Nat “King” Cole
broke out some Nat “King” Cole last night. what an awesome cat (er… jazz musician). the album is called After Midnight, and it’s just a quartet (plus a few guests) playing old, great standards.
then Route 66 came on… my first reaction—like any other normal person—was to hit skip immedietly. who wants to hear that tired old blues that’s been ruined by the cheesey rendition of virtually every cheesey cabaret or wedding singer? but for some reason I just listened, and then kept listening. it’s actually a great song, and great rendition. I’m pretty sure Nat originally made it famous. and there’s good reason.
something came through in that rendition of Route 66 that I’ve never heard before on that song (and I’ve heard that song hundreds and hundreds of times). it was originality. I could hear the originality in this song that’s been beaten into my head as one of the all-time cheesiest. you could hear excitement in the whole group. it’s so subtle, but definetely there. these days, you can hear the same song—and it can be with great musicians, and with a great singer—but something is always missing. it may be technically perfect and/or pristinely recorded, but something is missing. that thing is the energy of originality. without it, music sounds (sometimes ever so slightly) sterile and/or insincere.
that’s what keeps me from being able to listen to people who are amazing musicians, but are just doing things that are a throwback. whether it’s the 40’s or the 70’s, throwbacks just don’t do it for me. you can tell when something is a throwback even when you haven’t heard the music of the original time period before. because the throwback, however energetic and perfect it may sound, always lacks a simple, beautiful, and powerful element—originality.
Nat was an original.
