A review of Toronto’s 91.1 Jazz FM


How I hate jazz, let me count the ways.

  1. I hate the way it’s pronounced. Every letter pronounced with its own specific jazziness. The pursed-lipped J, the undulating A, and the buzzy Zs are horrible, horrible, horrible.
  2. Improvised solos aren’t that cool. It’s the musical equivalent of stepping on to an oil drum and masturbating. People shouldn’t applaud in the middle of a tune, nine times. What the fuck.
  3. Watching people close their eyes and snap their fingers and twitch as though approaching an epileptic fit is excruciating to watch.
  4. There’s, like, way too much saxophone.
  5. The holier-than-thou attitude of jazz aficionados is laughable. Please don’t tell me to “listen to that bass.” The notes they didn’t play? Fuck off.
  6. Avant-garde jazz is fiercely maddening. I’m all for experimental music, but this stuff might as well be called “You wouldn’t understand, jack!”

Turn that dial.

Obligatory Title Pun: JAZZ lovers? EFF EM.
Menu Readability: 911 is right. If I’m listening to jazz, It’s some kind of emergency.
Need to mention: I wrote this while listening to Lee Morgan. Not half bad.
What this place teaches me about myself: Hate it. I fucking hate it.