Beauty is not a very reliable term. Some find beauty in Rammstein, others find it in Die Fledermaus. It is impossible to analyze the reasons, even though we are constantly trying to do so. We can't explain to other people why we like a certain picture, and dislike another. Apparently there was a time when Schubert was considered kitsch by some.
As for the truth, things aren’t always much clearer. Some claim that once in a while, a lie can be more honest than the truth. We often lie in order to convince people of our truth. We are looking for an intensity of truth, which can only be achieved by stylization and choreography. Werner Herzog calls this the ecstasy of truth - maybe Mahler would have liked that term, too.
When a band is locked inside a studio, trying to search for new music, they can't avoid pondering these subjects. Of course we want to achieve beauty, and of course we want to be as honest as can be. But how close to reality can a piano trio actually sound on CD? Can acoustic music be made real in this artificial space? Or, to phrase the question differently: why aren't we still amazed by the fact that a symphony orchestra starts to perform in our car as soon as we connect the iPod?
Kraftwerk found themselves in the exact opposite position. Synthesizers were at home in an artificial environment, and ultimately the speakers became the instruments the band performed on, and robots became the actual performers on stage. Some of their audience considered this to be beautiful, while others did not.
No matter when, no matter where: every musician is searching for true and real moments in music. As jazz musicians we seem to find them at times when we’re not desperately seeking them. Music can be found inside the spaces where convention wouldn't dare to look.
In other words: The confusion of terminology is truly wonderful. MAKE UP YOUR OWN RULES! This is jazz.