In Memoriam

In Memoriam – Glenn Walker

Glenn Walker“When you inspire one person you have already changed the world,” Sabina Nore wrote. Through his influence Glenn E. Walker earned the distinction of changing the world many times over. A writer, teacher and pop culture maven, Mr. Walker passed away far too soon on December 6th.

While writing professionally, Glenn still provided his tutelage to local writers through the South Jersey Writers’ Group. While serving as Membership Director he also led the group’s blogfests. In fact, he’s the person who introduced me to the organization.

Had it not been for Mr. Walker’s encouragement and support you wouldn’t be reading this right now. Glenn served as an invaluable inspiration to me when I began pursuing serious writing back in the early 2000s. Even now whenever I write something, I still ask myself, “What would Glenn say about this?” Three drafts later I’m still asking the same question.

Anyone who writes knows that it’s not a field of endeavor for the thin skinned. We can all recall either receiving harsh comments or outright discouraging critiques about our work; but never from Glenn. He always provided constructive feedback. The noblest intentions motivated his observations. Glenn understood that the most important task of a critic is to inspire a writer to write.

I first met Glenn at a critique group. His passion for writing really impressed me. Whether reviewing science fiction, political dramas or treatises on gardening, he showed the same enthusiasm. That love of craft carried over into his support of aspiring writers.

The highlight of my own writing career involved Glenn. He always promoted writers through “Writer Wednesdays”, “Follow Fridays” and by re-tweeting blog posts. When I last saw Glenn during the summer of 2015, I thanked him for his re-tweets. In fact, he’d just re-tweeted a pseudo-obituary I’d written about Pink Floyd’s recent break-up. With his most matter-of-fact tone he replied, “Hey, we’re a writing community. We support each other. It’s what we do.” I’ll never forget what he did next. Glenn shook his head and in his bass baritone said, “Man…that one on Pink Floyd.” I’d used the names of various songs from the band’s catalog to tell the story in that piece. I remember telling a friend at the time: “Something I wrote impressed Glenn Walker! This is my Nobel Prize in Literature!”

Malala Yousafzai once instructed: “Let us pick up our books and pens. They are our most powerful weapons. One child, one teacher, one book and one pen can change the world.” Like a great writer, Glenn didn’t tell us: he showed us.

I extend my deepest condolences to Glenn’s family, friends and fans.

 

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In Memoriam – Clyde Stubblefield

One of the soldiers on the forefront of the 1970 funk revolution has left us. The original “funky drummer” himself, Clyde Stubblefield, passed away on February 18th.

Mr. Stubblefield earned the distinction of being the most listened to, but least recognized performers in the history of music. His stellar instrumental break on the appropriately titled James Brown 1970 masterpiece, “The Funky Drummer” became legendary. The Hardest Working Man in Show Business called it when he instructed the drummer: “Show the people what you got. Don’t turn it loose, ‘cause it’s a mother.” The break later became the most sampled drum track in the Hip-Hop genre. It even crossed over into to pop music when Sugar Ray’s drummer mimicked it on their 1997 hit “Fly.”

It would be unfair to call Mr. Stubblefield a “one grove wonder.” The title of one of the songs on which he performed, “Get Up, Get Into It, Get Involved”, could have described his approach to drumming. He laid down superb beats during his tenure with the Godfather of Soul. Some of the most notable included “I Got the Feelin’”, “Mother Popcorn” and “Cold Sweat.” Perhaps his phenomenal sense of rhythm inspired Mr. Brown’s decision to “give the drummer some” on the extended version of the latter.

While not as famous as the “Funky Drummer” break, Mr. Stubblefield’s re-entry with the congas on the simulated live version of “Give it Up or Turn It Loose” deserved more recognition. In that moment, he challenged Motown session man Benny Benjamin for the title of heaviest Rhythm & Blues drummer. At the same time, he presaged the more assertive approach to R & B style drumming later associated with Chic’s Tony Thompson.

It seemed fitting that Mr. Stubblefield contributed his talents to “I Don’t Want Nobody to Give Me Nothing (Open Up the Door I’ll Get It Myself).” Whenever Mr. Dynamite provided him the opportunity to showcase his skills, Mr. Stubblefield took advantage. Because of that, and thanks to the practice of digital sampling, he just may have played on more tracks with more artists than any other session man in history. That’s a great accomplishment for someone who started out as nothing more than a “funky drummer.”

