Jaco Pastorius
Invitation

In the painting depicting him on the cover of "Invitation," Jaco has a relaxed face, etched with fine tones of yellow and sky blue, and watercolor green; he is wearing a blue sports shirt, with his hair tied in a hidden ponytail, and a large red umbrella resting on his shoulder frames him, adding a solar and ecstatic touch. That flavor of amusement, that touch of rural freshness that makes the lungs expand to full capacity... a picturesque snapshot that radiates in a fan the rich range of qualities contained in that powerful creative chimera known to most as John Francis (Jaco) Pastorius III.

And Jaco had creativity to spare when he jumped around like a madman, with incredible mastery (on stages around the world), from the most extreme and searing bebop to sumptuous reinterpretations in a sweetened style of the sacred monsters of contemporary music (from Coltrane and Parker to Miles Davis, the Beatles, etc.), mediating everything through his incredible personality as an arranger and consummate performer. For those who loved the libertine, percussive and noisy style where it was not melodic or with a crazy groove, the commendable artistic maturation of the superb bassist-composer (complete and monstrously expressive already a few years after his first approaches to the instrument) that completes the ideal creative clash between the directions of jazz, rock, blues, funk, soul, classical (and more), is manifest, captured by the live magic of "Invitation," in an exemplary way, elevated by a robust sound largely shaped by a meticulous and painstaking care in orchestration.

Beware of imitations. In my opinion, "Invitation" (1983) is the quintessential Pastorius live album; here Jaco showcases all his credentials, supported by the Word of Mouth big band (which includes among its ranks excellent musicians such as Othello Molineaux - steel drum, Jean "Toots" Thielemans on harmonica, the "maleficent" Peter Erskine on drums, the duo Randy Brecker, trumpet - Bobby Mintzer, saxophone, the faithful Don Alias on percussion, plus an imposing horn section) and by a recording quality that is almost perfect. In this context, "Reza" is the supreme synthesis of pure talent. For those considering a generally elegant but somewhat retro offering, perhaps nostalgic of the stylistic features of the '50s and '60s, a formula distant from the contaminations of the most avant-garde jazz, here is presented this incredible mini-suite: a menacing bass line, an infernal drum rhythm, nervous sax escapes that deflate then explode into potent free impulses, a gong just caressed opens the doors to the Pantheon of jazz, the sacred arena trodden by the deeds of the hero Coltrane (the interlude of "Giant Steps," featuring Molineaux), more than honored, I would say embellished by the contribution, in opening and closing (which is reserved for the breathtaking crescendo of Pastorius's distorted bass) of the two "Reza" tracks.

Just like the romantic dialogue with Thielemans's harmonica in "Sophisticated Lady" (by Duke Ellington), which seems to paint soft urban atmospheres, so throughout the album Jaco's work is perfectly dosed and free from any form of self-celebratory protagonism aimed at shredding; beyond the usual vast repertoire of arpeggios, dizzying licks, chords, and false harmonics, etc., in fact, the only real moment of indulgence is found in the stunning opening track "Invitation." Also notable is the shorter version of "Liberty City" compared to the studio version, here not losing even a shred of lightness and imagination, the circular walking of "The Chicken" freed from the "Soul Intro," the infectious and danceable rock 'n' roll "Fannie Mae" (with Jaco's inevitable vocal performance) and the eccentric "Eleven" closing the album with a touch of madness; in the sweet tones of "Amerika" and "Continuum," instead, we find the softer moments where the bass rises to pure poetry.

Glancing at the cover and listening to this music, a triumph of thoughts and images crowd in, chasing each other to find the best way to celebrate Jaco. Exuberant, curious, hyperactive, with a keen sensitivity, a virtuoso in every sense of the word; all qualities that fully, for better or worse, assume characteristics of his stylistic-existential arc, tragically marked one night in September 1987. On that day, music lost a great protagonist.