may 2003

The Jazz Police

Tim Jensen, breaking up Portland's Jazz scene with his latest album

by d.also

Last month, Miguel Artuge introduced me to Tim Jensen, local jazz musician and recording artist. I expected to hear the same intro/solo/bridge/solo format that contemporary jazz is known for. What I heard sounded more like Ornette Coleman in a bad mood. It was a collection of sounds more inspired by the 50's and 60's experimental underground than the current fad of easy-listening, marketable jazz that permeates the airwaves.
Born in Detroit, Tim grew up in a family dominated by his mother's schizophrenia. His parents died when he was in his early 20's, and Tim moved to New York to be a professional musician. He spent 10 years traveling with all of the biggest Broadway musicals: Phantom of the Opera, Les Miserables, etc, etc. During that time he continued to write his own material, and would use his vacations to record what he had come up with on the road.
When he grew tired of the commercial music industry, he moved to Portland and slowed down dramatically. Now he gigs with the rest of our local jazz talent while recording and printing his own albums. From writing to manufacturing, he does all of his work here.
Through the first couple of listens, his music sounded like an intellectual's stand-up routine. His phrasing, melodies, and self-proclaimed "anti-transitions" are so clever that I found myself laughing at their audacity. The second track on his self-titled, 2001 album is called C-Section; simply enough, a reference to the third section of the song. In the background you hear the musicians shout out phrases like, "The television set is watching you!", "The coffee pot is bugged!" and, "Are you my father?" I asked him to tell me about the piece.


The improvisation in the middle is a free improvisation, and I gave each member of the band a line to say. These statements were statements that my mother made as a result of her illness. To me it's a very serious piece. But to the listener it might sound zany or more like a slapstick piece. In fact one reviewer did mention that—it was slapstick. I kind of liked that...the idea that it was very serious to me, but to the listener it might appear another way.

What was it like growing up with that?

Well, it's very confusing, and the piece reflects that. That's the pretty obvious thing: it's panicky, there's a lot of cacophony. Also, I grew up in Detroit, and we had a riot in '67. So I think that had a big influence as to why a lot of my music starts going crazy in a certain way. It's almost like a riot in itself. In the first piece, Ransom Captive Emmanuel, it starts off with a form, but at one point in the form, the instruments start improvising freely. I think that's affected by being in a riot and watching your world—all the rules and everything fall apart.

Writing C-Section must have been very difficult. Did it feel like you were pulling it out of you?

Yeah, actually, it evolved in different pieces. I was always attracted to the free jazz, kind of because of free rock, and just letting players go nuts. So there's that aspect to it. I always like doing that kind of thing. With the different players you have a different experience every time. I didn't do the word thing until I had been playing this piece since the '80s, in different configurations with different players. So finally I decided to add the word element into it. Because I wrote it when my mom was alive and she was sick, so it has that—everything is going down the drain and life is very confusing. So the final thing was to just put her words on top of it...That only somebody who has mental illness would say, I guess.

Do you ever worry that people take it as if you're saying it, and that it's a reflection of your own madness?

Yeah, I think any time somebody in your family has mental illness, you worry that you're going to inherit it. But they are my words because I experienced it when she said them, so in a way it is kind of part of me.

In your writing, do you intentionally look for the humor, or does that come out afterward?

I guess it comes out afterward, because I was pretty serious about all the pieces. Maybe just my style of writing phrases appears a little quirky. So that might appear a little humorous. And it may be related to some of the players I like. I mean, I like Sonny Rollins a lot and he was always considered humorous. People found a humorous element in his playing. But a lot of the subjects were serious.
Each piece has really a different approach. I'm a very slow writer. I write in private. Over time I've developed my own arranging style. So I think what I like about the album is my personal arranging style comes through on this. I've met the players on the record in time, and I have a personal relationship with all of them. It's just not a pickup band like a lot of jazz groups are. I chose the players for a specific reason. I try to allow each player space...but I'm using different techniques of improvisation that aren't really new, but they aren't used anymore. It seems that nowadays jazz has become the quartet setting where you play the melody and play the solos. So, a lot of what my record is about is using techniques that were used in the late 50s and the 60s and even by Duke Ellington—but because of marketing and the way players now want to fit into a market, all these techniques have seemed to be abandoned except in the educational world. So in the "real" world...the world of playing gigs, these techniques aren't used that often because no one can sell their music to a record company and they don't fit into the settings where jazz is played anymore. This kind of leads me to what I like about Portland, more than any other city I've been in, there's a scene for people who want to play freer music. Unfortunately, most of the gigs are free. They're free and they're free.

