Selective Improvising: Choosing Less to Effect

Much about learning an instrument pushes us towards maximalism, the tendency to acquire more. We may learn one chord, but it is not enough to develop a full song—we need to learn more chords. We learn one scale, but suddenly the tune modulates—more scales. This is a necessary response for developing basic facility on the instrument, but it can also impair meaningful growth. This habit of collecting more is often reflected in the everyday behaviors of the developing instrumentalist: in their compositions, improvisations, the way they talk about the instrument and, consequently, the music.

It's a trend that requires a conscious reversal. Maximalism does not make good music—ask your ears as you play every note simultaneously on a piano. What you have is a sound, which has a place in music, but is more akin to a gimmick, something only for performance or decoration around the heart of the thing. On reflection, that first chord we learn may be much closer to the heart of the musical piece than the piled up extensions we are so proud of.

When you improvise, you might know every possible right note along with the substitutions you tend to use along the way, but you might only be there for two bars. The brilliant solution is to play everything faster, more notes, fit it all in somehow without an idea of where you are, of what music is transpiring. Suddenly there is no conductor monitoring the train.

It's a constant effort to remain conscious of this. It's something we can apply to common jazz progressions. Instead of a scale with every logical note, a selective approach exposes new colors and musicality.

Ex. 1

ii - V - I in F

A maximalist approach might tell us a few things about this progression. We could play the changes, triad or tetrad arpeggios, or play the notes of the appropriate mode. Instead, to play selectively, let's choose one chord to focus on and figure out a way to manipulate it that provides a more meaningful color.

For G-7, I've added a 6 to the minor arpeggio. Play this sound and listen to the difference in tension between this and a run of the scale. With this G-6 sound, we are aggravating the change, drawing attention to the tritone between Bb and E. We approach a darker sound. Good. Now we have an idea of what color this sound can provide; we now have both facility and purposeful implementation.

C7 houses a similar idea that is a reaction to the first bar's sound, just outlining a tritone substitution from Gb. Listen to the way these sounds work together to produce an effect on the otherwise simple changes.

Note. The hard resolution to F completely stops the momentum of the colors we had previously imparted. Keep this in mind when improvising—we don't need to resolve on the I chord after every ii-V.

Ex. 2

iiø - Vb9 - i in F-

Again, we will focus on reducing the number of notes utilized from the scale. Over Gø, we are using only the 1, 4, and b5 in relation to the chord. This gives us an abstract sound with lots of jumps in it that almost seems to suggest its own rhythm. Again, compare this to a Locrian scale run.

For C7b9, I continue the sound of the previous chord but resolve to Bb, which keeps some tension from the preceding phrase. There are some great examples of these sounds in Benny Golson's rendition of "Yesterdays" and in Duke Ellington's "Caravan."

Selective improvisation of this kind may be a gateway into new ideas where scales represent a wall. This approach can be applied to any progression by simply reducing the notes used and noticing the resulting color—and slowly, the palette may become full of interesting hues and pigments once again.