As I approach the conclusion of my latest book, "Jazz Mastery: Decoding Giant Steps" (working title), I'm reminded of the trepidation I once felt towards this tune. I think it has been wrongly categorized as a pinnacle of jazz improvisation, and It got me reminiscing about my early days as a musician in the UK before I left for America.
I dug through my archives to find this live recording of my first real band from way back in '98, when I was still nineteen. Even though it’s not of us playing Giant Steps (something I’m not sure we ever did as a band at that time), it does have that vocabulary woven through each soloist’s contribution to the performance.
As I listen to this live performance from the Bull's Head Jazz Club in London, I can't help but cringe at how hard I was trying to impress in the moment. But we've all been there, right? It takes time to find your footing and be an individual voice while at the same time having the ability to put the group first.
I'm struck by how my bass playing was already taking shape on this old bootleg cassette, even if my soloing was a mess. It's a humbling reminder of how far I've come since those early days.
That same drive that propelled me as a young musician still burns bright today. Every time I embark on a new project, I aim to infuse it with that same energy, that same relentless pursuit of excellence. And in "Jazz Mastery: Decoding Giant Steps" I see an opportunity to guide others along that same path.
This book is not about mastering a single tune, as so many people mistakenly believe. Rather, it's about using that tune as a launching pad to explore the entire American Jazz Songbook. "Giant Steps" is nothing more than a collection of ii-V-Is, after all. Yes, it changes keys rapidly, but that shouldn't deter anyone from giving it a try.
Like any piece of music, it takes hard work and dedication to truly excel. But it's not an insurmountable challenge. And I hope to use this book to help others realize their full potential as musicians.
Sharing this bootleg recording from my past is a way of staying connected to my roots, of reminding myself of how far I've come, and of inspiring others to reach for their goals. As long as I keep that clear picture of the process in mind, I know that I can continue to help others achieve greatness, and keep growing as a musician and artist myself.
I wish technology had been more affordable to me in 1998 to share a more hi-fidelity example of that stage of my musical journey. But through the hiss and the shitty EQ, I still feel this deep connection to the music, along with nostalgia for a time in my life where growth felt like it happened hourly, not weekly.
Cheers,
Janek.