3.94 AVERAGE

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An excellent primer on jazz with some listening recommendations. I like jazz without being a hard-core fan. I guess I'm more of an appreciator, especially of the more lyrical music (less so the blaring, dissonant variety). It was interesting to read about the form's development and what some of the big names -- Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Miles Davis--brought to the form. Worth a read!
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Satisfying and east to understand. Good recommendations inside too. 

Love when someone has so much love for something that it just makes you feel good. That is how I felt reading this book. 
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Well written, but foremost aimed at (and useful for) newcomers to jazz.

Fine—the beginning makes a big deal of how the author intends to be explicit about what makes jazz good—but then no such effort is in fact made, or at least communicated. Much of the book is recommendations for listening which, while welcome, were not lacking. There is some good material on structure and I liked the chapter(s?) on history. TG—as in his Substack—is a strange kind of writer... I can't put my finger on it, but maybe something like: He writes in a simple, accessible way, with (seemingly) artificially simple metaphors? There is something 19th-century-advertisement about it... He is not a dumb or even a simple writer, although the writing may be simple... normally people who write this way are dumb or make mistakes? I can't tell....

I liked that he vouched for the connection between musical personality and real-life personality; although not dwelt on, the distinction between the Pythagorean abstraction of note and the jazz (African-influenced) experience of sound interested me (jazz is a "hot" artform, in the McLuhanesque way, TG informs us) and I gained a new, Nietzschean respect for it as a more vital artform (do I need such pretentiousness for such a simple idea?), put into new perspective the sniveling classical music snob (a type who I feel sympathy and defensiveness for). Although it made romanticism in classical music newly incoherent, or at least confusing.... (It put a serious dent in a kind of classical-supremacism that had been growing half-consciously in me.) Anyway, that idea alone—and that I mostly found myself interested in the history in this book, made me want to read TG's other books, strange prose notwithstanding.

Three more things—
1. Curse of knowledge/academic
2. Threatening image of the sociopathic player (disguised)
3. Do we bend ourselves to the music, or does it bend to us?

How to Listen to Jazz, by Ted Gioia, is a pleasant, chatty book that isn't as pedagogic as the title might suggest. To be sure, Gioia does provide many clues and tips on how to listen to this most vibrant style of music, but many of them would apply to any style. He also doesn't give a simple list of names, and tell the reader to go listen to these records, though he does give many suggestions, and some lists. It also doesn't quite fulfill its promise to explain how music critics reach the conclusions that they do. More precisely, Gioia's book is one critic's approach to the music. He does nicely suggest how to tell the difference between great music and mediocre music, and ways to teach yourself to do that. (Hint, go listen to some bad music, then listen to some music generally regarded as great.)

Nevertheless, this is an enjoyable read that should spur any casual listener of jazz to seek out more. For example, I am now more motivated to listen to the music of Louis Armstrong and his predecessors than I was before. I always acknowledged his influence, but after reading How To Listen To Jazz, I understand a little better why Armstrong was so influential. There is also an enticing list of prominent current jazz artists in an appendix that are well worth seeking out.