Do you find it hard to find musicians who share your passion for music?

Not so much in Portland. [In '91] I moved to New York with no aspirations to be an artist at all. I moved there to play commercial type of music and make a living. And once I did get there...I looked around and I didn't like the people who were doing what I was doing. I didn't want to end up like them. And I had remembered Portland was a place I really liked. So I started talking about that with my wife, and it turns out that she wanted to try the Northwest, too. I just never liked living in New York for a lot of reasons.
But maybe it would have been different if I was approaching it from a creative point of view. I was just going there because it was the place you do commercial music…Now I've come to a point where I'm awakening again, and even considering artistic considerations.

What's the difference that you see between a young person interested in jazz and a folk or rock artist, who might have an easier time being marketable?

Well, I find with jazz—there's such a pressure to have your playing sound "right," so many people succumb to this pressure. There's this whole school of copying solos and learning the heritage and being able to play like this player and being able to show that you can play like this player and play like this player. And it really stifles the person's own creativity. You know, where do you draw the line between being accepted by the jazz community and all the historians and the educators and when do you start having the confidence to develop your own thing? This really bothers me about jazz. One of the things I like about rock music is that rock musicians aren't so afraid of sounding "right"—sounding "correct." People do their own thing, and since jazz has become so prevalent in the education system, there's really a heavy pressure to "sound right." The guy who sounds right, every body likes him. And it's just how our whole society seems to be. You know. "Have this point of view because it's marketable," or "If you sound this way people will like you." I think a lot of freedom has gone out of jazz. There's a real pressure to sound like Charlie Parker.

But how did that happen? For 60 years jazz was topping the charts. Every 5 to 10 years it was completely reinventing itself and now it seems to have become really rigid. You can't push the boundaries of jazz or else the crowd-

The jazz police

-won't believe that you're playing jazz any longer.

Right. I think it moved so fast in the 60s with free jazz coming in. And the marketing people are partially responsible for it. It's become a very conservative music. [Charley Parker] was doing something that was different and he wasn't accepted at first. So it is the opposite of what's happening now...I think he had his vision and a lot of people fought it. Just like when John Coltrane came in, people were calling it noise. And then eventually the mainstream accepts it—but only certain periods of John Coltrane. Still the later periods are "Uh, we won't go there."

See but that's interesting because, it's very difficult to listen to, just as a layman music appreciator. But I would never say that it's not jazz. Maybe because it's difficult it fits in more with what jazz is supposed to be about. But if you were to do that now-

There are these jazz camps. One likes to think of jazz as being a very free and creative music but people who get in their camp are very rigid. It's like tribalism. "We are the different factions and people who don't accept other types of music and don't want to play it." People who are into swing, a lot of times they are very reticent about even getting into even later 50s style jazz. And the people who are playing more free, they don't want anything to do with other periods either. Not to make the whole thing sound like a big fight, but...I want to be able to play any style of jazz that I want to at any time.

What do you think the last shift, or growth in jazz was, before people started divvying up the sections.

Probably with the rock/jazz fusion thing. The fact that the rock component was brought into it, it brought in the marketing. Because of this jazz/rock crossover...people saw the possibility of marketing jazz in the same way rock was marketed: mass audiences and selling a lot records.

Wasn't it marketed like that before fusion?

Not to the level of selling huge numbers of records. One of the things I like in the fifties is artists were recorded constantly and they had a chance to develop in recording music. There were like, I don't know, 50 Coltrane sessions from 1956 to 58. The record label seemed more interested in documenting the music in almost a folk-type approach, as opposed to thinking, "Ok, we'll have a polished record and sell 80,000 copies of this." The record label documented the artist and they all played on each other's recordings.

So then, here you are recording an album, and obviously you're not going to have the wherewithal to document everything you're doing.

