Remembering Chick Corea

Singular and influential, the world of music (not just jazz) has lost a legend.

Rest In Peace, Chick Corea.

We all get into various genres of music in different ways. Growing up, my parents didn't listen to jazz. I wasn't even aware of it probably until I was in high school in the 70s.

It’s the Fall of 1974. There I was, doing some record shopping at Sam Goody at the Roosevelt Mall in Northeast Philly. In my hands were Little Feat’s Feats Don’t Fail Me Now and Average White Band’s AWB, and just as I thought I was done and about to check out, I caught a glimpse of Return To Forever's album, Where Have I Known You Before. I bought it based on the cover, and when I got home, I unwrapped it and put the lp on my turntable and listened, and my mind just exploded.

What the heck was this music? It rocked. It had crazy grooves. It was melodic as hell. The playing was like nothing I had ever heard before. And so, with RTF, the doorway to jazz opened up for me. Little did I learn later that this genre - "jazz fusion" - was looked down upon my the snobby jazz purists I would later meet. But I could care less.

From RTF and Chick Corea I was led down the fusion road to Mahavishnu, and Weather Report, and Herbie's Head Hunters. I learned about Miles because of Chick (Bitches Brew was the first Miles album I ever heard by Miles - because of Chick). I followed the branches to anywhere Chick would take me. I bought his solo records.

It was Chick though who led me to the traditional jazz classics that I learned to love over time, classics that get better with each passing year. I'm saddened to hear about his passing. His influence and playing was singular. While years and albums and artists often overlap sometimes for me, I can always point to the place where jazz started for me: Chick Corea. At Sam Goody.

Ten songs below.

“Bitches Brew” features Chick on electric piano (right side) and Joe Zawinual on left side electric piano.