10 Reasons Why I Hate Jazz, By Miriam Nerval, A Pretentious Classical Musician

by Miriam Nerval

1) Jazz Musicians. You know me, I’m not one for blatant prejudice, or horribly sweeping statements (evidence backing this is currently unavailable), but Jazz Musicians as a whole really get under my skin. All such people I have EVER encountered have all turned out to be pretentious idiots, who seem to be living under the impression that they are God’s gift to music. They’re really not. “oooh look at us, we can improvise and play our quavers with a dotted rhythm”. Sweet. I hate you.

2) “The ability to play good Jazz is the only true measure of character”. A musician told me that, but not just any musician a JAZZ pianist, would you believe. How on EARTH could you back this up? For a start, where’s the line between “good” and “bad” jazz? I could spend weeks arguing the point that there is no such thing as GOOD jazz, but suppose for a minute there is, you’re not necessarily a better person for being able to play it. In fact, if you turn into a Jazz musician, there’s the destruction of your character right there. Besides, I bet Charlie Mason played some sick Jazz.

3) Being directed to swing my quavers. Arrrrrrrrgh! I DO NOT appreciate being told this. What’s wrong with straight quavers? I happen to be rather fond of straight quavers. I do NOT dig this swingin’ rhythm it creates. If you’re going to play a dotted rhythm, at least play it properly; as our favourite Baroque forefathers would have intended.

4) 12 bar blues. I once had a music teacher who raved about 12 bar blues, about what a notion of musical genius the structure was. ARE YOU KIDDING? Effectively, the basic 12 bar blue structure is based on the chords : I I I I IV IV I I V IV I I. That’s 8 bars of chord I, how can you be excited about 8 bars of the tonic chord?! Simple things I suppose, but still, what a bangin’ party. I wouldn’t blame you for thinking you CD player was stuck on repeat. Sometimes (if they’re feeling really wild) musicians can substitute the last chord for chord V, or even, wait for it IV, what CRAZY kids. Occasionally, they’ll replace the third I chord for any other chord of the scale! WOW! They really live on the edge, that DOES make for exciting listening.

5) Pitch bending on the clarinet. It sounds horrible enough on the sax, but really, was there any need to drag the clarinet into the “off the wall jazz techniques” it’s been exposed too. It has such a beautiful tone! BEAUTIFUL. Why do it? WHY?

6) The pieces have stupid names. One of stage band’s favourites to whip out when we let our guards down was entitled “Green Onions”. There’s a big difference between quirky, and shit. Somebody needs to tell them.

I think that alone establishes my point.

7) Jazz arrangements for non-jazz instruments, for example recorder. My teacher used to make me play these ear-sores in concerts, announcing to the audience it was to “prove recorders can do jazz too”. Why prove that?! I’m happy NOT to be associated with such things. I love recorders, but there’s no way they can compete with saxophones, you’ll look like a joke. Like all the other “jazz musicians” in town.

8 ) Blues scales. Never has a genre been less deserving of its own scale. Apparently diminution of intervals is pretty exciting, off the wall even. Since when has flattening a couple of notes been the signal of a revolution?

9) Improvisation. Woop woop, how flashy. How hard can it be? Really? Swing some quavers from the notes of their precious blues scale, over a chord like to be I IV or V (especially if you’re in 12 bar blues, my absolute favourite). Musicians have to improvise across the genres, so why is it considered so very new and exciting when in jazz?! I HATE it.

10) Jazz fusion. Jazz should not be allowed to “fuse” with anything. Containing it quickly and safely is the ONLY way we can stamp it out completely.

In the next episode of reasons why jazz ruined my life, more bitching’ on the topics of trumpets, stop time and Miles Davis.

I hope Malcolm doesn’t read this, I love a bit of Knapp.

In other news, I’m watching JFK with Kevin Costner in at the moment. I’d forgotten how fucking good this is, Lee Harvey Oswald was such a dish!


Author: National-Satanist

Just another blue-eyed devil...

3 thoughts on “10 Reasons Why I Hate Jazz, By Miriam Nerval, A Pretentious Classical Musician”

  1. My dear readers, as any of you know, there is an aural plague bit by bit, infesting our nation, growing ever-larger one person at a time. It’s wup-wup-filled thumping is more tortuous to a sound mind than a chorus of demons, and yet this maddening melody grows ever louder. As any one who has set foot in a high school or college campus knows, this musical menace is known as dubstep.

