Contrary to a popular rock ‘n roll belief, some musicians are better off not burning out quickly or fading away. Like a fine whiskey or an endearing ballad, jazz musician only get better with time. Sure, their technical skills may diminish a little, but there is something more worldly and expressive that manifests in musicians with more than a few decades notched into their instruments. At least that’s what I saw in concert with:
- Jon Lee Hooker with a voice sounding like the beginning of time, seated and playing his guitar through an ongoing standing ovation.
- Ruben Gonzalez from the Buena Vista Social Club, accepting the warm, extended hands as an assistant gently leaned his frail body into the front row during the second encore.
- Jimmy Heath setting down his saxophone to rest against the piano; every once in a while leaning into the microphone to scat out “Johnnie Walker… Black Label.” (I’m not sure what he meant, but he sure sounded damn cool.)
Then there’s Sonny Rollins, the last of the lions, the man who played with everybody and established himself as the best saxophone player among them, the last link to the Golden Era still stretching a career into the present.
I didn’t know what to expect when I sat down for one of his concerts a couple years back. He already canceled the show once due to illness. But no matter. Even though it was Halloween, the city of Minneapolis named it Sonny Rollins Day. And when he came on stage to accept the certificate, there was a hitch to his step. He didn’t look much like a lion. He even looked a little out of place with the rest of the band whose combined ages probably didn’t add up to his 75. So when Sonny set down the plaque and picked up his horn, I was somewhat prepared for a comfortable evening with well-known classics. What I got right at the beginning was the title song to his new album, “Sonny Please,” indicating to me, indicating to the audience, indicating to sands of time that even though his career was nearing the dying light, he had no intention of going quietly.
“Johnnie Walker… Black Label.”
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