Cultivatin' over killin'
changing our language around excellence, a new tradition, and new music out
What’s good everyone,
For as much as I have decried imperial violence from the US state in Julian’s Note, I have been convicted recently of one way I have perpetuated it myself, namely, my language. In jazz settings, it is very, very common to affirm other soloists (usually men) by saying “you sound killin’.” In business settings, it is common to affirm others by saying they’re crushing it. (In sports, it is common to say you’re destroying the competition. I’m sure you can fill in the blank for your areas that you know well too.) These are ubiquitous ways I have been taught to describe my excellence, and I have encouraged others to do the same - encouragement through violence.
I want to return to jazz in particular, since I spend a lot of my time there. How is it that a beautiful ballad, or an inquisitive solo over a fast tempo tune, should understood as “killin”? What exactly is being destroyed? Are we destroying false notions of ourselves? Are we destroying ugliness in the world? Are we maiming cynicism? Are we asserting dominance over evil with our beauty? These rhetorical questions sound silly because people don’t talk that way, even if all that I just asked is in fact happening. But I spell them out here on purpose for I wager that we don’t think to answer what exactly is “killin,” or what exactly we’re crushin’, because the act of destruction is worthy enough. And to take it a step further, in a patriarchal art form like jazz, which skews heavily cisgender male, using this language of death further identifies men with, and grooms men for, violence.
I was convicted of this the other day when on Instagram I heard the poet Ocean Vuong talk about the lexicons of violence in which the US socializes men.
His post challenged me to consider what it would look like to instead encourage other men in music, and people elsewhere in their vocational pursuits, in terms of nurture instead of in terms of destruction. What if I said to myself and to others that this solo was growing something in me, that that ballad was nourishing somebody in this room, that this performance was inspiring new life in this venue, that this record was bringing delight to the city?
Convicted by that hope and curiosity, I am starting a new tradition of bringing to my shows a “Seed Journal” in which audience members can write encouragements, prayers, and impressions from the JDR performance or Notes of Rest session they attended. This practice allows me to accumulate insights from listeners about what God was doing in that particular place and time amongst our particular group. Instead of focusing on celebrating the killin’ nature of performance, I want to celebrate the gathering’s unique contribution to shared life, renewal, hope, and tending. A musical performance may be ephemeral, but its impact can be eternal. I look forward to having you write a Seed Journal one day.
On the eve of Christmas, where God came to bring good news to all creation not through killing but through nurturing tender life, I am excited to bring you two new songs from my jazz-electronic group The JuJu Exchange, Bless the Hands and Snow Glow. We’re thankful to be on a compilation project called THE Indie Holiday: Grateful and Merry, alongside other up and coming independent artists. We made these tracks with your dinner tables in mind. Enjoy, and may you find the light and warmth of God in the rest of your 2024.
abundantly ‘til 2025,
Julian
What’s Next
Dec 20-21 JDR & Circle of Trust at Andy’s (Chicago)
Dec 23 JDR & Circle of Trust at Sherman UMC (Evanston, IL)
Dec 31 The JuJu Exchange at Dorian’s (Chicago)
Jan 6 Notes of Rest on Simplicity on Zoom (virtual on Zoom at 7.15p for paid subscribers)
Jan 10 JDR & Circle of Trust at St. Benedict the African
Save the Dates
Feb 22-23 Black Contemplative Prayer Summit - Notes of Rest on Feb 23 (Virtual)
April 19 BUST in Chicago at Goodman Theatre (scored the intermission)"
That seed journal is beautiful, and is such a great idea!