    According to Wikipedia, dupstep originated in southern London, which from my limited understanding of the area as an American living on the opposite side of the ocean, I can only assume is where the British equivalents of Hipsters reside. Created almost entirely by computer-based sound-editing programs, and as such, takes next to no musical talent to create, almost every single track consists of barely distinguishable sound effects and base drops. Tragically, like many other international horrors like the vuvuzela or tentacle porn, it spread it’s way to mainstream popularity by means of certain masochistic sub-cultures, much to the annoyance of the majority of the population with decent tastes in cultural tastes.

    As you might have guessed from my tone, I am not a fan. And not just because I’m tired of random idiots at school running up to me with a set of headphones telling me “Listen to that bass dude. It’s so dirty. Wait for the drop. Here it comes—wait, wait—yes. Uuunnnngh. That drop is so nasty.” To be fair, nasty and dirty are both appropriate adjectives for the genre.

    This throbbing and abrasive affront to music at least to me has always sounded like Optimus Prime getting raped as compared to actual music. In every track I’ve had the misfortune to hear – it seems like it’s fans like to play it on their speakers loud enough for me to hear half a parking lot away – there is no melody, no musical instruments, no lyrics or anything technically musical about dubstep. It’s just a bunch of of bass drops with that signature wob-wob-wob repeated in every single track, typically played at volumes loud enough to shatter glass – and typically give me a headache in the process.

    The annoying music is only compounded by the annoying fan base, which has to be one of pop culture’s most pretentious, extolling the virtues of this ‘genre’ at any provided opurtunity. While I’m sure there are some people who legitimately like dubstep, the vast majority that I’ve encountered aren’t in it for the music. You have the preppy scene kids who like it because it’s the ‘in’ thing at the moment. Then you have the junkies who listen to it while stoned for the sensory overload that follows, that or found murdering their brain cells a preferable alternative to listening to dubstep. The last, and worst of the bunch, are the hipsters, which in hindsight makes perfect sense. After all, what is more essentially hipsterish than crappy underground music that makes anyone with good taste ears start bleeding?

    At least in my opinion though, the worst part about dubstep is just how artificial and fake it is. Those words tend to get tossed around a lot with bad music, to the point I feel they’ve lost there original meaning to a lot of people. At least to me, music should always be about the human element of the equation, about the musician slaving over thier strings and songs, pouring thier passion into the music in hopes that an audience will share that same passion. It should take heart, drive, and above all else, talent to make a musician and music. That’s one of the reason’s I detest pop music as much as I do, as so much of it these days has lost that human element, where computers and auto-tune are increasingly the means of the genre. The less of that musicians touch, the more artificial and fake the music is.

    Dupstep is about as artificial and fake as music can be before it devolves into just noise. For all of it’s wub-laden bass lines and drops, in a typical dubstep track, there’s no melody, no lyrics, no tune, no song, and no music. It’s just a bunch of sound effects that anyone with a decent editing program on their computer can piece together and wait for the first idiot on a meth high on to declare it ‘nasty’. There’s no heart, no song, no music, no soul in the entire genre. It’s a tune for the tasteless, a melody for the mindless, a background noise for all of those who do not wish to trouble themselves with genuine music.

    Some like minded critics of have likened dubstep to this generation’s disco, and there is some merit in this comparison, seeing as they are both crappy passing fad sub-genre’s that only appeal for the most part to junkies and hippies/hipsters. However, I feel it doesn’t truly capture it fully, as even disco, in all it’s horror, could still qualify as music, while dubstep barely qualifies as an extended sound effect. No, dubstep is to music what Holy Virgin Mary was to art; an attempt by some talentless losers to degrade an entire art form to the point of bunch of imbeciles will consider fecal matter ‘culture’, and at least in my opinion, the sooner we stop letting the junkies and hipsters pollute the airwaves with this crap, the better.



  2. Many people have wondered whence come the waves upon waves of musical slush that invade decent homes and set the young people of this generation imitating the drivel of morons. Popular music is a Jewish monopoly. Jazz is a Jewish creation. The mush, slush, the sly suggestion, the abandoned sensuousness of sliding notes, are of Jewish origin.

    Monkey talk, jungle squeals, grunts and squeaks and gasps suggestive of calf love are camouflaged by a few feverish notes and admitted in homes where the thing itself, unaided by scanned music,” would be stamped out in horror. The fluttering music sheets disclose expressions taken directly from the cesspools of modern capitals, to be made the daily slang, the thoughtlessly hummed remarks of school boys and girls.