I extend my deepest condolences to Mr. Stubblefield’s friends and family.

 

In Memoriam – John Wetton

On “days like these” I “lament” that I have “nothing to lose.” Vocalist, bassist, and all around Progressive Rock musician extraordinaire, John Wetton, passed away this January 31st. Only “Providence” can explain why we shall hear his innovative bass lines and stellar vocals “nevermore.” I wish someone would “hold me now.”

I’ve been listening to Mr. Wetton’s music for over “thirty years.” Whenever I had “time kill” “in the dead of night” I’d pass the time listening to his live work with King Crimson. Upon discovering the band’s live box set, The Great Deceiver, I’d never felt both so inspired and intimidated by a fellow bass player. I’d marvel at the myriad different arrangements to the classic “Easy Money.” His improvs would rival those of any jazz musician. His capability to push the boundaries of an already revolutionary genre exhibited the scope of his proficiency.

Mr. Wetton’s innovative approach to the bass guitar could only be rivaled by legendary Motown session man, James Jamerson. Like the latter, he chose an early 1960s Fender Precision Bass as his means of expanding the instrument’s traditional boundaries.

In an encomium to the legendary Motown session man, bassist Anthony Jackson explained the three components of genius:

  1. Original style.
  2. The technical proficiency to execute that style.
  3. The persistence to push that style onto an unreceptive world.

For that reason, Mr. Wetton earned a place in music history among the likes of music’s luminaries. Yes, he even deserves to be ranked with James Jamerson.

While a laudable achievement in itself, Mr. Wetton even expanded pop music into an art form. The most memorable musical moment of my life occurred the first time I listened to Chasing the Dragon. Like many of his fans, the band Asia served as my first exposure to his talents. This 1994 live album opened with “Heat of the Moment.” Instead of the high power rock anthem I knew, Mr. Wetton performed it as an acoustic ballad. I never could’ve imagined delivering it this way. His slow somber vocals gave the track a new character. To my amazement it even sounded much better than the original.

As a performer who spent most of his career playing progressive rock, many of his songs are unfamiliar to the larger public. It’s truly a shame that more people haven’t been exposed to such outstanding tracks as “Rendezvous 602”, “Battle Lines” and the greatest instrumental track ever recorded, “Red.” The eponymous UK album is still one of the best recordings released in any genre.

What King Crimson fan doesn’t hear John Wetton’s lugubrious vocal from “Starless” run through his/her mind while watching the setting sun?

            Sundown. Dazzling day. 

            Gold through my eyes.

            But my eyes turn within; only see

            Starless and Bible Black.

            This seems a fitting epitaph for those of us who adored his music.

I extend my deepest condolences to Mr. Wetton’s friends, family and fans.

In Memoriam – Epitaph: Greg Lake

Confusion will be my epitaph

As I crawl this cracked and broken path

If we make it we will all sit back and laugh

But I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying.

From “Epitaph” by King Crimson. Lyrics by Peter Sinfield

 

Today Progressive Rock fans shed tears at the loss of a legend. One can only react with confusion that for the second time in 2016 a member of that paragon of progressive power trios Emerson, Lake and Palmer has left us. On December 7th, Greg Lake passed away less than a month after celebrating his sixty ninth birthday.

It is ironic to write that the music scene will not be the same following his passing. The music scene has not been the same since he entered it. We first heard Mr. Lake’s extraordinary talents on King Crimson’s eclectic masterpiece, In the Court of the Crimson King. The 1969 album sounds ahead-of-its-time even today. That’s a remarkable observation for a record originally released almost fifty years ago.

Mr. Lake’s vocals augmented Crimso’s innovative style; and the band’s repertoire provided him with myriad opportunities to display his capabilities. He added soft crooning to the ethereal “I Talk to the Wind” and haunting vocals to the lesser known “Moonchild.” His somber rendition of “Epitaph” brought the disillusionment in Peter Sinfield’s lyrics to life. That’s quite a challenging task with words this powerful.

The wall on which the prophets wrote

Is cracking at the seams.

Upon the instruments of death

The sunlight brightly gleams.

