Jim Carrey, Mars, and What Coltrane Taught Me About Jazz.

So I started listening to John Coltrane. People always talk of music finding them sometimes, but I never really had experiences like that. I was always the initiator, finding new albums or artists and forcing myself to figure out what it is they are trying to say in their music.

Hopefully if I liked it I could begin implementing what I found into my own style.

Until a little less than two weeks ago I started watching this documentary called Jim & Andy in tandem with reading a book called The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury. Both were recommended by fellow musicians and one night I decided to give both a shot.

Jim & Andy focus’ on Jim Carrey’s method acting during the filming of Man on the Moon, a movie about Andy Kaufman’s career.

Growing up I loved Carrey, he’ll always remind me of the hours I would spend with my family laughing at movies like The Mask, Ace Ventura, and of course Dumb and Dumber. But even as a kid I knew something was different about his acting style and especially his movements. It was almost like a character within a character.

Everything Jim did he would become fully immersed in through his method acting. Rules would be broken because he wasn’t following himself, he was following the character. And I freaking loved that concept. Naturally I tried to view this type of acting through a musical standpoint. Unconventional, daring, self-challenging and one word that kept popping into my mind: jazz.

The Martian Chronicles had a similar vibe. While it is considered one cohesive story, it is split into vignettes that extrapolate on the shortcomings man would inevitably face colonizing Mars.

The premise Bradbury was trying to convey in my interpretation is that: despite our desire for greatness, our innate nature will always be our biggest opponent when stepping into the unknown, always finding new ways to compromise that mission. Examples being selfish ambition, greed, pride, unhealthy nostalgia, indifference & ignorance etc.

But as soon as we start acknowledging these flaws rather than becoming embarrassed or fearful of their presence one can mold them into a character that is 100% their own and something they have control of. Still the word kept echoing in my head after each page. Jazz.

Then I found The Doors.

I’ll never forget the first time I heard them. My uncle Dave was living with my family in Washington for a couple of weeks one summer and decided one day to take me to Target to get some new CDs for his truck. I stayed in the car and he came back with two records: Pink Floyd’s The Wall (thats another story), and The Doors’ greatest hits.

There was this picture of Jim Morrison shirtless holding out his hand in the front cover, long hair, staring at the camera. I remember looking at it thinking that this guy knew something that I didn’t, and all I cared about was trying to figure out what that secret was.

Dave put their record in first as we drove out of the parking lot. My eyes still glued to the cover, “Break On Through (To the Other Side)” started playing. 11 year old me lost his shit. I had never heard anything at the time that sounded so genuine.

Later on my uncle Doug (I guess the Doors are this cool uncle thing) surprised me after disappearing into a record shop with their self titled vinyl right before one of my first shows. Some songs don’t even play anymore because it was on my turntable nonstop. These past couple weeks I found them again, this time in their live records.

Morrison would get absolutely decimated on acid and pretty much everything else before taking the stage. Their Absolutely Live record and Live at the Bowl ’68 managed to capture some of their most powerful performances… and trips.

Each song they would play live had a purpose. Not just for the audience but for themselves. They would ebb and flow with the vibe at the time searching for the creative vein the song could take them through. Morrison would sing, scream, and recite his poetry over the cacophony behind him.

It didn’t sound selfish to me, he was searching for something on that stage, sometimes in himself, other times in the music. If a boundary was reached the automatic reaction was not to adhere to it and obey, but to push it out of the way because there was more to be found. I was starting to get it.

Finally to Coltrane.

Guys I just didn’t understand jazz, part of me still doesn’t. I tried to last year and failed. I wanted to figure it out and it frustrated me that I couldn’t, so I just gave up. I decided to just respect it from afar and say its not for me.

But that upset me too. I didn’t like the idea of an entire musical world that I just wrote off because I wasn't feeling it or that it was above my cognitive compacity.

There is so much to learn from every type of genre and I knew there was something special and spiritual about jazz that either I wasn’t ready for or Jesus was like “Yo sit tight cause this is gonna change the way you look at everything”.

Whether I’ve grown in my musical understanding to where its now enjoyable or, I prefer to think that I have come to a realization that the questions you ask in music are just as important as the answers that you may sometimes find.

I watched another documentary called Chasing Coltrane. I didn’t want to in all honesty, I just thought it would put me to sleep. I heard his name before of course, even a couple of songs. It just never caught my interest.

The movie started. This picture of the cosmos and his swirling saxophone in the background faded into focus. I still didn’t get it. But something about the personal story of Coltrane pulled me in.

Every emotion he had, every personal struggle found a way to be channeled through the notes that he played and compositions that he would write. Things started to sound more and more familiar as the documentary progressed, like music and other forms of art I have experienced before.

Then, John Densmore of the Doors appeared on screen.

The coincidence captured my full attention. He begins talking about the relationship that Coltrane and his drummer Elvin Jones had on stage directly inspired the parallel he had with Jim Morrison. Elvin and John would challenge each other. They knew that there was something to be found in music, not only for the sake of bettering art in general but to push their very beings to their full potential.

Coltrane started thinking about how art, science, and religion are all trying to answer the bigger questions of our existence. We shouldn’t try compartmentalize the answers we search for into easily mentally digestible boxes because the questions we should be asking are not easily answered.

Now don’t get me wrong, some jazz still sounds like somebody is blowing into a trumpet while a three year old pushes down the buttons for the first time. And personally I’m still growing to love different aspects of the genre. But heres where I’m at: this morning while driving on the I-10 I put on A Love Supreme. “Part II - Resolution” came on.

The melody hit me like a semi. It was confident in its questioning. It was unsure but at the same time comfortable with its own uncertainty. Instead of trying to hide, this the melody was put at the forefront and carried the song as it wandered with Coltrane, bringing along the audience on the same search with no promises of a destination.

Like I said I’m still trying to figure out why this type of music keeps finding its way into my life but I'm finding out that people shouldn't be afraid to ask the bigger questions in their art form, and of where doing so will take them.