    The Jewish influence on American music is without doubt regarded as serious by those who know anything about it. Not only is there a growing protest against the Judaization of our few great orchestras, but there is a strong reaction from the racial collusion which fills the concert stage and popular platform with Jewish artists to the exclusion of all others. If they were superior artists, nothing against it could be said; they are only better known and racially favored in Jewish musical circles.

    “Let me make a nation’s songs and I care not who makes the laws,” said one; in this country the Jews have had a very large hand in making both. It is the purpose of this article to put people in possession of the truth concerning the moron music which they habitually hum and sing and shout day and night, and if possible to help them to see the invisible Jewish baton which is waved above them for financial and propaganda purposes. Just as the American stage and motion picture have fallen under the control of Jews and their art-destroying commercialism, so the business of handling “popular songs” has become a Yiddish industry. The Jews who captured it in the early days of exploitation were for the most part Russian-born Jews, some of whom had personal pasts which were as unsavory as the past of many Jewish theatrical and movie leaders have been exposed to be.

    In the early 1920’s, Irving Berlin, Leo Feist and other officers of seven music publishing corporations in New York, were charged with violating the Sherman anti-Trust law in a suit brought by the United States Government. The defendants, it was alleged, controlled 80% of the available copyrighted songs used by manufacturers of phonographs, player piano rolls and other musical reproducing instruments, and fixed prices at which the records or rolls were to be sold to the public. The corporations involved in the action were the Consolidated Music Corporation; Irving Berlin, Inc.; Francis, Day and Hunter, Inc.; Shapiro, Bernstein & Co.; Watterson, Berlin & Snyder, Inc.; and M. Witmark & Sons, Inc. – all of New York. The agreement which the United States Government sought to dissolve was alleged to provide that the defendants would make contracts only through the Consolidated Music Corporation which they had organized. The other 20% of the song business was controlled by other Jewish music houses not included in that special group.

    Talented singers, tuneful singing vanished. The Jew and the African period, being the entrance of the jungle motif, the so-called “Congo” stuff, and other compositions which swiftly degenerated into a rather more bestial type than the beasts themselves arrive at. Running alongside this swamp strain was the “ragtime” style of music which was a development of the legitimate Negro minstrelsy. Lyrics disappeared before the numerous “cake-walk” songs that deluged the public ear. Seductive syncopation swamped the harmony of the real song. Minstrelsy took on a new life; glamorous youths mutter dirges in low monotones, voluptuous females with grossly seductive gestures moan nasal notes no real musician can recognize.

    The first self-styled “King of Jazz” was a Jew named “Frisco.” The general directors of the whole downward trend have been Jews. It needed just their touch of cleverness to camouflage the moral filth and raise it half a degree above that natural stage where it begets nothing but disgust.

    America does not sing what it likes, but what the vaudeville “song-pluggers” popularize by repeated renditions, until the flabby minds of the audiences begin to repeat it on the streets.

    The “song-pluggers” of theater, vaudeville and radio, are the paid agents of the Yiddish song agencies. Money, and not merit, dominates the spread of the moron music which is styled Jewish jazz and swing. Non-Jewish music is stigmatized as “high-brow.” The people are fed from day to day on the moron suggestiveness that flows in a slimy flood out of “Tin-Pan-Alley,” the head factory of filth in New York which is populated by the “Abies,” the “Izzies,” and the ‘Moes” who make up the composing staffs of the various institutions. “Tin-Pan-Alley” is the name given to the region in Twenty-eighth street, between Broadway and Sixth Avenue, where the first Yiddish song manufacturers began business. Flocks of young girls who thought they could sing, and others who thought they could write song poems, came to the neighborhood allured by the dishonest advertisements that promised more than the budding Yiddish promoters could fulfill. Needless to say, scandal became rampant, as it always does when so-called “Gentile” girls are reduced to the necessity of seeking favors from the Jew. It was the constant shouting of voices, the hilarity of “parties,” the banging of pianos and the blaring of trombones that gave the district the name of “Tin-Pan-Alley.” All America is now one great Tin-Pan-Alley, its entertainment, its youth, its politics, a blare of moronic Judaism.



  3. The same thing is happening to music as is happening to beauty in a world dominated by the shavelings. The Jew has created a new inversion of values and replaced the loveliness of music with noises.



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