So, people sometimes ask me how I ended up making that ‘jazz injury report’. It sounds all official, doesn’t it? But honestly, it was just me, trying to figure things out after a bit of a musical mess. It wasn’t for a magazine or anything, just my own little project, born out of sheer bewilderment, you could say.
The Spark (or rather, the fizzle)
It all kicked off when I got this grand idea to reunite my old college jazz group. You know, the ‘Groove Diggers’ – okay, maybe we weren’t that famous, but we had some good times and I thought, why not try again? I was feeling pretty optimistic. I started by calling everyone, all hyped up, thinking we’d just slot back into our old groove. I even went ahead and found a decent, cheap rehearsal spot I knew from way back, thinking I was being super proactive.
Well, that optimism didn’t last long. That’s when the so-called ‘injuries’ started to pop up, one after the other. It wasn’t like a sudden, dramatic implosion; more like watching a tire slowly deflate until the whole thing was just flat and useless. We never even got to that first rehearsal.
Compiling the ‘Damage’ – My Process
So, there I was, stuck with a booked room, a few new charts I’d excitedly sketched out, and absolutely no band. Pretty frustrating, right? Instead of just stewing in it, I decided, almost on a whim, to document what happened. I grabbed an old notebook, and that’s how my very unofficial ‘jazz injury report’ came to be. My method was pretty simple, nothing scientific, mind you:
- First, I listed out all the ‘key players’ who were supposed to be part of this grand reunion. I used initials, mostly, to keep it a bit detached, even for my own eyes.
- Then, next to each initial, I jotted down the ‘reason’ they gave for not being able to make it, or in some cases, the reason I suspected. I called this section ‘Reported Ailment’.
- I really tried to just stick to the facts as they were presented to me, but I gotta admit, a little bit of my own interpretation might have colored the descriptions. It’s hard not to when you’re the one left holding the bag.
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The list of ‘ailments’ was, let’s say, quite varied and, in hindsight, a bit comical:
- Player J (Saxophone): Suddenly remembered a ‘long-standing, recurring wrist issue’ that apparently only flared up when a commitment was needed. Funny how that works.
- Player M (Drums): Claimed his ‘vintage kit was too temperamental for new projects’ and needed ‘special handling’ he couldn’t guarantee. Right.
- Player S (Bass): Ah, the classic fade-out. Initial enthusiasm followed by increasingly vague replies, then just… complete radio silence. That one’s always a bit of a downer.
- And then there was Player T (Piano): Actually showed up for one initial coffee to talk about it, seemed super keen, full of ideas, then sent a text a week later saying he felt ‘our creative energies weren’t aligned’. We hadn’t even played a single note together yet! How do you know that from one coffee?
What I Figured Out From This Little Exercise
Writing it all down, it wasn’t really about pointing fingers or feeling sorry for myself (okay, maybe a little bit of the latter). It was more about trying to see if there was a pattern, some lesson to be learned. And I think there was. It’s rarely one massive disaster that scuppers these kinds of creative get-togethers, especially in music with friends. It’s usually an accumulation of small things, little ‘paper cut’ injuries.
Maybe it’s a lack of totally honest communication, or perhaps everyone’s on a different page about how much effort they want to put in. Or sometimes, you know, people just grow in different directions and don’t quite know how to say, ‘Hey, this isn’t for me anymore’.
This whole ‘report’ business was just my peculiar way of doing a post-mortem. I never showed it to anyone; it’s still just scribbled in that notebook. But it kind of helped me make peace with it. It made me realize that these ‘injuries’ – these small letdowns and miscommunications – they’re part of the deal when you try to create something with other people. It’s not always some big dramatic bust-up; sometimes, things just fizzle out because of a series of tiny neglects or unspoken issues.
I learned something, though. If I ever try to rally the troops for another musical adventure, I’m going to be way clearer from the get-go. About what’s expected, about commitment levels, about just plain showing up. It’s like, you wouldn’t expect a sports team to win if half the players kept calling in sick with flimsy excuses, would you? I guess it’s the same for a band. My ‘jazz injury report’ was just my personal, slightly weird way of understanding why this particular ‘team’ never even made it to the practice field. And you know what? It helped me decide to look for new musicians, folks who were genuinely ready and ‘fit to play’, as they say.