Mr. Lake’s vocals made King Crimson a Classic Rock icon. His bass playing made the band legendary. During “21st Century Schizoid Man” he, guitarist Robert Fripp and drummer Michael Giles performed the best instrumental jam ever recorded. He anticipated Heavy Metal bass lines through his thunderous bottom end on the live staple “Mars, the Bringer of War” from Holst’s The Planets. The origins of progressive rock came about through the melding of classical music with hard rock in tracks such as this one.

Mr. Lake achieved more musically during the two albums he recorded with King Crimson than most could in several lifetimes. Had he retired following his all-too brief stint with the band, he still would have assured his place in music history. To the delight of Progressive Rock fans, he harbored higher aspirations.

Mr. Lake joined up with keyboardist Keith Emerson and drummer Carl Palmer. The three established a veritable Prog Rock super group. In addition to entertaining audiences with his singing, bass playing and even his proficiency with the guitar, he used the opportunity to showcase his songwriting skills. Cuts such as “Lucky Man”, “Still You Turn Me On” and “From the Beginning” showed that even “serious” musicians could resonate with mainstream rock audiences.

Mr. Lake had the misfortune, to use that word loosely, of working with poet Peter Sinfield. In addition to writing for King Crimson, he also penned the words to ELP’s tour-de-force “Pirates.” Because of the man’s talents Mr. Lake’s skill as a lyricist often gets overlooked. But who doesn’t recognize the opening to “Lucky Man”?

He had white horses

And ladies by the score

All dressed in satin

And waiting by the door.

Oh, what a lucky man he was.

Mr. Lake achieved the pinnacle of his lyrical abilities in “The Sage”; a track he added to the band’s version of Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition. The haunting opening stanza eloquently established the mood.

I carry the dust of a journey

That cannot be shaken away.

It lives deep within me

For I breathe it every day.

Like all progressive rock musicians, Mr. Lake always sought opportunities to expand the boundaries of his trade. During the late seventies, he experimented with an eight string electric bass guitar. He used it to full effect on Works Live. Since he couldn’t play both bass and guitar while on stage, the extra strings made the instrument sound like a bridge between the two. It gave early ELP classics like “Knife Edge” and “Tank” a fresh sound.

His musical peers showed immense respect for his skill with the instrument. It seemed fitting that the group which pioneered the “concept album” would invite Mr. Lake to join them. Following John Entwistle’s passing, The Who recruited him to play bass on their 2004 track “Real Good Looking Boy.”

Of course, Mr. Lake will best be remembered for his vocal talents. In addition to rock, he could sing jazzy tunes like “Show Me the Way to Go Home” and “Step Aside” with equal dexterity. He added an excellent Bob Dylan impersonation to ELP’s cover of “The Man in the Long Black Coat”, as well.

It’s sad that the person who wrote the Christmas staple “I Believe in Father Christmas” would pass away during the Holiday Season. I send my deepest condolences to Mr. Lake’s friends and family during this difficult time.

Just possibly, Mr. Lake wrote his own epitaph. For “The End” section of Pictures at an Exhibition he crafted the following lyrics.

There’s no end to my life   

No beginning to my death

Death is life.

In Memoriam – Keith Emerson

“From the beginning” it seemed as though “The Three Fates” predestined Keith Emerson to be an “iconoclast”. “The hand of truth” deemed that Mr. Emerson would become a veritable “tiger in a spotlight”. He approached the keyboards like Jimi Hendrix played the guitar: tilting and contorting the instrument and performing “the miracle” of melding feedback into a melody. Other keyboardists had to “step aside” after he entered the music scene. Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s sheet music became like “paper blood”. While I never possessed the skill to play Mr. Emerson’s compositions, I’m a “lucky man” for having had the opportunity to listen to them. I have immense admiration for the composer.

Keith Emerson passed away at the age of 71 this past March 10th. I send my deepest condolences to his friends and family during this difficult time. I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him personally. As with any artist I feel like I got to know him a bit through his work.

I first encountered his music in the early 1980’s. Synthesizer driven ditties were ubiquitous staples of pop radio. Based on what I heard over the airwaves I figured the instrument rather facile to master. As I matured musically and began exploring Progressive Rock, Mr. Emerson proved me wrong. He approached the instrument as a substitute for an entire orchestra on covers of “Fanfare for the Common Man“, “Mars, The Bringer of War” and “The Barbarian”. In fact, I first heard a rock group play with an orchestra on ELP’s 1979 release In Concert. The Third Movement from Mr. Emerson’s “Piano Concerto Number 1” inspired me to learn more about Classical Music.

