Text by Dawoud Kringle

Andre Benjamin (a.k.a. Andre 3000) succeeded with the Atlanta-based hip-hop duo Outkast, collaborated with Beyonce and Erykah Badu, and made his mark as an actor. In 2023, he shocked the music world by releasing New Blue Sun, an all-instrumental collaboration with Carlos Nino, where he played flute. Nothing could have prepared audiences for one of the greatest rappers in hip hop making a bold move into ambient, flute based improvisational music. And against all odds, it was a great success.

Musicians have been improvising music for thousands of years. I could (and occasionally have) write about the musical traditions of ancient and classical cultures where musicians were expected to improvise. In the last several decades, jazz, some arcane offshoots of rock music, and all variations and subgenres have established improvisation as a mainstay in its canon.

One problem that has plagued the free jazz tradition is that it fell into the same trap it escaped when it was created. Its processes and artistic concepts became calcified. It became a slavish imitation of John and Alice Coltrane, Albert Ayler, Sun Ra, Ornette Coleman, the Art Ensemble of Chicago, and the like. It was established as a canon that would and could not evolve. It became elitist and alienated outsiders who were otherwise potential audiences or musicians who could inject new inspiration into the music.

Apart from this and the aforementioned remnants of the free music movement of the 1960s and 1970s, improvised music is an underground anomaly that is, frankly, fighting to survive. The “jazz attitude” of the free music subculture allowed it to become calcified and inaccessible. They protected the integrity of their music while simultaneously destroying it. Exceptions to this exist within this subculture of improvised music. But one improvising musician of my acquaintance described the music of that scene as “insufferable.”

This brings up more conundrums. They inevitably involve the psychological dichotomy between musicians and audiences.

A creative artist faces a peculiar danger; creating original art imposes one’s inner image of the world on others. This demands approval or disapproval. Inevitably, this polarizes people into opposing groups, leading them to perceive the music not on its merit but as an image of the artist. As a result, life and art become confused in the minds of the audiences. This creates the danger that the musician’s success must come at the cost of personal serenity, peace, happiness – and possibly human identity.

Because of this, the musician constantly fights to preserve his or her artistic vision. This is one of two explanations for why musicians become elitist (the other is mere egoism and narcissism).

I know this because I have been guilty of elitism myself. In retrospect, I realized that it produced no useful results for me and altered my methods and motives.

This begs the question of the future of improvised music.

One thing that must be factored into the equation is AI. There has been a great deal of concern regarding AI-generated music. It may very well be that the rise of improvisational music is among the most natural and viable responses to this. This raises questions about publishing and copyrights (a discussion beyond the scope of this editorial). But suppose songs can be written, recorded, and even mastered instantly by anybody with access to a generative AI app. In that case, this might push musicians in a direction where improvisational music may be one of our only options. Generative AI music apps cannot improvise music. I tried it; the results were unfit for human ears.

This illustrates one of the errors the free jazz / improvisational music elite made was the refusal to embrace emerging technologies (even after Miles Davis showed them the way in the late 60s / early 70s). The attempt to control the AI genie that cannot be put back into the lamp aside, musical instrument technology has evolved to allow musicians to create sounds and music that were not possible in the 60s. This is a factor that cannot be ignored.

In a recent interview, Nile Rogers shared a story. Many years ago, he complained to his jazz guitar teacher, Ted Dunbar, about having to play Top 40 hits like Sugar by the Archies. Rogers was outraged that Dunbar called it a “great composition.” After Rogers voiced his disagreement, Dunbar explained that “any song that makes it into the Top 40 is a great composition because it speaks to a million strangers.”

Mind you, if I never hear Sugar, Sugar again, I won’t shed a tear. But Dunbar may have a point. Maybe that ability to reach out to an audience and speak to people personally is what improvisational music is missing.

I must once again refer to Andre 3000. I attended his concert at the Brooklyn Academy of Music in October 2024. It was a revelation. In addition to top-level musicianship, the most important thing was that he made the audience feel like they were in the zone with him and were part of the show.

This isn’t without precedent. Jimi Hendrix improvised almost all his music live. But his performances were legendary because, despite going “out” with his music, he created a mystique that few of the free improvisational people ever could and, at the same time, made a personal connection with the audience. Frank Zappa was an excellent improviser and composer and, at the same time, was a master of putting on a show. His entertainment never overshadowed the artistic integrity of his music (name one time Zappa compromised his music. Take all the time you need). The Grateful Dead were world-class purveyors of improvisational music and pioneers of how to market such music. They broke every rule in the music business and not only survived for decades but made a ton of money. And apart from the more obviously jazz-oriented musicians, there are others like Phish, Snarky Puppy, Lettuce, King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, Umphrey’s McGee, and others.

The reason for all this is simple: they all knew how to connect with the audience.

If there’s one thing that improvisational music should be, it should be alive, welcoming, sincere, inspiring, and enjoyable. As I see it, there is no other way to create an audience and market for improvised music. And an audience will only support music that speaks to their hearts.

For centuries, music has been separated physically and symbolically between composer and performer and between performer and audience. Today’s improvising musicians have inherited the mantle and responsibility of the performing virtuosos of the past, such as Bach, Paganini, Beethoven, Khan, Ellington, and Coltrane. Improvisation involves developing new rhythmic, melodic, and harmonic values, spontaneously fusing composer and performer, and then withdrawing from them both. This is essential to the search for meaning within music.

We are in a position to provide the audiences with a pure musical experience. Thus, the best music speaks to the musicians who make it and to those who listen to it.