Simon Spillett

As the year draws to a close there's probably no better time to look back upon the state of the jazz scene in the UK in 2009 and to look ahead to what may lay in store as we enter the new decade.

Over the past twelve months I've seen, heard about and/or visited several jazz venues who have either reduced their presentations to once a fortnight (where they were once week), once a month (where they were once a fortnight), once every two months (where they were once a month) and so on. Those are the clubs that have survived. Others have simply faded from sight, an especially sad case of affairs where such long-standing ventures such as Herts Jazz (who closed after forty years) are concerned.

This week I visited a club which its promoter revealed was now possibly going to run annually, about as drastic a reduction as you can get ahead of shutting the thing altogether.

Consequently, as clubs reduce their presentations, work, already scarce, becomes rarer still, a situation which I've noticed with practical impact over 2009. My quartet has worked less than ever before and a great majority of my gigs have been as a guest soloist, another cost-cutting survival mechanism employed by cash-strapped jazz venues. The length and breadth of Britain, several of the clubs I'd hitherto visited annually I haven't visited at all. Some of this is my own fault, I admit, as I've been excluded from a number of venues in 2009 for reasons varying from my music being too aggressive to my having the temerity to point out on one gig that a certain musician wasn't able to play the music required of him. To this the promoters told me that - and I paraphrase - they didn't need my sort.  I wish I could say the same, but alas, I can't. Losing a single gig is losing one gig too many.

Amid all the clamour about a lack of a young audience for mainstream/modern jazz (from Southport to Southampton I've been asked if it's any different in the North/South/East/West), I think one very vital factor has been overlooked. Forget the audience, and even forget the musicians (we certainly have no deficit of young jazz players), what we need are younger promoters. In its valedictory press statement, Herts Jazz admitted that its committee was largely comprised of enthusiastic pensioners, who despite the best will in the world, had to balance a love of presenting live jazz with failing health and a jaded energy.

Elsewhere I have written about and discussed  (with such regularity that I'm afraid I have become a droning bore) the parlous state of  certain corners of British jazz. Whilst some musicians are garnering avid praise and setting down radically new music, often by fusing it with other genres and seeking to broaden the scope of what we call jazz, there remains a shameful neglect of important figures who, whilst they may not be new kids on the block, should be accorded more than mere lip service.

It's all very well dubbing Stan Tracey the Godfather of British Jazz, or hailing Peter King as the worlds greatest alto saxophonist (which I can't find reason to dispute), or citing Don Weller's authentic originality, or Bobby Wellins inimitable creativity and so on, but why, oh why aren't these performers working with a regularity that befits their status.

If anyone dares argue that these venerable figues have had their day, I'd counter that whilst they may well have emerged from a period in British jazz history in which there was a more healthy work load, they still have a very central place in the grass-roots of the current UK jazz scene. I'd hate to think that - horror of horrors - jazz should succumb to the same sort of ageist prejudice that is so prevalent in other areas of our daily lives.

Finally, I'd like to wish everyone who has supported my music this year a very healthy and happy 2010. I hope to see you at a gig soon.