It’s getting more and more difficult to categorise music. Once there was jazz, there was rock and there was punk. And others, of course, with their respective names. And if there was something in between, it could be labelled jazz-rock or punk-rock or whatever felt suitable and available. Today, musicians absorb and interpret so many influences that it’s impossible to classify a genre they play. And one has to be really careful not to offend anyone.

— I liked the way you jazzed — said I recently to a certain artist and I meant it. A fair comment, really, thought I.
— It ain’t jazz, dear. It’s our ownstyle.
— Sure it is. But can’t you call it jazz? I guess you can feel a vibey, souly, rhytm’n'bluesy, funky influences in there, so there’s certainly jazzy roots underneath, eh?
— It’s different.
— So what about those standards? Summertime? Sunny?
— You’ve got it all wrong.

I surely do. And I have to be more cautious before I open my whingy mouth next time.