Be Yourself!

One of the joys of a lazy Saturday morning for me here in sunny South Florida is puttering around at whatever diversion I can find and listening to our local smooth jazz station. Down here, it’s 93.9 FM, Love 94. Especially enjoyable is listening to the Dave Koz radio show, which runs from 8:00 a.m. to 10:00 a.m., every Saturday, on Love 94. Dave is an incredible jazz saxophonist. His latest CD, Saxophonic, is a real treat to listen to. Many of the cuts play on the jazz stations throughout the day. Dave has a nice, friendly manner and is delightful to listen to. He also has special guests from the jazz world on his show. He seems to know everybody and gets them to talk about their work, their lives, and their influences. Dave sounds like one of those people that you just know you’d like if you could meet him in person. Check out his website to learn more about him.

Today’s show was a tribute to Luther Vandross. Smooth jazz is an interesting musical category as I often hear music on Love 94 that I wouldn’t have considered jazz, but when I really think about it, I’m not sure where you would categorize it. Of course, just as I say to my students when talking about literary theories and movements, labels don’t really mean anything. When Luther died way too soon this July, the headline of The New York Times article said, Luther Vandross, Smooth Crooner of R&B, Is Dead at 54. When I hear the word “crooner,” I think of Bing Crosby (To which my current students would say, “Who?”) but, again, what are labels? Luther was a great singer. He had a debilitating stroke in April of 2003 yet didn’t give up on his music as his wonderful song, “Dance With My Father” gave testimony to as a million seller a few months after the stroke. Despite his eight Grammy Awards, Luther may have been one of those singers we are aware of and whose work we admire but doesn’t really get the recognition he deserves. Listening to Dave’s tribute to Luther this morning, I was reminded of how good he was. I was also reminded of how often I had listened to him without always realizing it. There’s something so comfortable and comforting about his voice that you just go with its flow. When “Dance With My Father” came out, I found myself moved by it and even somewhat misty-eyed despite the fact that I never even knew my father (or maybe because of that—you can miss what you’ve never had). In an interview posted on CNN, Luther said that "It's not just about losing one's father, but about missing someone who is gone -- for whatever reason -- and the longing you feel for that moment in the past when you were together." Or for those times when you were never together.

The most interesting part of the show was when Dave played part of an interview he had done with Luther. Dave asked him what advice Luther had for young, aspiring musicians. Luther said to be yourself. Be original. Don’t sound like or be like anyone else if you want to last. He felt he was distinctive and wasn’t the next anybody when he started. He thought today’s record labels were looking for people who sound like popular and current groups and singers. While that might bring some success, it will be fleeting. That reminded me of the story every Elvis fan knows (everything reminds me of Elvis) about when he first went to Sun Records to cut a record. The lady at the desk asked him, “Who do you sound like, son?” Elvis replied, “I don’t sound like nobody, Ma’am.” That’s the real secret, isn’t it? It’s also not easy. I’m sure my writing students may think at times that I’m trying to make them all write the same way. If that means knowing grammar, usage rules, and how to spell, they are right. If it means “sounding” the same, or sounding like me (not going to happen), they are wrong. I remember a student showing me a poem he had written and saying that he had finally made a poem sound the way he wanted it to. He had discovered his voice. It didn’t mean he could or should stop then. Our voices continue to develop, mature, change, adapt. That’s the challenge of writing. It’s also the joy. I think I’m using this blog to rediscover my voice. I haven’t done any meaningful writing in a long time. Maybe it’s beginning again.

Thanks, Dave. Thanks, Luther. “Always and Forever.”