McCoy

Compositionally, I was hoping that some of the flavour of Duke’s Money Jungle, Thelonious Monk and the 70s era of my favourite Jazz pianist, McCoy Tyner, pictured here, who passed in March this year might be found in one of my latest musical pieces, ‘Continents’. One of my greatest concert regrets is missing his last gig in London at Ronnie Scott’s Jazz club. I had my ticket but as has happened on many occasions due to a deficient memory, I unremembered on the night it took place. It was only some days after that I realised it had past.

McCoy was the last man standing from what I believe to be the greatest Jazz quartet and one of the greatest groups of musicians in the long history of people banging, squeezing, and plucking on things to make music. Alongside John Coltrane, Elvin Jones and Jimmy Garrison, Tyner made music that lifted the level of consciousness and seemingly held down the foundations of something ancient and future, just beyond the grasp of comprehension. The abstract and formal, the beauty of McCoy’s comping and soloing on ‘My Favorite Things’ is a love letter to the questing nature and curiousity of what it is to be human. The technique and the soul was never in doubt, when McCoy played his instrument.

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