Since its inception, free jazz has been one of the most polarizing styles of music, and it's managed to remain so for over fifty years. Actually, it's an approach to music more than a style, because like certain schools of visual art, the process is meant to be out in the open and noted. It came into being, at least partially, because players were tired of being boxed in by the use of songs and chord changes as improvisational contexts. Theoretically, free jazz is meant to be played without chord changes and to be based on mutual composition in the moment. But what results can often alienate listeners, mostly because there isn't time for any kind of editing.

Ornette Coleman is the first name that comes to mind when the genre is mentioned, and deservedly, because he has dedicated more time to it than any other musician. And because free jazz as a concept is just as divisive among musicians as it is with fans, many of Coleman's peers have said negative things about his music. I think the fact that he's still at it, after over fifty years, speaks for itself. In any event, it's clear that controversy and the induction of thinking are necessary results of what he does, and he know it. As a listener, I find that his best recordings are the ones in which he's in the company of the great Charlie Haden on bass: The Shape of Jazz to Come (1959), Change of the Century (1959), This is Our Music (1960), and Song X (1986), which also features Pat Metheny. Here's the title track: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d66Ytt2g7ns

Integration is also important on a purely musical level. In fact, the more time I spend listening, the more I think that there might not be anything else. If we look for inspiration to come as something entirely new, we'll probably be disappointed. It's much better to think of music as the result of a massive number of synthesizing moments, with each new product a potential basis for further bonding. It's also apparent to me that the more grounded an artist is in her or his particular discipline, the more likely that artist is to be able to fashion it into something original. But the process is a slow one, requiring patience. As William Blake put it, "Eternity is in love with the productions of time." And so am I, when they sound like Joni Mitchell, Pat Metheny and Jaco Pastorius playing "In France They Kiss on Main Street": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z7MCf7Ga3wc

One of the more challenging aspects of learning how to play jazz is that it requires someone to build a repertoire of techniques and vocabulary, but at the same time to learn how to interact with other musicians, and their conceptual ideas regarding harmony and rhythm, etc. It's a journey both inward and outward, in other words. One way that jazz musicians practice on their own (which is how nearly all their work is done - most serious jazz musicians rehearse very little) is with the use of play-along CDs. These are recordings of rhythm sections (bass and drums, with piano or guitar) playing the backing tracks for songs, but which leave room for the user to play the melody and to improvise through many repetitions (or choruses, as they're known) of the piece. These help to bridge the gap between the personal, introspective aspects of jazz with the collective ones which require paying close attention to outside information. (The best-known provider of these recordings is Jamey Aebersold. Here's a link to his Wikipedia page, if you want to know more: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jamey_Aebersold.)

The reason that I'm bringing this up is a very interesting project that has been put together by the great guitarist, Pat Metheny, which was certainly inspired by devices such as the player-piano, but which may also have a debt to play-along recordings. It is known as the Orchestrion project, and you can read and view about its nature, much better than I could explain it, here: http://www.patmetheny.com/orchestrioninfo/ . It strikes me as a very interesting development in the combination of human and technological elements in music, because it permits the musician to improvise, and to create the setting for it, simultaneously. As a concept, its potential is limitless; check it out.

Bright Size Life (1976) was Pat Metheny's first album as a leader. He was twenty-one at the time of its recording. It features eight original compositions and one by his mentor, the free-jazz saxophonist Ornette Coleman. The rhythm section is Bob Moses on drums, who plays brilliantly throughout, and the nonpareil bassist Jaco Pastorius, who provides his usual combination of virtuosity and thoughtfulness. Like many of Metheny's works, the record has a heartland theme (he's from a suburb of Kansas City), with titles such as "Missouri Uncompromised", "Omaha Celebration" and "Midwestern Night's Dream". You can definitely hear it in the music. It's open and spacious - the sonic equivalent of a long highway drive. The album foreshadows Metheny's career: the writing, the adventurous and unique playing, the generous roles he supplies to his collaborators. And what a career it's been. Without question, he'll be remembered as one of the very greatest of all jazz guitarists - one of the greatest of all jazz musicians, in fact. For an introduction to his work, this is the album.