Back before he turned everyone's idea of bass playing inside out, Jaco Pastorius spent five years on the bandstand with the Peter Graves Orchestra at Bachelors III, a swanky spot in his hometown of Ft. Lauderdale. Nearly three decades after the future star's departure in 1975, and 16 years after his brutal murder, Graves got the guys back together, christened them in their former colleague's name, and invited the most prominent bass guitarists of the early 21st century down to join them in a project dedicated to Pastorius' legacy. Throughout these polished performances, the bass parts testify to how profoundly Pastorius altered that instrument's role. Bottom line (so to speak): he gave them the option of playing from a soloist mentality and blowing all over the beat, as fast and free as any saxophonist, as long as he or she had chops and didn't subvert the groove. The guest bassists on this collection absorbed this lesson long ago. Each can scatter quick licks, some of them even faster than Pastorius himself. So why does a vague disenchantment haunt these performances? Perhaps it's because these players, great as they are, are still emulating more than discovering. Some imitate even the nuances of the Pastorius tone and phrasing, as does Richard Bona on "Punk Jazz" -- which, of course, may be a form of tribute in this context. On an opposite extreme, the light-speed, staccato hailstorm unleashed by Victor Wooten on "Teen Town" is fundamentally unmusical, focusing on the player more than the material being played -- which is, come to think of it, the real revelation here. Pastorius' tunes reflect a compositional maturity that wasn't always evident in the more improvisational context of Weather Report, and his arrangements -- notably an idiosyncratic treatment of "Killing Me Softly" and the marimba-flavored exotica of "Opus Pocus" -- suggest that had he had more time, he would have written history with his pen as much as his performance. One complaint: the samples of Pastorius' voice, chopped into microbits that carry no meaningful content and seem intended to function as objects of postmodern reflection, if not reverence. All these interruptions accomplish is to remind you that some artists speak most eloquently without words. ~ Robert L. Doerschuk, All Music Guide
Dubbed "the last live American performance of Jaco Pastorius" (liner notes), the posthumously released Curtain Call is the most refreshing of Pastorius' post-big-band live recordings. Sparked by superb sound quality and enthusiastic, energetic performances, the CD features the only available live recordings by Pastorius of "John and Mary," Herbie Hancock's "Speak Like a Child," and Miles Davis' "So What!," plus the often recorded favorites "Invitation," "Continuum," and "Teen Town." The refreshing aspect, aside from some rarely recorded live material, is the personnel and the absence of guitar. Brian "Whitey" Melvin (drums) and Jon Davis (keys) recorded with Pastorius on three of Melvin's studio dates, but never live. Pastorius is at his most lucid in years thanks to Melvin's spiritual guidance, and Davis and Melvin seem to be playing expressly for Pastorius here. Without having to compete with a guitarist, a rejuvenated Pastorius has center stage, start to finish, his prominence and clarity reaching new heights on the final three compositions, "Mercy, Mercy," "So What!" and "Teen Town." Truly awesome. ~ David Ross Smith, All Music Guide
On an irregular basis in the early '80s, the innovative electric bassist Jaco Pastorius led a big band that he called Word of Mouth. This excellent CD documents Pastorius' 30th birthday party, a concert at which he was joined by the Peter Graves Orchestra (consisting of 14 horns, two steel drums, and two percussionists) plus drummer Peter Erskine, Don Alias on conga, and both Michael Brecker and Bob Mintzer on tenors. Brecker co-stars with Pastorius on a strong program that is highlighted by "The Chicken," a burning rendition of "Invitation," and "Liberty City." The music is full of spirit and joy, featuring Pastorius at the peak of his powers just before his tragic decline. ~ Scott Yanow, All Music Guide
