Past Columns
The Big Pond
Back in Arkansas, Keefe Jackson could pay the bills playing other
people's music -- but to play his own, he had to come here.
By Peter Margasak
November 3, 2006
By touring together or appearing on one another's recordings, important
artists like Ken Vandermark, Rob Mazurek, and Tortoise have helped
establish Chicago's reputation as a friendly musical community
unconstrained by stylistic orthodoxies -- and that reputation has
proved irresistible to many up-and-coming jazz players in the last
decade. But when reedist Keefe Jackson moved to Chicago in 2001 from
Arkansas, he wasn't thinking about all that. "I was familiar with the
history of music that had happened here, but I didn't really know what was
currently taking place," he says. "I had heard a couple of Vandermark
records, but for me it wasn't about coming here because of what was
happening. I just assumed there were lots of opportunities and
musicians."
He assumed correctly, of course, and within a few months Jackson, now
29, had fallen in with the loose group of younger players who gig regularly
at the Hungry Brain. Now his tenor saxophone figures prominently in several
strong ensembles, from the Chicago Luzern Exchange to the Lucky 7s -- and
late last month at the Hideout, after more than five years of
collaborations and sideman work, he released his first album as a
bandleader. The nuanced postbop on the superb Ready Everyday
(Delmark), by Jackson's sextet Fast Citizens, is a far cry from the
in-your-face free jazz that made the 90s Chicago scene famous, but the
tunes still give the players lots of leeway to reimagine the direction and
complexion of their lively contrapuntal themes.
Jackson started playing cello by the Suzuki method at age three, and his
parents started taking him to concerts as soon as they could; by the time
his cello teacher moved away, he'd already developed a fascination with
jazz, particularly the saxophone. He wouldn't get his first horn till he
was ten, but within five years he was jobbing in a jazz band. (He notes that
Bill Clinton, while attorney general of Arkansas, pushed through laws
letting underage musicians play in bars.)
After a year at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville, in 1996
Jackson decided to follow that band to Portland, Maine, when the bassist
leading the group uprooted it to move closer to his kid. "I wanted to gain
a lot of experience in a broad kind of way," Jackson says. Soon he was in
several groups, playing not just jazz but rock, funk, and especially
klezmer.
Jackson would return to Fayetteville before long, though, to look after
his mother, who died of thyroid cancer in 1998. The local economy was more
robust -- Wal-Mart, which has its corporate headquarters in nearby
Bentonville, was enjoying a string of particularly good years, and a slew
of new restaurants and cafes had opened. Jackson found gigs playing
mainstream jazz almost every night and for the first time was able to
support himself as a musician. Still, he made repeated visits to New York
and Chicago, looking for a more adventurous scene. "In order to make a name
for yourself you have to live in a big city, for jazz anyway," he says. In
Chicago he saw concerts at clubs like the Velvet Lounge, the New
Apartment Lounge, and the Empty Bottle, and the atmosphere and audiences
appealed to him. Soon he forgot about going to New York. "Chicago felt
like it wasn't as expensive," he says, "and it was more friendly and
open."
After establishing relationships with local players over the course of a
couple years, he started presenting his own music, most notably with a
large band he called Keefe Jackson's Project Project. In 2005 he made his
first appearance on disc: Several Lights (Delmark), the excellent
debut by the Chicago Luzern Exchange, also featured cornetist Josh Berman,
drummer Frank Rosaly, and Swiss tubaist Marc Unternahrer. The album
paved the way for tours of the U.S. and Europe, Jackson's first as
anything but a sideman. Since then he's put out records with the Lucky 7s
-- formed by players from Chicago and New Orleans shortly after Katrina --
and with the 774th Street Quartet, an all-saxophone group that includes
Guillermo Gregorio, former Chicagoan Aram Shelton, and Swiss bass
saxist Thomas Mejer. Jackson also has high hopes for Fast Citizens --
Berman, Rosaly, Shelton, bassist Anton Hatwich, and cellist Fred
Lonberg-Holm -- though the members' busy schedules (and Shelton's move to
the Bay Area) make it hard for them to get together regularly.
Jackson has to work a part-time job to get by in Chicago, despite
playing in half a dozen regular bands, but he's not disappointed. "I'm
definitely surprised and happy to have the kind of musical relationships
that I have," he says. "In this kind of music there's really not any
'making it.' You might still be waiting tables and playing the gigs you
like to play with people you like, putting out a couple of records and
doing some tours. . . . That's making it."
Keefe Jackson's Project Project plays the Hungry Brain on November 26.
Another Way to Skin That Cat
Last week I wrote about the digital-download service developed by
Bettina Richards at Thrill Jockey, but she's hardly the only person in
Chicago working on new models to help indies compete online. In early 2005
Justin Sinkovich, the former leader of Atombombpocketknife, launched a
digital-distribution service for Touch and Go Records that spares
its distributed imprints the difficulty of dealing with vendors
like iTunes and eMusic. Rather than sell their music directly, Touch
and Go uses its pull to get it into big online stores.
Sinkovich has long been an advocate for digital distribution: in 1999 he
cofounded the download service Epitonic and in 2003 helped start the
still-viable BetterPropaganda. He says that as a distributor Touch and Go
approaches downloads much like physical product, picking and choosing
among labels to keep the operation at a manageable size. In addition to
Touch and Go releases, Sinkovich handles music from Jade Tree,
Overcoat, Voodoo-Eros, Suicide Squeeze, Sounds Are Active, Estrus,
Asthmatic Kitty, In the Fishtank, 2.13.61, and his own label, File
13.
"Many of the labels we digitally distribute are labels that we were
already physically distributing," he says. "However, there are a couple of
labels that we are friends with that needed help with their digital
distribution, so we started working with them."
Touch and Go takes a small cut of the proceeds from its vendors --
Sinkovich says he's not at liberty to reveal how much -- but presumably
it's a fair trade-off for the distributed labels, which need extra
leverage when they're forced to compete with majors for visibility and
placement. "Many digital retailers are not willing to work directly with
smaller independent labels, so many indie labels have to be part of a
bigger group just to get into these digital stores," says Sinkovich.
Touch and Go lowers barriers to entry in other ways too. "There's a lot
of information that has to be attached to each track -- like the
identifying ISRC number, what countries it can be sold in, publishing
information, et cetera. Indie labels are usually really overworked as
it is, so they don't have the time to figure all these new
requirements out. We have more resources and systems built to manage
all this data, the audio, and the artwork for them."  Send a letter to the editor.
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