What I learned from watching Listening to Kenny G

Among the issues splitting Americans into tribal camps, perhaps only abortion and guns are more divisive than Kenny G. (Or maybe not. My left-leaning family members are pretty much in agreement on the first two. But when my mom exclaimed, “I love Kenny G! He got me through so many difficult times,” after I told her I’d just watched a doc about the musician, she might as well have told me she’d voted for Donald Trump.) Since 1986, when the man formerly known as Kenny Gorelick first burst onto the scene with the album “Duotones” – launching the much-derided and equally beloved “smooth jazz” genre – the saxophonist has pitted elite music critics against the masses that have made this endearingly (gratingly?) geeky Seattleite into a world-renowned phenomenon.

And now the star of Listening to Kenny G, Penny Lane’s latest exploration into obscure subjects you didn’t know you were interested in until the filmmaker trained her lens on them. This time the doc-maker behind 2019’s Hail Satan? and 2016’s Nuts! spends quality time with the sociotropic G-man (“Am I animated enough?” “Or am I too animated?” he earnestly inquires during one interview) at home and in the recording studio; while weaving in archival material from the undeniably hard-working musician’s decades in the spotlight. And then juxtaposes all this upbeat, feel-good footage with put-down sit-downs with music critics and academics, who accuse the saxophonist of everything from outright cultural appropriation to masturbatory musicianship.

Love G or hate G, one thing does become crystal clear. As the man himself notes (no pun intended) in Listening to Kenny G – how we feel about his music says more about us than it does about him. As someone who grew up slamming to hardcore and dancing to new wave, I’ll readily admit that “easy” and “listening” were two words I never associated with music. And a welcoming do-gooder who wants his “smooth jazz” to resonate with the world is the polar opposite of punk – or canonical jazz for that matter. Kenny G is not exclusive, not part of the rebellious cool kid clique; his accessibility and conformity makes him both extremely popular and utterly loathsome. 

Indeed, one of the biggest revelations of Listening to Kenny G – which, in hindsight, I suppose shouldn’t be all that surprising given the saxophonist’s ability to connect with millions – is how much of an obsessive people-pleaser (as opposed to a cynical corporate sellout) the guy really is. (Watching him speak, I kept thinking of Sally Field’s infamous, “You like me!” at the Oscars, simultaneously needy and sincere.) Ultimately, Kenny G may be a controversial musical legend, but he’s likewise a globally ubiquitous Rorschach test. And that’s certainly something that’s not easy to hear.

Image credits: Wikimedia Commons and Bryant2000