Recorded during a late tour of Europe, Live in Italy features a trio comprised of Pastorius, guitarist Bireli Lagrene, and drummer Tomas Böröcz. This was the last band that Pastorius played with regularly. In terms of the pure electricity of ideas and fluidity of movement from one phase of a tune to the next, from improvisation to arranged chart, this band was the equal of the trio the artist played in with Pat Metheny and Bob Moses. But this band has a way different vibe: this is a rock band that plays jazz. Lagrene is an improviser who is as versed in heavy metal and the blues as he is in the licks of Charlie Byrd and Wes Montgomery -- as evidenced in the opening "Improvisation #1," which gives way seamlessly to "Teen Town." Lagrene moves from Steve Vai/Eddie Van Halen hammer-ons to riffing from Deep Purple's "Smoke on the Water" to playing augmented jazz riff chords worthy of both Montgomery and Jim Hall. The ensuing improvisation and "Teen Town," riff moves Pastorius and Lagrene in to counterpoint with each other and Böröcz playing in between Jaco's accents. The funk groove is deep and wide, and the flow of ideas is fast and furious. On the band's cover of "I Shot the Sheriff," Pastorius leads the melodic line while playing the bassline simultaneously to introduce the cut before Lagrene slips in behind Böröcz to vamp the lyric line extemporaneously and soulfully. Again, the funk simpatico between the Pastorius/Böröcz team is greasy and phat. The wide variety of styles these cats play -- often in a single cut -- is stunning. After the Marley jam comes a gorgeous improv by Pastorius, which leads into Buster Brown's "Fannie Mae," which has Lagrene voicing from Albert and Freddie King, as well as J.B. Lenior. The set ends with a killer, out-for-blood read of "Black Market" and an elegantly soulful, wistfully lyrical take on the Ellington/Mercer/Strayhorn classic "Satin Doll." Both soloists create a deeply moving emotional tapestry in a gentle swing and bluesy vamp in their respective breaks. Of the live postmortem sets out there by this artist, this is only one of two -- the other is Heavy 'n Jazz, also on Jazzpoint -- that has the recorded sound to match the performance. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
PDB, an acronym for the trio Pastorius, Dennard and Bullock, has the distinction of being the weakest of the posthumously released Pastorius live sessions. Recorded in Feb. 1986 in Boston, the compact disc features overall poor sound quality and, more importantly, a flat, washed-out bass which takes a back seat to the guitar and percussion. The playing is generally good as is the selection of cuts. Pastorius plays keys on his beautiful composition "Three Views of a Secret" which features occasional, sudden outbursts of frenetic drumming by Kenny Dennard, a highlight on this otherwise uneventful recording. Pastorius' bass solo is barely audible on Hiram Bullock's "Son of Creeper" as well as on Pastorius' "Continuum" where it should have been quite prominent throughout. The trio's fiery but truncated rendition of "Ode to Billy Joe" falls short of their earlier performance of this same composition on Live in New York City, Vol. 2. In fact, several volumes of the Live in NYC recordings give the listener a better idea of the capabilities and potential of the PDB trio. ~ David Ross Smith, All Music Guide
It's impossible to hear Jaco Pastorious' debut album today as it sounded when it was first released in 1976. The opening track -- his transcription for fretless electric bass of the bebop standard "Donna Lee" -- was a manifesto of virtuosity; the next track, the funk-soul celebration "Come On, Come Over" was a poke in the eye to jazz snobs and a love letter to the R&B greats of the previous decade (two of whom, Sam & Dave, sing on that track); "Continuum" was a spacey, chorus-drenched look forward to the years he was about to spend playing with Weather Report. The program continues like that for three-quarters of an hour, each track heading off in a different direction -- each one a masterpiece that would have been a proud achievement for any musician. What made Jaco so exceptional was that he was responsible for all of them, and this was his debut album. Beyond his phenomenal bass technique and his surprisingly mature compositional chops (he was 24 when this album was released), there was the breathtaking audacity of his arrangements: "Okonkole Y Trompa" is scored for electric bass, French horn, and percussion, and "Speak Like a Child," which Pastorious composed in collaboration with pianist Herbie Hancock, features a string arrangement by Pastorious that merits serious attention in its own right. For a man with this sort of kaleidoscopic creativity to remain sane was perhaps too much to ask; his gradual descent into madness and eventual tragic death are now a familiar story, one which makes the bright promise of this glorious debut album all the more bittersweet. (This remastered reissue adds two tracks to the original program: alternate takes of "(Used to Be a) Cha Cha" and "6/4 Jam"). ~ Rick Anderson, All Music Guide