Starting your debut album off with a cover is a bold move no matter who you are, especially when it gets flipped completely upside down and becomes a minimalist piece. Jaco Pastorius starts off his first solo effort with a bass guitar rendition of Charlie Parker’s “Donna Lee,” which lays down a foundation for a career unlike anything else. Immediately you gravitate to the melody and with only conga drums in the background there is nothing to distract you from how gorgeous and rich just a fretless bass guitar can be. It’s very easy to get distracted by the immense skill that is presented on this album. Jaco made a name for himself being the absolute best, in a different universe from everyone else; he didn’t think of a bass like a bass, it was just an extension of his being. He displays his foundation of strong skills, a sense of melody on a non-melodic instrument, and appreciation for what came before all within the first two and a half minutes.
After “Donna Lee” graces your ears, they get blown out with the opening horns of “Come On, Come Over” which is more like a standard funk song of the time, except the bass is the star. All the drums and grooves on this album come from a heavy influence of his Florida surroundings and Latin and Cuban music, but the way they tie into the solo bass pieces that are so gentle and have an intensity to them is a lot more human and emotional than any other bass player I’ve heard. Then you get flung right back into the funk side of things with “Kuru/Speak Like a Child.” Herbie Hancock makes an appearance here that is the equivalent to a rap feature, his presence is massive but him and Jaco going back and forth on this song is as exciting as Andre 3000 and Big Boi of Outkast trading verses. They play well together, nobody stepping on the other’s feet, and it’s never so much that it detracts from the song as a whole. The pattern of rich and warm ballads, then undeniable funk masterpieces continues with the harmonic “Portrait of Tracy,” which has become one of Jaco’s signature songs, floating through your mind and reminding you of young love like no other instrumental can. “Opus Pocus,” "Okonkolé Y Trompa," and "(Used to Be a) Cha-Cha" take you from this earth into an unknown dimension of groove and funk that I’ve not experienced anywhere else. It’s not quite the same place that bands like Parliament or Sly and the Family Stone were taking you to, this was funk in Jaco’s mind taking place in a space that we are able to visit for a short time.
Jaco has been called the Jimi Hendrix of bass, and this album is his Are You Experienced? The contents of this album opened up a door for bass players around the world - you suddenly didn’t have to be a background instrument that is just there to elevate the guitar, singer, or anybody else. The "Bass of Doom" and Jaco were the stars. He had a spell book that nobody else has been able to get access to since. There are people that can replicate what he does on a technical level, but none of it compares to how he plays. All of the technical stuff is really cool, but none of it really matters if the song doesn’t groove, move, and make you feel like dancing - which is the dynamic of this record, with the tight grooves that are so relaxed. The band is perfectly behind the beat at times where it’s so chill you want to lounge around with a margarita on a summer day. Then they come back around to being as tight and precise as any of the prog guys at the time.
There is so much to dig into on this album; it’s incredibly dense, but
incredibly digestible. You don’t need to be a bass expert or know who Charlie
Parker is to make this a great listen. This album reveals all of Jaco’s colors,
which is appropriate because the cover is a black and white portrait of him
looking right into the camera, no smile, nothing, which makes opening it up and
hearing how colorful this album is that much more exciting.
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Max Kafuman
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