The importance of knowing jazz literature, is demonstrated in two stories concerning the late, great jazz saxophonist, Charlie Parker. When Charlie Parker first started out, he was musically naive. He did not know that music is a language with more than one dialect, or key, because the untrained ear knows no key. Parker didn't even know the jazz literature. But after one embarrassing incident, he realized what he needed to know and went home and clocked some 1,500 hours of practice.

The following is from Jamey Aebersold's Jazz Aids Handbook given out at his annual jazz workshops:

"I knew how to play two tunes in a certain key: the key of D for the saxophone and F concert," Parker said. "I learned how to play the first eight bars to Lazy River, and I knew the complete tune to Honeysuckle Rose. I never stopped to think about there being other keys or nothin' like that. So I took my horn out to this joint where a bunch of fellows I'd seen around were, and the first thing they started playing was Body and Soul. So, I go to playing my Honeysuckle Rose . . . they laughed me off the bandstand. They laughed at me so hard . . . I was about 16 or 17 at the time. I never thought about there being any more keys."

Years Later . . .

Parker may have remembered that discomfort when the situation was reversed: Parker was on stage when an inexperienced musician tried to sit in. "I was 18 years old and naive," John Welch said. "I was in New York City for lessons with Lennie Tristano. My first weekend in New York I went down to the village with my horn (trombone) to a club called the Open Door. There was a big sign in the window saying Jam Session - Sunday afernoon. A group was playing blues in F. So, I thought, well, great: I enjoyed playing blues in F. I put my case on the table, took my trombone out and just walked right up and started to sit in with them. My playing at that point was influenced by George Brunies, a Dixieland trombonist, so I started playing tailgate trombone with this group. They immediately brought blues to F to a screeching halt, and the piano player said, 'Cherokee in E', and took it at a tempo you wouldn't believe. I thought, well that's cool. I don't know Cherokee, and I don't play very well in that key, and I sure can't play that fast on the trombone, so I'll sit this one out. So, I went back to the table and laid the horn in the case, and sat there. Everyone was looking at me as though cancer had arrived. Finally a guy in the audience came over and started unscrewing my horn, taking it apart and putting it away in the case. He just looked down at me and said, 'Kid, you're obnoxious."

The Band that day at the Open Door was Bud Powell, Max Roach, Charles Mingus, Miles Davis and none other than Charlie Parker himself! I realized I had done something really terrible!

"They broke the set and Bird, (Parker), came over, right straight over to my table. He said, 'Look kid, what you were doing didn't really fit in with this group, but you were doing it well. You really were laying it down, and that's great! You just keep going.' Bird was so compassionate in that moment with me, when everyone else was ready to kill me. This struck me deeply."

Jamey Aebersold states in his handbook, "It is clear that Charlie Parker must have spent some time practicing the right things, listening to the right people, and in general, gathering as much knowledge about music as possible because he very shortly became a legend in his own time."

For more information about Jamey's Jazz Workshops, visit: Jazz Workshops.