Yeah. What appeals to me is playing jazz in a live setting. There are no overdubs on this record. It's all live. So I had to have players who were really competent: really good readers and able to look at my music and make an interpretation without a lot of rehearsal—without any rehearsal.

How long did it take you to record it?

I recorded in two 4 hour sessions…They never saw the music before. I saw the music a lot, because I wrote it.

How much freedom did you give the other players?

A lot of freedom. You know, that's why I chose the guys I did. Randy Porter is the pianist, and basically, he's such a good musician that I give him the chords and some melodies when I need the piano to play a melody—but I know his playing and I'm familiar with him. There's 20 other really great jazz piano players in Portland but for my music, he was the guy I wanted because he can go in so many directions. He's not locked into one style of playing.

Who else is out there that you would put into this same class of music that you're making?

Nobody now, but that isn't to say that my music is that new sounding. It's more like a throwback to people like Dewey Redman in the 60s and, obviously, Ornette Coleman. I like Oliver Nelson's arranging a lot. He's a guy who had an album called Blues In The Abstract Truth that was one of my favorite albums. You know, then it has elements of Eric Dolphey's type of music in it. So it's more like the outer people of the 60s.

Where did you record it at?

It's called HeavyWood Studios. It's Randy Porter's home studio.

How long did the mixing and mastering take?

I think the mixing took about the same number of hours as the recording—about 8 hours. And then probably about that for the mastering. I did about a 4 hour mastering session at Kevin Nettlelingham.

And did Nettleingham also do the manufacturing.

Yeah. And my brother did the artwork.

So you did everything local.

Yeah. I did it myself. The plan was to make it then try and sell it to a label. I can possibly get it to a couple of small labels, but I tried to do the big label thing where I sent it to a million labels. I got a lot of positive responses. Blue Note, they actually sent me a personal letter saying they liked it. But nowadays, even big artists—big-time jazz players aren't getting label deals. So as an artist it really makes you think about why you're making a record. Really the reason I made this record is...for musicians to hear it, and to let other musicians in this town know that I do my own music. And it's led to a lot of interesting musical situations because people have heard the record.
It is really important to be versatile. And you can lose sight of what you really got into music for, and a lot of people do. They just play commercial gigs and after years of this they haven't continued to develop their own sound, or they don't even know what their own sound is any more. So that was really one of the reasons that I did this. I believe that, as an artist, you have to keep doing your thing. Even if you're making your money playing somebody else's music...I've always tried to keep in the back of my mind to keep writing and keep trying to play my own music even though I haven't had a chance to do it at certain points when I was perhaps doing a more commercial type gig. But really, the reason I got into playing was to play creative music, and it really has nothing to do with making a living.

So you do play live quite often?

With this band, or with my own music, I've put on some different concerts. I've worked at Jazz De Opus with this group a number of times and...Jimmy Maks, I've worked there. And one of the interesting things I found about my own music—I can do somebody else's music over and over and be a craftsman, but with my own music I get very self-conscious about repeating myself. This is a problem with marketing. I don't want to play my pieces over and over and make a show out of it and play them and play them. So with this record, I've pretty much done it enough. Which isn't a good marketing strategy.

So how frequently do you get play your music—or choose to?

I usually have different players because the players on the record aren't always available, which is really interesting to hear other guys do the music. For the past year I've been doing it maybe once or twice a month...when I first got to town I had some music written that was for a certain instrumentation and none of the clubs could afford to pay me anywhere near this instrumentation—you know, 7 people. So I had to develop some music that I could do as a quartet that was flexible. I've been here in town for about 5 and half/6 years, and it took me 3 or 4 years to get enough music that fit together cohesively—that I could do with different groups. This music is flexible enough to do with fewer players and it fits into some other music that I've written. So if you do a club, you have to have a whole night of music...A concert situation is a little different...You can do an hour or something. But the way jazz musicians get hired normally is a club, and it's 4 hours of music, and I didn't feel good about doing my music and then doing a bunch of jazz standards. It's like, what the hell is the relationship between these jazz standards and my music. So it kept me from playing my own music here in town for a while. And now I feel like I have enough material that I don't have to do the same tunes. I've developed some standards that fit with my music. It's taken a while. When I first got here to town I wanted to jump in and start playing and it just got a little frustrating. I was putting a lot of filler in, and a lot of music that didn't fit with my music. It'd be like if you had your own style of thrash metal or whatever, and then you did a few Allman Brothers tunes just to finish the night.

