I’m very lucky to have many things in my life to be thankful for, and I’m extremely grateful that music is at the way top of the list.
Many of you know that I grew up here in Atlanta but moved to New York City for college, grad school and a few years following. Often, during those years, I’d invite people over for a “no-phones music-listening party,” and usually received enthusiastic acceptances to my invitation. However, I came to expect one question to often follow that acceptance - not from everyone, but from many: “What will we do while the music’s on?”
I came to realize that because there isn't a visual component to listening to music, listening to music can’t be “the activity” to many, these days.
I began to ask friends and others about their music listening habits, and I came to realize that, sadly, for many, listening to music is really only a device people use so they're not bored on the way somewhere - or, more directly, a way to be distracted from being alone with oneself. This is sad because, to me, listening to music and paying attention to the music I’m listening to has been one of the most enriching things in my life – and, even if you don't play music, I think it can enrich yours similarly.
The first thing music brought into my life was beauty. There's a great drummer named Art Blakey who said, “Music washes away the dust of everyday life,” and that statement resonates deeply with me. Once I got into music, I felt that music had elevated my life somewhere beyond the ordinary. Nietzsche once said, “Without music, life would be a mistake.” I’ve always interpreted this as music is basically proof that life is not a mistake, and I totally agree. People often say that music is life, and vice versa. My love for music has brought so many beautiful sounds and people into my life - which have given meaning to so many things, including the non-musical.
Examples of how my love for music has brought meaning to so many things in my life will follow but, for this audience specifically, I love and want to quickly share the story of how I came to meet and befriend one of my heroes, the legendary pianist and vocalist Les McCann.
I was asked to open for him at New York’s Blue Note in 2012 and was already on-stage sound-checking when he entered the club. He was in a wheelchair at the time and was wheeled up to the stage, where we first met. It wasn’t a typical meeting though; he didn’t exactly greet me. Instead, he asked me to play him some blues. I was nervous. After all, what could I, a white, Jewish millennial offer Les, one of the greatest blues players ever? I did my best, trying to play it cool - and good, and not let fear enter my mind. After a minute or two, Les said, “Amen,” and I breathed a sigh of relief. When I finished playing Les asked my name.
“Joe Alterman,” I said.
“Alterman,” he said, before asking, “You a Rabbi?”
“No,” I told him, through my laughter, “but I am a…”
“Hebrew?”, he asked.
Through my laughter again: “Yeah, you could call me a Hebrew.”
“Well, from now on, you’re my He-bro.” And that was the start of a beautiful friendship.
Shortly after the start of that beautiful friendship, Les asked me how much I practiced each day. I proudly told him 6 or 7 hours a day. His response? “Way too much!”
I was shocked. I never expected one of my hero pianists to tell me I was practicing too much. Confused, I asked him what he meant.
“You need to go out and live,” he said. “You need to be doing things so that you have something to sing about when you get to the piano.”
Another piano legend, Ramsey Lewis, gave me the confidence to be myself. I was once really nervous before a show and asked him if he ever got nervous. First, he told me that he doesn’t call it nerves; he calls it “professional anticipation." Second, he said, “No. I only knew that I could do what I could do the best that I could do it, so I did it, you know?”
The great pianist Don Friedman taught me about fulfillment. I studied with Don for my 4 undergraduate years at NYU, and then we lunched weekly for the following 5, before I moved back to Atlanta, and he sadly passed away. When Don and I first met, he was in his early 70s and I was an 18-year-old college freshman; I’d never met anyone who was so kind and calm, not bitter or egotistical in the least. And, more than anything, he just seemed so happy and fulfilled. I remember often thinking to myself: If making music, my life's pursuit, can make me feel like that when I'm older, that's what I want to do. Just by being who he is, I learned that true success is internal; I've never met anyone who seemed as happy and content as Don.
The great journalist Nat Hentoff really impressed on me how dedicated and committed you have to be to really do this. He would tell me about how Charles Mingus, the legendary bassist, who was dying from ALS and couldn't even move his hands, would call Nat late at night and sing to him melodies that he had just composed. Nat, in fact, was so dedicated to his craft that, after he could no longer write or hear, he would dictate articles to his son. In fact, when I called to wish him a Happy 90th Birthday, he called me back the next day, apologizing for missing me on his actual birthday. He told me that, “For my birthday present, I just wanted a day alone to write.” One day in passing he said something else that I’ll never forget: “Why do something that doesn't let you be you?”
When I was nervous about what leaving New York could do to my career, Ramsey Lewis encouraged me to move home. “Go where you’ll be happy,” he said. “And it will reflect in your music.”
It’s important to Les McCann that I understand that my gift is not just at the piano. “The piano is just a tool,” he often tells me. “Without that piano, without those fingers, you would still be hearing music. That's the part I'm trying to get you to see. You've gotta hear what's in you.”
Growing up, all I wanted to do was to develop a “New York sound” and do whatever I could to sound like these heroes of mine. But in getting to know these heroes - with whom I shared this dream - they all impressed on me one crucial fact: I’d never sound like them because we haven’t lived the same life. But I have my own life and my story, which they all found pretty cool, so why not lean into that? And why try to sound like I’m from New York when I’m from down south? Lean into that, too!
I once had an assignment in college where I was to write a melody over a series of chord changes. Technically, the note I wanted to write over one chord clashed and made no sense theoretically. I wasn’t sure what to do. Afraid of turning in what I was honestly hearing and getting a bad grade on the assignment, I called Les. “You need to go work on a farm,” he told me. I didn’t understand… “This shit doesn’t matter,” he continued. “If you hear it, it’s good.” He was reminding me that I needed to trust myself - musically and beyond.
For me, music truly is life - and music has made my life what it is today. Everything that makes me who I am stems from my original love of listening to music.
For years now, I’ve been reading articles about various radio stations cutting songs at the two-minute mark because they don’t believe their listeners have the attention span to listen to anything longer anymore. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve shared a favorite part of a song with someone; the 9:27 mark for example - and they fast forward to the 9:15 mark, not realizing that it’s the 9-minute, 27-second buildup that makes that moment so special.
This is sad to me because active and attentive music listening is not only such a wonderful, uplifting and elevating experience, but that simple act has led me to so many incredible lessons, opportunities and relationships that I never could have anticipated and for which I’m so thankful - and whether or not you’re a musician or a casual fan, attentive music listening is sure to bring many rewards to your life, too!
This listening can happen at home or at a live show. As we approach Hanukkah, I am thankful that just as the holiday ends, I'll be able to share the stage with another of my mentors – legendary tenor saxophonist Houston Person. On December 16 at 8PM, I'll be performing a holiday concert with him. I grew up practicing along with Houston's recordings pretending that I was the pianist on the record, dreaming of one day playing with him. I'm very lucky that that dream did eventually come true (here's a clip of us a few years back at Lincoln Center) and am really excited for this special hometown concert. Houston is a bonafide jazz legend, having recorded over 80 albums and performed with the likes of Lou Rawls, Horace Silver, Lena Horne, Ron Carter, George Benson and many others. Hope to see you there!