Jaco Pastorius
Jaco Pastorius

THE REVIEW

After a string of Metal reviews, it's time to dive into something more challenging and serious... And I do so by choosing my favorite Jazz Fusion album, the self-titled debut of the greatest bassist who ever walked this earth.
Incredible, magnificent, sensational, sweet, soothing, hypnotic, hypnotic, hypnotic... Losing myself among the sublime notes of this alien (calling him a "bassist" would be an understatement) has been, is, and will forever be one of the strongest emotions I have ever felt. And believe me, not even a Metal album can give me goosebumps like this master of the fretless four strings can.

The album, aside from being an absolute must-buy for anyone who has ever held or even seen a bass (and not only), is the explosive debut, released in 1976, not of just any bassist, but of Jaco Pastorius, perhaps the last, true, great, brilliant, and innovative musician of the century. This is the Jaco who, through his very personal interpretation of the musical term "Jazz," managed to influence every bassist in every genre where music is understood as a form of Art, from Les Claypool to Steve Digiorgio, from Michael Manring to Alex Webster.
His great innovation was in putting the bass, which until then was considered the classic "added guitar" that had to perfectly mirror the six-string lines, in the absolute spotlight, thus giving unprecedented prominence to the fullness and richness of sounds often enhanced, which therefore achieved a depth to leave anyone speechless.

You'll find everything here, from the jamming of the opener "Donna Lee," which amazes with the monstrous technical-improvisational abilities of the genius, to the funky-jazz of "Come On, Come Over," the classic in which the Double Dynamite Sam Moore and Dave Pratter reunited for the vocals after their previous breakup, offering a fantastic performance; to the relaxing tranquility of "Continuum," to Jazz with Classical elements in "Kuru/Speak Like A Child," to the delightful hypnotism of "Portrait Of Tracy," to the Caribbean "Opus Pocus" and "Okonkole Y Trompa," which unfold before our eyes with heavenly visions and vibrant, exhilarating scenarios of seas and palms, to the sped-up swing of "(Used To Be A) Cha-Cha," to the classical "Forgotten Love" that beautifully closes this immortal, infinite, immense work, capable of giving me emotions as only a few other records can.
The musicians accompanying Jaco on his very personal and emotional musical excursion are names of the caliber of Herbie Hancock and Lenny White, but Jaco is the absolute protagonist, letting himself go in improvised solos that bear little resemblance to anything human.

No doubt about it: here lies the essence of Jaco's sound, a bass-earthquake who, around the mid-70s, completely revolutionized the Jazz music scene and beyond. He collaborated with outstanding musicians and, after rather disconcerting abuse of alcohol and drugs, met an end far from deserved, closing music's most important chapter when everything seemed to have just begun, that is, too soon, leaving musical collaborators, personal friends, bassists, and musicians in general with a strong bittersweet taste, a great regret but also an immortal memory, which strongly contributed to bringing the great Jaco, who fortunately had already sent his message, into the Olympus of musicians and legends hard to die, even if only in the minds of men, who still today, after so long, love losing themselves in the grooves of this Work of Art.