Not that Mr. Emerson’s capabilities were limited to that one genre. Had he so chosen, he would’ve made an outstanding Jazz Pianist. His playing on tunes such as “Step Aside” and “Show Me the Way to Go Home” exhibited his range with the instrument. One should also include his proficiency with ragtime playing, as well. He delivered a fine rendition of Scott Joplin’s “Maple Leaf Rag” on ELP Works Volume Two. With the aid of a synthesizer he even covered Blues legend Freddie King’s “Hideaway”; a tune Eric Clapton also recorded.

In addition, the man had a fantastic ear for pop music. I can still recall the days in 1986 when Emerson, Lake and Powell’s “Touch and Go” received continuous play on MTV as well as the radio. His playing on “Karn Evil 9 First Impression, Part Two” served as a unique melding of classical and pop music. Of course, his addition of the modest synthesizer solo at the end of “Lucky Man” gave that track a unique character.

While not known as a balladeer, Mr. Emerson wrote the music for some of my favorites. “Farewell to Arms” from 1992’s Black Moon earned a special place in the band’s catalogue for its message. 1986’s “Lay Down Your Guns” featured the most intricate musical arrangement I’ve ever heard on a song about a troubled romance.

Musicians such as Mr. Emerson convinced me that the keyboards were too challenging for someone of my limited abilities. After trying to learn the instrument for years, to the relief of friends, family and neighbors, I gave up in favor of the bass guitar. The man even intimidated me at that! The bass line he played on his Moog during the “Battlefield” section of “Tarkus” on the live 1974 album would’ve given Bach a run for his money. The fact he managed to do this with one hand while playing the chord progression on an organ with the other made this achievement even more remarkable.

In addition to these outstanding attributes of Mr. Emerson’s abilities, he truly excelled as an arranger. The way he coordinated all the parts to “Pirates” made that song one of the best ever recorded. I liked how the orchestra, the band and the melody all worked together in such a way that didn’t clutter the mix. While a great accomplishment, he reached his true apex on 1994’s In the Hot Seat. On that album he directed an arrangement of Bob Dylan’s “The Man in the Long Black Coat”. (Yes, you read that correctly. Even ELP covered Bob Dylan’s music.) While ELP played numerous classical pieces, I always felt this one their best non-original recording.

I did have one issue with Mr. Emerson. On the cover of 1979’s Love Beach he showed off his washboard abs. The man was a classically trained rock musician who spent a lot of time on the road. The fact he managed to keep himself in that kind of shape took away any excuse I had for letting myself go when I worked as a performing musician.

The next time I hear Greg Lake utter the iconic line, “welcome back my friends to the show that never ends” I’ll feel a tinge of sadness. Perhaps Mr. Lake said it best in the lyrics he wrote appropriately enough for “The End” section of “Pictures at an Exhibition.”

There’s no end to my life

No beginning to my death

Death is life.

C’est la vie.

In Memoriam – William Golding

This past September 19th marked Sir William Golding’s 114th birthday. While Golding is best known for his iconic, 1954 masterpiece Lord of the Flies, he was much more than just a “one-book wonder”. Some people still aren’t aware the Swedish Academy presented him with the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1983. They cited the following reason for bestowing that honor: “for his novels which, with the perspicuity of realistic narrative art and the diversity and universality of myth, illuminate the human condition in the world of today.” While that’s quite a statement to comprehend, it sums up Golding’s contribution to his field accurately.

Like many, Lord of the Flies served as my first introduction to his work. Somehow I managed to escape both high school and college without reading it. In the same way that Eric Clapton “received” Robert Johnson, that’s how I felt when I encountered this novel. The exquisite descriptions and unique characters drew me in. Every time I read it I’m horrified anew at the boys’ journey into barbarism. Its final pages contain the best ending ever written. The only books containing conclusions that rival it are The Paper Men, The Inheritors and Pincher Martin all written by…William Golding.

Upon completing Lord of the Flies, I resolved to read all of Golding’s novels. They served to both inspire and intimidate me. I learned that, as someone once said of Peter Sellers, “The man is so talented you can’t imitate him: you can only admire him.”

