Jon Challoner, the trumpet player in my band, told me he recently cleaned out his trumpet, and what came out was “ungodly.” And as any responsible bandleader would do upon hearing this, I cut his pay. Not because his horn was in a disgusting condition, but because he chose to clean it. This leads to an important facet of jazz culture which is worthy of discussion. The more astute of you may have noticed something different about jazz musicians when compared to other genres: that our instruments are—and there’s no point beating around the bush here—old and crappy.
If one were to judge us by the appearance of our instruments, one may conclude that jazz musos are a cheap, negligent class of people with little regard for personal hygiene. That is accurate. But if you look a little deeper, you’ll find it’s in these old beaten up instruments that we can find that magic unquantifiable ingredient that is our jazz sound.
