Thanks to Clarence Clemons' collab with Lady Gaga, Bon Iver's "Beth/Rest" and Kenny G's Saturday Night Live appearance, it's official: the sax is back.
It was something straight out of 1993: Saxophonist Kenny G on Saturday Night Live, unleashing a flurry of smooth-jazz notes from his soprano horn. The scene took place last month, but it could have been a ’90s-era parody: Remember the famous Sinatra duets sketch, in which Phil Hartman (as Ol’ Blue Eyes) castigates Jay Mohr (as Kenny G) for his terrible “screeching”? Except this Kenny G-on-SNL moment was the real deal—he joined musical guests Foster the People onstage for a live indie-pop performance on the show.
It’s understandable why the dudes in Foster the People wanted to partner with the curly-haired hornman—saxophones are everywhere this year. “The sax is back,” proclaimed one post on The Guardian’s website in June; later in the summer, Paste magazine declared 2011 the year of the saxophone. I wholeheartedly agree. From Feist and Bon Iver to Lady Gaga and Katy Perry, artists across the musical spectrum are using sax on their latest albums. Montreal-based Colin Stetson even scored a Polaris Prize shortlist nomination with his solo bass-saxophone album.
Of course, the sax never really went away. It’s been a part of popular music since before rock ’n’ roll existed—and, notably, was involved in the birth of rock. One of the instrument’s oldest players, 81-year-old jazz pioneer Ornette Coleman, is still blowing innovative new music on his trusty alto. What’s interesting though, is that the inspiration for much of this current strain of sax-ual healing (last sax pun, I swear) doesn’t come from the avant-garde/art-rock/modern jazz world, but from deep within that most maligned of musical genres: mainstream ’80s pop. Early in 2011, Destroyer (a.k.a. Vancouverite Dan Bejar) released Kaputt, an album that delved into smooth-jazz textures, replete with copious horn lines and slippery sax solos. Bon Iver followed suit on his self-titled album, which featured the closing track “Beth/Rest,” an ’80s power ballad punctuated by some delicate soprano sax.
While making her latest album, Lady Gaga’s craving for an authentic taste of the ’80s was so intense that she flew Bruce Springsteen’s right-hand saxman, Clarence Clemons, to her studio to cut some horn lines for a Boss-inspired tune called “The Edge of Glory.” Rather than get some faceless studio musician to play a Clemons-style solo on a tune that was already pushing the limits of extreme homage, she went right to the source and turned a cheesy appropriation into a compliment. Unlike Foster the People’s smirking Kenny G collab, Gaga’s nostalgic pairing actually works.
But what escapes many of these acts is the true meaning of ’80s-pop saxophones. Horns in that era were used as pure embellishment—a way to ease the listener into the music through sonic lushness and flaunt the excesses of big-budget production. Kenny G’s brand of jazz wasn’t called “smooth” for nothing. In direct contrast to his stark late-’70s masterpieces, Springsteen’s anthem-heavy 1984 album Born in the U.S.A. is packed with blazing sax solos—part of his overt attempt to dominate the airwaves (while also serving as a critical commentary on the excesses of 1980s America). It’s no surprise that when Bret Easton Ellis wrote American Psycho, he made his sociopathic über-yuppie Patrick Bateman a big fan of Huey Lewis and the News; the character singles out Johnny Colla’s sax playing and praises the band’s album Sports for its “clear, crisp sound and a new sheen of consummate professionalism.”
When Gaga and Foster the People—and to a lesser extent, Bon Iver—use saxophones in the mode of ’80s ostentatiousness, it’s inappropriate for the time in which they exist. Flaunting such excess flies in the face of global economic failures and the recent drum-circle consensus that what used to be the middle class ain’t so classy any more. It’s the argument that was levied against Kanye and Jay-Z for boasting about bling on Watch the Throne. Sure, Gaga might be aiming for aspirational and Foster the People are attempting satire, but their tone also comes off as irresponsible.
While Dan Bejar may have kicked off this trend, Kaputt is also the most intelligent use of ’80s saxophones in a year of throwback horn-blowers. Lyrically and thematically, Bejar’s album is largely about the fall of an empire, so it’s doubly ironic for him to use opulent orchestration as his soundtrack. His neat trick is letting the audience revel in songs that warn about revelling in the sort of songs in which they are revelling. Because of that, Kaputt stands as a far more accurate document of music and culture right now. While a Kenny G guest appearance may be a walking punchline, Bejar gets the last laugh with his sax appeal.
