Talking Jazz

The boy band Blue are doubtless still celebrating, probably in the company of various soap stars and footballers, Jordan, Jodie, Nicky Haslam and other such ornaments to society, the settling of their court battle with another group of the same name. Both, said the judge, can continue to call themselves Blue, as there was no likelihood of any confusion between the two, the others being ancient Scottish rockers. This is not, however, the first occasion of a word being used to signify rather different things.

One of my most prized possessions is a double album by Steps. While there is a place in my heart for any group that reminds the world of the genius of the brothers Gibb (even though the cover of "Tragedy" lacked some of the dynamic variation and palpable drama of the original), I am afraid that, alas, no credit goes to Lisa, Faye, Claire, H and Lee for Smokin' in the Pit, the recording in question. It goes to the original Steps, formed in 1979 by the vibesman Mike Mainieri, and featuring Michael Brecker, Don Grolnick, Steve Gadd and Eddie Gomez. I have often wondered that no legal issues had ever arisen from this unhappy coincidence, although I suppose it's unlikely that many tears have been shed by teenyboppers devastated to find that their precious new disc has "Tea Bag", "Lover Man" and "Recorda Me" on it, instead of "5,6,7,8".

The confusion does not stop there, however. Because of that baggy-trousered pipsqueak Justin Timberlake, anyone professing admiration for "Cry Me a River" now has to explain that they are talking about the beautiful ballad most perfectly recorded by Julie London and not Mr Timberlake's recent single, and that the sole similarity lies in the name, not the tune.

There is, I confess, an element of "we got there first" in this irritation at the expropriation of terms. Not only does "R&B" now mean something quite different from how Jake and Elwood Blues would have understood it, but they've got their hands on "swing" or "swing-beat" too. Given that swing in jazz is a word that cannot be explained literally but can be comprehended only through a lifetime of assiduous listening, this is thoroughly exasperating. Can't they find their own names?

In fact, if Mr Justice Laddie were to hear a case defending the right of jazzmen to exclusive use of their terminology, he would find plenty of instances of confusion. Anyone who has ever "taken requests" will be used to that most dispiriting inquiry, "Can't you play something a little more jazzy?" What they mean by that, always, is that they want you to play something with a rock or funk beat. At a wedding reception a few years ago, some drunken revellers came up to my trio with just such a request. Peering at my Lionel Grigson chordbook, one of the guests fixed his gaze on "Have You Met Miss Jones?", above which were the letters "AABA", signifying that the structure consisted of two "A" sections, one "B" and then another "A". He, however, read it differently. "Abba!" he shouted. "Play some Abba!" Fortunately, our pianist, Nick, of the cabaret duo Nick of Time and Jane Goodnight, was able to launch straight into "Money, Money, Money". Now, I suppose, the request would be for Justin Timberlake or Steps. Hmmph. Hands off our words, I say.