Interview with Marty Khan

Interview with Marty Khan
Author of
Straight Ahead: A Comprehensive Guide to the Business of Jazz
(Without Sacrificing Dignity or Artistic Integrity)

This interview was conducted by Steve Rowland, who won a Peabody Award for his groundbreaking 8-hour radio documentary The Miles Davis Radio Project. His other outstanding radio documentaries include the 13-hour series The Music Makers
(featuring George Clinton, Carlos Santana, Frank Zappa, The Neville Brothers, Patti
Labelle and The Roots) and the incredible 5-hour program on John Coltrane, Tell
Me How Long Trane’s Been Gone. His latest opus, Leonard Bernstein: An American
Life is being aired on over 700 NPR stations and affiliates starting in early October.

M   For two primary reasons.

      The first is because, like many of us “old-school” types, I’ve become increasingly distressed       over what’s been happening to Jazz over the past 20-25 years. Not just how its economy has       become so polarized, and how it’s become so trivialized and marginalized throughout       society, but also in the attitudes and blurred vision of the musicians themselves. Especially       in terms of the younger ones, upon whom the future of the music ultimately depends.

      The second is to repay those musicians and individuals who reached out to me when I was       learning the ropes.

S   Who are you talking about?

M   A lot of people. My musical teachers, Bill Barron and Sam Rivers. My “philosophical and       sociological” teachers like George Russell, Makanda Ken McIntyre, John Carter, Lester       Bowie, Betty Carter, Sonny Fortune and a lot of other artists for and with whom I’ve had       business relationships. But also many musicians I met in clubs as a kid in my mid-teens       who simply took an interest in a young fan, eager to learn. Arnie Lawrence, Jaki Byard, Robin       Kenyatta, Marion Brown, Tony Scott and countless others, famous and obscure. I didn’t have       to chase and bug them to pay attention to me. They would approach me, obviously wanting       to help me understand things that their elders had shown them. And not just musicians, but       record store clerks who would approach me when I was browsing through the bins – not to       sell me something, just to hip me to stuff. And deejays like Ed Williams, Alan Grant, Father       O’Connor. Older fans, even some club owners and bartenders, and even business guys like       Jim Harrison. It was like a vocation, a calling. Passing on an oral tradition. Cultivating a new       member. I was blessed to come into the music during the final stages of that golden age.

S   And you feel that’s over, that you can’t find that anymore?

M   No, not completely. You can still find it in some places if you try hard enough. But I didn’t       have to find it. It found me.

S   So how does your book intend to address that?

M   I’m trying to renew that spirit. That passionate commitment to the profound values that are       embodied in the legacy of this music. Those principles of love, spirituality, exploration,       dedication, innovation, evolution and the steadfast desire to communicate it to the audience       and other artists, in those same traditions of Duke, Bird, George Russell, Miles, Clifford,       Monk, Mingus and in its most perfect form, Coltrane. And in everybody who they profoundly       influenced.

S   But isn’t the book a guide to business?

M   Unquestionably. But that’s really the point of entry – the raison d’etre, if you will. Taking a       page from the masters who inspired me, there’s a message of spirituality and humanity       within those structures of aesthetic enjoyment and compelling rhythms. I stress those same       elements in the book.

S   I suppose the key is in the title, particularly the parenthetical - Straight Ahead: A       Comprehensive Guide to the Business of Jazz (Without Sacrificing Dignity or Artistic       Integrity).

M   As the great line in Citizen Kane goes: “It’s no big thing to make a lot of money – if all you       want to do is make a lot of money.”

      But you’ve got to live, got to eat, got to support the family and address the responsibilities.       The money that Trane got paid allowed him to bring his message to that many more people.       It’s all reciprocal, and symbiotic. It’s all about balance and order. The book is intended to       display that balance, to offer the reader an opportunity to establish a personal circumstance       of business sense and artistic integrity that is productive and realistic, and under one’s own       control of self-empowerment.

S   Does that mean that this book is specifically designed for the uncompromising artist and       isn’t necessarily useful for the musician who’s just looking to make a living or achieve       big success in jazz?

M   No, not really. For the musician who’s looking to get a solid grasp of the business to pursue       it in the standard manner – manager, record deal, gigs, bigger manager, better record deal,       more and better paying gigs and so forth in an increasing spiral – all of the essential       information is contained. How to get the most out of management relationships, record       deals, performing opportunities, etc. There is a great deal of information about marketing,       promotional and career development strategies that are ideal for the business as it’s       always been, is, and always will be.

