Friday, July 9, 2010

The Beauty of Improvisation

So much energy is put into wondering what a band will present at a live gathering. What if they don't play my favorite songs off my favorite records? What if the guitars are overpowered by the monitors? Will I still enjoy their music tomorrow?


When the common individual goes to a show they want to hear their bands play the songs they love the same way they hear them on the radio -- see if they can really sound that good in person, if they can really be as attractive as on record. There's such redundancy in this expectation: hearing a band play their same ol' studio track is the same as putting the record on at home, the only added difference is the visual experience with unfamiliar acoustics. If one craves this added sense, is it inviable to just look their act up on youtube instead of spending more bones than you should have on the ticket, having your anatomy studied at security, buying a $9 beer, and rubbing your feet the next day?

All I want to see when I experience a band live for the first time is complete and utter indifference from their records. I'll want the guitars to be muddier or cleaner. I'll crave hearing them play a cover of an old country tune. What? Surprise 10 minute jam on a 3 minute song? I'll take it. It'd be great if the musicians switched around their positions and played each others' parts. I want their performance to sound like anything but what I hear at home.


Improvisation is a thing of beauty in the music world. There are only a select few in history who could really display such a feature of understanding within their instrumentation. If I knew a guy who claimed to be able to recite the Heartbreaker solo note for note, it would be an achievement, sure. What if I knew another guy who created his own solo with his own actions? This would hold an immense amount of originality and talent -- no one would have ever heard his version before. All that I could give the note-for-note guy is a high five, "good job." I'm sure he'd be aware that approximately five thousand people can also perform his exact showcase. The latter guy's approximation would be closer to zero. This is the element of beauty within improvisation; there never has or will be anything that sounds quite like it again.


Here are a few examples of great live acts:



Johnny Cash... uptempo... electric?


Oh, wait, they had to have planned this one out backstage.



Is this musical legitimacy a thing of the past? Are trios from Sweden who plug their banjos into raspy amps and distort the fretboard for hours and Allman Brothers look-alikes the only acts left for modern improvisation lovers like me?