to introduce me to the tunes of her Black household: Sarah Vaughan, Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Corny, I thought.  My ears must have been stuffed with white cotton.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The crossover moment came with, \u201cNubian Sundance,\u201d by Weather Report (Mysterious Traveller<\/em> (Legacy, 1974)), a band that featured Joe Zawinul and Wayne Shorter.  It was modern and rhythmic, urgent and easy to embrace.  The implicit politics of the song, with the crowd roaring, suggested that soon enough the old would be seen for what it was: Outdated.<\/p>\n\n\n

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