      But for the artist to whom the music is first and the career an essential and hopefully       lucrative by-product, the contents of this book are absolutely indispensable.

      As for those who take the information and spirit in which this book is intended, and use it to       exploit or cause damage, I put a Sicilian curse on them. (laughter)

S   Warding off Sicilian curses for the moment and getting back to your previous statement       about your primary intentions of offering a new method of doing business, do you feel       that’s practical for the older musician, or is the book primarily intended for younger       musicians and students?

M   Man, you’ve hit a raw nerve there. It’s very painful to me, but I feel that this book will probably       not appeal to older musicians, and even to many younger musicians who are already in the       trenches. It really pains me to say this, but if I have a widespread reputation for one thing, it’s       for being a straight-talkin’ mutha*****. (laughter) Seriously though, man, I wish I was wrong       about this. There are so many people for whom I have enormous respect – and even love in       some cases – who just won’t or don’t want to think about this stuff.

      And realistically, if you’ve been playing professionally for 20, 30, 40 years, accustomed to       looking for a manager or agent to execute the basic one-two punch of getting a record deal       and gigging – or vice versa – it’s got to be awfully daunting to consider reassessing and       designing a new strategy. Set up a non-profit, take charge of your own career, market your       own product? It’s a helluva lot easier to take whatever comes along and bitch about how       tough things are. Playing the music is challenging enough. Self-empowerment? Everybody       claims to want it, but I find that it’s usually just a position cats take in-between record deals       and when gigs are thin.

      And I can’t fault them either. I mean, you see some punk with no credentials, no vision, not       even any real peer respect sucking down big bucks, critical hosannas, artsy fartsy acclaim,       commissions, awards and whatnot. How do you argue with the logic that says “If that no-      playin’ blah blah blah is makin’ 20 grand a night, I should be makin’ 40!” Or even 10 for that       matter. But that logic just doesn’t compute. Not today, man.

      What cats fail to realize is that this isn’t about them, or even about the musicians who are       getting those gigs, those deals, that visibility on the hustle. You think Lincoln Center is about       Wynton, or even about Jazz? It’s about real estate my brother. It’s about that 2.1 billion dollar       building in Columbus Circle with its 450 luxury condos!

      Wait, wait, wait. Coach needs to call a time out. My game’s a half-court game now. Hard D,       ball movement, open shots and solid rebounding. No more run and gun – even if I’m hitting       all net on the wild 3s. (laughter)

S   Before we call that time out, let’s follow that last line of thought a little longer. You’ve       written some very hardcore negative articles about the jazz and fine arts business in the       past. Is this book along those same lines?

M   You’re talking about some of those pieces I wrote for the Pariah’s Diatribes at the BirdLives       website back in 99-00, right? Nah, it’s a new day, man. There was an enormous amount of       anger and frustration that had built up for a lot of years in those pieces.

S   So have you softened your positions on those issues?

M   Not at all. Just my methods of expressing them. I think folks got too caught up in the ferocity       of the words. Those pieces were written in cold-blooded calm, a steady hand and an even       voice. But people read them as screaming assaults. I got the feeling that they pictured me       running round the desert naked, taking bites out of cacti and strangling rattlesnakes in       between paragraphs.

S   That’s a pretty sobering image.

M   We should recommend it to AA (laughter). Seriously though, I feel that people were just       getting off on seeing the targets get blown up without paying attention to the real message.       It’s like folks who are into the avant-garde just for the screamin’ and honkin’, without trying to       understand the context or absorb the spirituality, or to be able to differentiate between who       can really play and who’s just screamin’ and honkin’.

S   So you feel those articles were ineffective?

M   Oh, no. They were effective. They just didn’t accomplish what I’d intended. I’ve even heard       from people who’ve told me how I launched personal attacks on this person or that one. But       there weren’t any. I would ask them for specific examples but nobody could ever give me       one.

      I think that some people reacted to those articles in the way I’d hoped – by thinking. But       some of them may not have liked what they ended up seeing in the mirror I was placing in       front of them. So they projected their own thoughts into my words and blamed me for where       they ended up. I recognized that confronting these issues in that manner was like using fire       to kill cockroaches. You may get rid of them but you’ll probably end up burning down the       house.

S    So do you regret having written them?