In addition to an inimitable skill at crafting endings, Golding excelled at establishing voice. In The Inheritors he wrote in the primitive dialect of Neanderthal man; at the same time, he kept the story engaging and comprehensible. (I’m embarrassed to admit, it took me longer to figure out what he meant by “floating logs” that it should have.)

As if utilizing that style of narration didn’t challenge the author enough, he concluded his career by writing a three-volume sea trilogy, To the Ends of the Earth. The story centered on a British vessel bound for Australia in 1814. He told most of the story in the form of a journal written by a young aristocrat. It read exactly like one and took me a while to adjust to the archaic language. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like to write it. At one point Golding changed the point-of-view to that of a clergyman. He kept the dialog and narration consistent throughout the story. Keep in mind he did so through three books, not just one.

It’s impossible to select a “definitive” William Golding novel. The Spire remains my favorite, though. While a simple story (by Golding standards) of a man’s Quixotic vision of building the world’s tallest cathedral tower, the author worked in complex characters. The engineer of this project suffered from vertigo. While believing himself chosen by God, Dean Jocelyn received his post due to some very secular behavior from a relative. Golding built the conflict between faith and reason brilliantly.

I admire Golding for many things. If I had to select one that I would pass on to others, it would be the man’s commitment to his craft. He wrote in his journal every day. On June 18, 1993, he expressed his intention to revise the first draft of his work-in-progress, The Double Tongue. He passed away the following morning at the age of 81.

Whenever someone who inspired me passes away I’m reminded of Dr. Seuss’ words, “Don’t be sad because it’s over, smile because it happened.” Literature is a much richer field today because of Golding’s myriad contributions.

Thanks, Bill.

In Memoriam – Pink Floyd

August 16, 2015 marks a time of “sorrow”, but a “great day for freedom” for David Gilmour, apparently. He decided it was “time” to “run like hell” from Pink Floyd; a band he’d played with for the last 48 years. “Wot’s…uh the deal?” I knew it had to happen “one of these days”, but I’m “lost for words.” He’s made similar comments before, but this time he says it’s “absolutely curtains.” I harbored “high hopes” the band would reunite following the release of 2014’s The Endless River: the first occassion we’ve heard “signs of life” from the group since Live 8. I’m upset that album will serve as “the final cut”.

Does Mr. Gilmour have “brain damage”? Dave, “hey you”! Before you “have a cigar” I “wish you were here” “in the flesh”. “What do you what from me?” you wonder. I’d like you to “take it back.” Alright, I need to “breathe.” I’ll get “comfortably numb” soon. For now, I have some things to say “on the turning away” from one of rock’s greatest groups.

Pink Floyd’s fans were like “sheep”. We’ll all “remember a day” we first heard them. From then on out it was “us and them”. Those were “the happiest day of our lives”. They were “one of the few” iconic bands of my generation. Their influence is undeniable; one can hear “echoes” of their sound anytime a guitar player picks the strings between the “empty spaces” on a Fender Stratocaster. “What shall we do now?”

We’ve been “round and around” this before. I hope Mr. Gilmour reconsiders before he goes to “the great gig in the sky”. “It would be so nice.” Maybe the band will be “coming back to life” at some point. While I think the guys are “poles apart” I’ll “keep talking” about how “the show must go on”. The way things look now, another Pink Floyd album won’t come out until we see “pigs on the wing”.

In Memoriam – Chris Squire

I still remember blowing out the rear speakers in my car listening to 1973’s Yessongs. I’d just purchased the remastered CD. I turned up the bass volume and cranked it. Having the opportunity to listen to a few minutes of Chris Squire’s basslines from Yes’ best days made it well worthwhile.

Chris Squire, bassist and founding member of Yes, passed away this June 27th. I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him personally. As a life-long Yes fan, lover of Progressive Rock and bass guitarist, I do feel like I got to know Mr. Squire somewhat through his music.

Mr. Squire didn’t just have an “original” style. The man revolutionized the approach to the bass guitar. In his proficient hands, the instrument transcended its original bounds. It became both a melodic and harmonic instrument. Mr. Squire transformed it into a compliment to and a rival for the lead vocals, lead guitar and keyboards. That was an astounding accomplishment while playing alongside virtuosos like Jon Anderson, Steve Howe and Rick Wakeman.

