TERENCE Truth is, I don't think people... understood what it was I was doing at Shaffer. I wasn't there to conduct. Any f**ing moron can wave his arms and keep people in tempo. I was there to push people beyond what's expected of them. I believe that is an absolute necessity. Otherwise, we are depriving the world of the next Louis Armstrong, the next Charlie Parker. I told you that story about how Charlie Parker became Charlie Parker, right? ANDREW Jo Jones threw a cymbal at his head. TERENCE Exactly. Parker's a young kid, pretty good on the sax, gets up to play at a cutting session, and he f**s it up. And Jones nearly decapitates him for it. And he's laughed off stage. But the next morning, what does he do? He practices. And he practices, and he practices with one goal in mind: Never too be laughed at again. And a year later he goes back to the Reno and he steps up on that stage and he plays the best motherf**ing solo the world has ever heard. So imagine if Jones just said "Well, that's okay Charlie. That was alright. Good job." Then Charlie thinks to himself "Well, sh**. I did do a pretty good job." End of story. No Bird. That, to me, is an absolute tragedy. But that's just what the world wants now. People wonder why jazz is dying. I'll tell you, man - and every Starbucks "jazz" album just proves my point, really - there are no two words in the English language more harmful than "good job".
ANDREW But is there a line? You know, maybe you go too far and you discourage the next Charlie Parker from ever becoming Charlie Parker? TERENCE No, man, no. Because the next Charlie Parker would never be discouraged. ANDREW Yeah. TERENCE The truth is, Andrew, I never really had a Charlie Parker. But I tried. I actually f**ing tried, and that's more than most people ever do. And I will never apologize for how I tried.