M   No, not in the least. It was a learning process. It was the first public writing I’d ever done,       and I stand by every word of it. But there’s a more effective methodology – and that’s the       approach I’ve taken with the book. Truth is Truth. But Richard Pryor and Lenny Bruce could       hammer home the Truth much more effectively than some fire and brimstone preacher.

S   There’s a lot of funny stuff in the book, but I wouldn’t call it a funny book.

M   No, it’s not. I use humor, but I also use numbers, logic, anecdotal examples, historical       perspective and whatnot. I tried to make it an enjoyable and easy read, even if the concepts       are challenging and the message strong. From the reaction I’ve gotten so far, it seems to       have succeeded in that.

S   I agree with that. But it’s also somewhat overwhelming in its scope. I don’t mean that in a       negative way, but it covers so much territory in great detail. Do you really feel that one       person can write as authoritatively as you do on so many aspects of the business?

M   If that person has the direct experience in all of those aspects, sure. I’m not the biggest or       most prolific manager, record producer, concert promoter, etc. But my credentials in each of       those domains are considerable. To be honest, I can’t think of anyone who can claim as       much experience across-the-board as I can. Plus, the experience is all hands-on, and       primarily in the eye of the hurricane, New York City.

S   But you’ve been in Tucson, Arizona since 1994. Doesn’t that make you something of an       “outsider” now?

M    I’ve always been an outsider. Angles of perception like mine don’t exactly get you a good       seat at the jazz-business-as-usual sushi bar. Not with the jazz daddies in the record biz or       with the “advocacy” side either. And what exactly may I have missed being out of New York       these past 10 years? The new state-of-the art, specially-designed-for-jazz Lincoln Center       Mausoleum? Being out of the fray, but still heavily involved, informed and aware of what’s       going on, has provided me with a certain objectivity which I’ve tried to bring to the book.

S   I noticed that while you are quite candid and forthright, you portray many of the       professionals and business people somewhat sympathetically, or at least with       understanding.

M   More understanding than sympathetic. Look, I’ve, always been on both sides here. I’ve       experienced the mistrust of musicians; the lack of understanding of my role and even my       job; the hustle of getting my butt smooched and then called a jive-assed MF behind my back       within a few seconds by the same person. I’ve also watched musicians treat decent, well-      intentioned and competent professionals like shit and then suck up to some of the sleaziest       low-lifes imaginable. I’ve tried to wrestle shotguns out of the hands of some musicians who       insist upon shooting off their big toes and I have stood up for managers and agents who       deserve it when being unfairly treated or slandered.

      I’m a 100% unadulterated advocate for the musician and a major proponent of artists’ self-      empowerment. But that demands that the artist attain a certain level of knowledge,       understanding, sensitivity and objectivity. There is no easier prey than a willing victim. There       is no greater respect that you can give to someone than to be honest and straightforward in       dealing with them – with the proper courtesy and humanity of course.

      But bullshit is bullshit, slimebags are slimebags and self-serving, thieving weasels need to       be called just what they are.

S   That sounds like a bit of a segué. (laughter)

M   Yours or mine?

S   Your call.

M   Let’s talk about the world of jazz advocacy. (laughter)

S   OK. You’re really hard on jazz advocates, funders and the fine arts world in general. You       seem to despise them more than record execs and clubowners. Why?

M   Because they should know better and they try to make it seem like they do, as if they act       responsibly and for the general good of the musician and the art form. The worst part is that       this area should offer the greatest hopes of the holistic and systemic change that is so       essential to the jazz economy. Instead we just get a new variation on the same ol’ same ol’.

      Look, decade upon decade of empirical evidence tells us what to expect from record execs,       clubowners, festival moguls, hustling managers, duplicitous agents and so forth. If I’m       hiking in the desert and I’m not careful enough to notice a rattlesnake’s warning, or how to       avoid their likely hangouts, I deserve to get bit. But if I encounter a fellow hiker, out there       because he loves the desert, I have a right to not expect to be held up at gunpoint. I also       have a right to assume he’s not going to be stupid enough to spill my water supply or lurch       into me so I get thrown into a cactus or rattlesnake lair.

      Too many folks posing as advocates are cheap hustlers or clueless muthas who can cause       enormous damage with misinformation, misrepresentation or the willingness to lie       shamelessly in order to promote themselves or pick up some funding money. We’ve had 15       years of misguided, poorly-conceived and myopic funding programs that have tossed       millions of dollars of facility-based funding into trickle down programs for jazz artists who are       too far down the line to get much trickle. They stroke the funders and fine arts denizens, call       them visionaries, and toss around worthless ideas that supposedly enrich the music, but do       nothing for those who’ve dedicated their lives to playing it.

