It was about 25 years ago that we lost Jaco. All I have to do to bring tears to my eyes - 25 years later - is think about Jaco or hear his music in my head. My eyes sting with tears as I write this.
It is one of the most shameful facts regarding the place in which we live and the society that we have formed and tolerate, that Jaco - one of the most beautiful, revered, original and influential jazz players and composers of the last century - was beat to death outside a bar in Florida by a bouncer.
For that reason alone, I will detest Florida for the rest of my life. No, it doesn't have to make sense.
Jaco changed everything. For bass players, of course. But for jazz, too. His ability to propel music was extraordinary. His raw emotion came through in each note played. For perhaps the first time in any music form, the bass was a solo, up front instrument - and not just for a few bars near the end of the song. Every note was a revelation. His deep musical knowledge and breathtaking skills made him stand out in any group of musicians. Equal to the saxes and trumpets in melodic ability and like the keyboard in being able to evolve complex chordal passages. Lovely, ringing chords. Full of lush complexity. But his compositions may eventually be what people remember most. They need to be played more. Original and beautiful, each one like a jewel.
But really, is it possible to describe what Jaco means to jazz and to me? No. Of course not. Not even close. Not even if I go on for pages. Not even if I had a Ph.D. in Jaco. Really, you just need to hear him play. Like right now. It's easy to recall the growl of his fretless notes and crystalline chords and driving rhythms. And I can feel the tears start up again.
No comments:
Post a Comment