In my last post, I wrote about how much of a developing player’s improvisation is made up of major and minor seconds. But as I continue writing my book on focus, I’ve been thinking about something bigger.
There seems to be a common thread running through the improvisation of many beginner and intermediate players. Their musical thinking tends to happen in very small units.
Often, that smallness shows up in the narrow intervals they play. Sometimes it shows up in the length of their short phrases or in how little ahead they’re imagining as they improvise. Different symptoms, perhaps, but all pointing to the same underlying habit.
Take intervals. Much of a developing player’s improvisation is built from major and minor seconds. Scales up and down, down and up, up and down.
But the same thing happens with phrase length. Many ideas begin and end within a measure or two. A small fragment. Another small fragment. Then another. Not much in relation to each.
That makes perfect sense when you think about it. When you’re first learning French, your conversations aren’t long stories filled with twists, turns, and thoughtful observations. You don’t yet have the vocabulary for that. You speak in shorter thoughts because that’s all you can do right now in the language.
Improvisation is much the same.
I learned so much from listening to Sonny Rollins. Maybe the biggest lesson was hearing the long arc of his solos. They often sounded almost composed. A theme, a variation, a short statement leading into a much longer reply, then back to the theme. There was a continuity to his improvising that made each phrase seem connected to what came before and what would come next.
Consider this about focus: The long French-told story and the long arc of a jazz solo both require deep concentration. Playing jazz well requires enough command of the jazz language that your musical reactions can move beyond simply trying to survive each chord/bar/key/form as well as going beyond trying to find the next correct note.
Do you spend too much of your mental energy looking at the next chord and mentally searching for notes that fit? The range of that focus is very small. Maybe one or two bars at a time. When your attention never extends beyond the next chord change, you can’t create the kind of longer musical arc that makes a solo feel connected and purposeful. A story.
Listen to your own soloing. Is it made up mostly of short, disconnected phrases? Maybe those phrases are scale fragments. Maybe they’re little memorized note combinations that work for a moment but don’t seem connected to anything larger. It’s range-of-the-moment jazz improvisation. Small-ball jazz.
By contrast, skilled improvisers have a longer-range idea in mind. Not necessarily a plan in the strict sense, but a sense of direction. And their musical muse is leading them along. And as everyone knows, any muse worth his salt can tell a great story! The player’s phrases connect. One idea leads naturally into another. The solo develops rather than simply tossing out notes measure by measure.
I received a Loft playing evaluation submission that included a recording of someone blowing over Just Friends. As I sometimes do, I recorded an example of my own playing over the tune because I think a sound file is worth a thousand words. The recording of my noodling through Just Friends is below. My intent is to maintain my focus throughout the improvisation so that various lengths of phrases connect the long arc of the solo to tell a worthwhile story.
When you improvise, focus on weaving phrases through the changes to tell your interesting story. Avoid the hunt for “right” notes and instead, express yourself through the interesting musical ideas. Easier said than done, I know, so explore some of Music Savvy’s offerings!
The next time you practice improv, play over a tune you know really well. For the moment, forget about whether every note perfectly fits the chords. It doesn’t matter. Just play. But as you play, think ahead. Think about where you want the phrase to go. Think beyond the next measure. If all you do is play rhythmically with various note choices, see if you can begin creating longer and longer musical statements. Is that easier singing?
You’re exercising just one aspect of improvisation here (“Constraint Exercises” if you know that lesson about stripping away complication that is within Improvisation Savvy course). Later you’ll bring everything back together. Better note choices, more harmonic awareness, and more complexity. But for now, see how long and connected your musical story can be while thinking only of that. Can you sustain it for four bars? Eight? Sixteen?
Listen carefully. How much of your improvisation consists of what I’m calling range-of-the-moment small-ball jazz: small intervals, short phrases, and disconnected musical thoughts? If the answer is “too much,” don’t just practice more notes. Practice extending the range of your focus.
The same focus that shapes a great solo shapes a great life.
What you're hearing in those short, disconnected phrases is the same thing that shows up in a scattered day: attention that never extends far enough to build something meaningful. The long arc of a Sonny Rollins solo and a life well-focused share the same root: the ability to hold a direction long enough for it to go somewhere truly meaningful.
My book Do More of What Matters Most is about building exactly that. Not just in your playing, but in your work, relationships, your priorities, and what you actually value in your life.
Also included: When you preorder the book, you'll get instant access to a short audio guided focus session. In about 15–30 minutes, it walks you through choosing one task that matters, defining "truly done," and staying with it to a real finish line. It's a quick taste of the book's method you can use today.
Ready to start doing more of what matters most? Get the book and the free audio session →






5 thoughts on “Focus: the fuel for better jazz improvisation”
Spot on. When I hear the term “licks” I envision maybe 2-bar or 4-bar phrases. I know practicing them is good for the soul and tool box but neither lazy or I just don’t know where I’d fit them in. I’d hate to get so locked into thinking about where to fit any of my learned lines, I’d forget about making music rather than reciting music. Good excuse?
There are two musicians I’ve listened to for decades – Eric Clapton and Charlie Parker. My favorite live album by Cream (Wheels of Fire) with Eric Clapton hits the nail on developing a solo over a longer period. Just listen to “Spoonful.” The other great is Bird. His flowing lines cascade over measures like a starling making aerobatic twists and turns in the sky. No sweat, perfection. Long lines, short lines, variations, themed, complex, sometimes at lightening speed, but always in the rhythmic pocket.
I have lots of work to do, and I’m buying your book and Jazz Savvy Master course, today.
Neil
Focus. Being locked in. The flow state. I’m aware that on any two consecutive days my playing can be very different. Is it because I’ve made a technical leap in a 24hr period– no, it’s because my focus is different– somehow. I want to know how to bring the same kind of focus I have when I practice to my improvising when I perform.
Jay, I answered your question here: https://musicsavvy.com/bringing-practice-focus-to-the-stage/
Michael,
I love you for this answer. It is true, I can feel that. I’m going there.
Jay
The enemy of focus is distraction. I am easily distracted. When working on something, I think of, or see something else that needs to be done. I struggle with staying at a task until it is completed, then attending to what else I need to do. I had not thought about that affecting how I improvise, until now.