S   That’s a pretty harsh assessment. You can’t possibly believe that all activists and       advocates are that way?

M   No, of course not. I know many, many honest, dedicated and hardworking activists who give       selflessly of themselves. But these are not the ones who have the ears of funders. And       many times they’re too busy trying to stop the bleeding with bandaids to come up with the       large-scale ideas that are needed. Or even more so, to play the silly little mind games and       ego-massages that are necessary to get the ear of some foundation official with the money       to spend.

      Funders and fine arts folks are incredibly ignorant about jazz – and most of them are quite       comfortable right where they are about it. They‘re more comfortable with the appearance of       caring than actually doing so. They choose to surround themselves with jazz advocates who       won’t challenge or disturb their notions. That’s why Lincoln Center is so attractive to them.       Big buildings, big salaries, big audiences – the American signs of success.

      The jazz economy has big problems. Big problems demand big solutions. Big solutions       demand hard work and heavy commitment. All that stuff stands in the way of posturing and       hanging out. Slap another coat of paint on the sucker, douse it with perfume and call it       progress.

      Does that sound too angry and bitter and contemptuous? OK. Let’s look at a simple       example. All of the fine arts use 501(c)(3) non-profit corporations as their economic       backbone. All of the major funding is given to 501(c)(3)s. Most of the major presenters, jazz       societies, educational institutions and advocacy organizations are c3s. Yet none of them       have tried to familiarize or assist jazz musicians in establishing or working within c3s.       Mention it to any of them and they laugh. “Yuk Yuk. Jazz musicians running a non-profit. Yuk,       yuk, yuk. Holding a board meeting? Ha Ha Ha.”

      You think classical composers, choreographers, dramatists and so forth are any more       qualified to do so? Puh-leeze. It’s just that they know it’s the only way to play the game.

      Then of course you have the other knuckle-headed response. “Well I don’t make any money.       I may as well go non-profit.” Yuk, yuk, yuk.

S   You refer to the 501(c)(3) throughout the book, recommending it heavily. But funding is       getting harder and harder to get. Has this altered your thinking on the importance of       utilizing one?

M   No, it hasn’t. Grants and funding are just one aspect of the c3 picture. The vehicle by its very       nature is ideal for the creative artist, educator, composer, whatever. There are so many       advantages and so few disadvantages. Everybody thinks that there is so much complexity       and time consumption involved in operating a non-profit. And the world of jazz advocacy       perpetuates that thinking. The reality is that the amount of time and work that needs to be put       in can be entirely devoted to issues of career development, professional activity, investment       and return, and all of the other elements that are supposed to be involved in achieving the       artist’s goals. The non-profit simply provides the best environment for that growth and       development. It’s the ideal structure to utilize team management. It enhances the potential       for outside participation, the non-profit term for investment. It streamlines the artist’s       personal accountability regarding his or her financial activity. It offers a wider angle for       visibility, in addition to the attention that the artist receives directly. It also allows the jazz artist       to be taken more seriously, especially by the fine arts world. And it opens doors for funding       potential that is not accessible in any other way.

      Ultimately, it is the single most valuable resource toward self-empowerment. And that’s why       it’s so discouraged. It is antithetical to the plantation mentality and paternalism that has       always been the true backbone of the jazz industry.

S   The book goes into extreme detail about the 501(c)(3) from set-up through reporting       requirements. Are you really qualified to provide the information in such explicit detail?

M   Conceptually, yes. From a purely legal standpoint, not entirely. That’s why this chapter was       written with the assistance of Lenny Easter, one of the foremost attorneys in the non-profit       field and a professor at New School University. Lenny has been my non-profit guru for 25       years. He’s set up hundreds of non-profits, including more than 50 through our organization       Outward Visions – which he incorporated back in 1980 when he was Director of Volunteer       Lawyers for the Arts. He fine-toothed every line of that section, making all of the appropriate       changes, clarifications, warnings and whatnot, like the great lawyer he is.

      That’s also why that part of the book reads a little drier, I’m afraid.

S   Why didn’t you just refer the reader to other books in the field, as you did for music       publishing and self-booking?

M   Because those are written for lawyers and law students. This was written with the jazz       musician and jazz professional in mind, and is focused on their particular needs and the       related application. And it’s all in question/answer format.

The is the end of the first part of the interview.

click here to purchase
"Straight Ahead"