It’s difficult to define Mr. Squire’s style. Not to overdo it, the word progressive would be an apt description. When it fit the song he played “traditional” bass lines extremely well. Thundering chops like the bass line from “Roundabout” came blasting out of his amplifier with ease. He added a jazzy walking bassline to the rock anthem “Yours in No Disgrace”.  Always seeking new musical horizons I enjoyed his use of a fretless bass on a number of the tracks from 1983’s 90125.

I’ll remember him most for his myriad innovations to the bass guitar. He took the instrument to a completely new level on “The Fish”. On that track, every instrument except the drums and the vocals was a bass guitar. I’ve been listening to that song for over 40 years. It impresses me just as much now as it did the first time I heard it. This unique approach to the instrument laid the groundwork for future innovators like Jeff Berlin and Michael Manring.

Mr. Squire was the first bassist I ever heard use distortion pedals. To this day, I feel he’s the bass player who used them the most creatively. To paraphrase the lyrics from 1994’s “The Calling”, “In the beginning is the future.” His use of a Wah-Wah pedal on 1969’s “Survival” gave fans a sample of the many creative practices to come. (The riff sounds uncannily like the chorus to the 1971 Led Zeppelin classic “Stairway to Heaven”.)

Playing the bass guitar through a Leslie Amp on “And You and I” really stood out as original. I’ve never heard another bassist play the instrument with a rotating speaker effect. I doubt they would do so as well, either.

I don’t typically like it when bass players use picks. Mr. Squire was an exception. This choice as well as the use of a 1964 Rickenbacker 4001 Bass defined his signature sound. The man innovated throughout his entire career. In the late 1990’s he used a Carvin 6-String Bass. He tuned the low B-String down to A.

My deepest condolences go out to Mr. Squire’s friends and family.

In Memoriam – Jack Bruce

I felt an immense sense of personal loss today. I received the news that Jack Bruce passed away. It shows the monumental power of music that I could experience such feelings of sadness over the loss of someone I never met personally. From decades of listening to his music and attempting to play it (not nearly as well as he did) I get a sense of having spent a lot of time with the man.

Like many fans, the music of Cream introduced me to Jack Bruce. When I started playing bass guitar, my fingers would spend more time scratching my head than plucking the strings. Even “easy” songs such as “Sunshine of Your Love” and “White Room” turned out to be deceptively complicated. The more I studied his playing the more he opened my mind and ears to a whole new world of musical experiences.

It’s difficult to find enough words to convey Jack Bruce’s talent. He learned how to play the cello as a child. Before reaching adolescence he wrote a string quartet. As his love of music expanded, he took an interest in the string bass and the music of Jazz legend Charles Mingus. While difficult to emulate Mingus’ assault on the instrument, Bruce came close. When I listened to live Cream recordings, I wondered if he really needed an amplifier with the forceful way he’d pound on his bass strings. When he switched to bass guitar Motown bassist James Jamerson became his primary influence. Bach, Mingus and Jamerson: no bass player could select better sources of inspiration. This fusion of Classical, Jazz and Rhythm and Blues gave Bruce’s music its original sound.

While his years with Cream overshadowed his later work, Bruce consistently released quality material. Listeners could experience the full spectrum of Bruce’s abilities on his 1989 best of entitled Willpower. It contained heavier rocking tracks such as “Keep it Down” along with somber pieces like “Theme for an Imaginary Western”. He also treated fans to more Jazz influence cuts such as “Jet Set Jewel” and “The Best is Still to Come.” I really enjoyed “Can You Follow”. The sole instrumentation was Bruce singing and playing the piano.

While many people think of Bruce as the bass player for Cream, he also possessed tremendous skill as a vocalist. He could sing bluesy tracks like “Spoonful” and “Third Degree” (from the Bruce, West, Laing era), pop tunes such as “I’m So Glad” and sad ballads equally well. “Ships in the Night” (from his solo career) being the epitome of the latter, although “We’re Going Wrong” deserves honorable mention. I’d have to include the outstanding Jazz ballad “The Wrong Side of Town” (from the Bruce, Baker, Moore line-up) in that category, also.

Many have called Jack Bruce a “legendary bassist”. I don’t agree. That’s too glib a way to describe Bruce’s abilities. Based on the superlative quality of his singing, songwriting and proficiency with multiple instruments, I would call him a musician of the highest order who also played bass guitar extremely well.

May he Rest in Peace. I extend my deepest condolences to Mr. Bruce’s friends and family.