Wayne Shorter: Legendary Jazz Giant

It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say that my love of jazz can be traced directly to Wayne Shorter.

When you’re a young punk, it’s easy to lump genres such as jazz and classical into the category known as “music only old people like.” This was definitely the case for me growing up, and this probably wasn’t helped that the opportunities to hear those idioms were rare in rural Maine, beyond perhaps inexperienced school ensembles.

Having just dipped my toe into the classical pool at age 17 (thank you Mrs. Lavway), I found myself on Mt. Desert Island where I was singing in the All-State Choir. Local music vendors had brought in some instruments for kids to mess around with, and I stumbled upon a kid playing something that really caught my ear.

What the hell is THAT?

At the time, I’d been playing in rock bands for several years and knew my way around a guitar neck, but this guy was onto something else altogether. Advanced chords, walking a bass line around with his thumb while plucking a melody on top of it all… I had NO earthly idea what it what was going on, but I wanted in.

He and I ended up hanging out much of the week, talking about music, trading ideas on the guitar, getting high during lunch break (sorry Mrs. Lavway), etc. I had him list some jazz albums to out once I got back home. Miles and Coltrane were rightly at the top of the list, but I couldn’t find those in the catalog of the record club I belonged to. Columbia House DID have Heavy Weather by Weather Report, though, so I dutifully sent in my album order card. After a few weeks of waiting, it arrived in our mailbox.

I must admit it didn’t grab me at first… it’s not the edgiest jazz, and it definitely drifts into mid-70’s “smooth” territory. Having spent my hard-earned dockhand earnings on it, however, I stubbornly kept at it. Eventually something clicked in my head, and I found myself playing it 3-4 times a day. Joe Zawinul and Jaco Pastorius are absolute monsters. in their playing, though my ear was continuously drawn by the flawless and impeccably phrased sax. Wayne Shorter lulled me in, gradually turning up the kettle heat on the proverbial frog until I was absolutely hooked. Shorter set me on a path of discovery as I dug back in musical time to John Coltrane, Sonny Rollins, Ornette Coleman, Charlie Parker, and so on.

While my budding career as a serious jazz guitarist was cut short by a nasty tendonitis bout while studying at UMass Lowell, my love for the music never waned. While his virtuosic playing is what lured me in at first, his compositional style is what had the most lasting influence on me. Later in life, I had the pleasure of seeing Wayne play with Herbie Hancock in a lengthy set of considerably “outside” jazz. In spite of the murmurs of some around me who hoped they’d launch into Birdland or something gentler on the ear, I was in musical heaven.

And yeah, they didn’t play Birdland…

Wayne Shorter has left us today. He leaves a crater-sized imprint on the world, and we’re all the better for his musical gifts.

Rest in power, and thank you for the music.

Cover photo: CNN