Do you think that it's possible to recapture a jazz scene that is more about performances rather than 4 hours long while clients are coming in and out?

For me, the performance situation fits my music better, or more appropriately, than doing a night in a club. 4 hours, 4 sets, just because that's what the club makes you play. So...I'm considering doing concerts more, or special events. I did a cd release at the Old Church. Have you heard of that venue? It's a church that they use for concerts and I did an hour and half concert. I think my music fits more in that type of a situation rather than a club.

Do you see the avenue for making that more of a reality?

...I play about once a month with Rob Scheps Big Band and he's doing some really creative, original, big, large group music. He's really carved out a niche.

What kind of audience is he getting?

He's getting some younger college students who study jazz at PSU. He's getting the traditional jazz audience there, too, who usually go to clubs. I think if the players make a commitment to do the performances without getting their 60 dollars that they would get in a club situation—I think it has to come from the players. Rob Scheps has really made a commitment to playing music no matter what, whether somebody hired him or not. And that's one of the things I respect about him. And he's had a big influence on me in that respect because when I came to town I was more of a working musician who gets hired and if there's no money in it I don't want to do it. And I'm starting to change. I realize playing jazz, creative jazz, is a choice you make as an artist rather than going out and getting hired for gigs. You have to create your own gigs in your own venue if you want to do your own music.

What direction do you see the jazz scene going in?

Unfortunately, the economy is pretty bad so that's having an effect. But I've seen a lot of really good young players in Portland who are playing creative music and they play even though it may not be a traditional gig. I think that's really healthy. Some of the guys I've seen around town...Dan Gainer, he's a really great piano player. A drummer named Ken Ollis. And there's a new bass player in town name Jonas Tauber. These young guys are out there playing because they really want to play. And they do traditional gigs too, but they realize that playing jazz is really important, so they do it, no matter what...

And how much can you pay free jazz musicians?

Right. Let's face it, bars and restaurants are in the business of selling food. They sell alcohol and food...[In mocking voice] It's tough out there.

So is it strictly jazz musicians that you find are listening to your album? Miguel was the one who introduced me to you...

I think non-jazz players would like it a lot but as of this point I haven't been able to get the album out there to that many non-jazz players. I mean, most of the people who have heard it have been musicians.

Where can people hear it and find it?

You can call KMHD and they play it quite often. But unfortunately they only play certain, milder tracks. They tend to shy away from the more rambunctious ones. On KBOO there's a DJ named Jack and he's on Saturday afternoon, and he's played it. If you requested it there I think he would play any track on it. It's available at certain places in Portland...Reverb records on Hawthorne. It's available at Music Millennium. Everyday Music, it's available there. And it's available at Borders downtown.

Getting away from jazz for a minute, what other styles of music inspire you?

The whole idea of the rock group, where everybody in the group had an important function. I think if you bring up the Beatles, everybody had their place and contributed. It's the old thing where the whole is greater than the sum of the parts, and that's been a big influence on my music...One thing I don't like about a lot of jazz groups that I've run into—and this goes for big bands as well as small groups—one person is featured over and over—usually the leader. And I've tried to feature everybody I've chosen. I've tried to be generous and allow everybody to contribute, because I find it boring when one person is being featured all the time. And when my album has been reviewed or the other musicians have commented on it, I think that's one of the things I like that they say...And that's a conscious choice, and I think that comes from more of a rock attitude. It's the group sound, not a bunch of accompanists with a soloist all the time. But I think a lot of painting and visual art effects my music more than most jazz, too. I like abstract art a lot. With the titles of my pieces, and the arrangements, I think visual arts has had an effect, too.

Which artists?

I like Kandinsky a lot. And I like German Expressionism a lot. And—you know, I try to think of my titles, too. There's a literary aspect that's important to the music. I can't begin to put it in to words...my music is influenced by a lot of things and not just playing an instrument.



Where to see/hear Tim:

April 28, May 27
with Rob Sheps
at Disjecta

May 23
with Denny Bixby
at Jimmy Maks

Also, he will be appearing on new records by
Chuck Israel
and
3rd Angle Ensemble, the music of David Shiff