There are musicians that expand not only what an instrument can sound like, but what music itself can sound like. Eric Dolphy was one. The instrument in question was the bass clarinet (although he also played alto sax and flute), and during his too-short career, he played it in ways that no one else had even imagined. He created a vocabulary that sounds adventurous even today. His 1964 recording Out to Lunch is rightly considered a jazz classic, as he and a stellar band (Richard Davis on bass, Freddie Hubbard on trumpet, Bobby Hutcherson on vibes, Tony Williams on drums) find just the right balance between freedom and discipline.

Records like this one remind us that jazz is a very open type of music in concept, and personally, I hope it stays that way. The extraordinary achievement that is this album proves that jazz can't (and shouldn't) be defined.

The album's opener, "Hat and Beard" with its 9/8 theme, is a tribute to Thelonius Monk (another musician to whom today's first sentence applies). Dolphy's solo is first: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tnPkQufnZY

One interesting theory regarding jazz history has it that instrumentalists and composers have alternated in moving the music forward. It goes something like this: In the twenties, it was an instrumentalist (Louis Armstrong); in the thirties, a composer (Duke Ellington); in the forties, another instrumentalist (Charlie Parker); in the fifties, a composer (Thelonius Monk and/or Miles Davis - take your pick); in the sixties, an instrumentalist (John Coltrane); in the seventies, a composer (Charles Mingus, although he started much earlier). It's an oversimplification obviously, but it is an interesting one. In rock and roll's formative decade, the most important composer (songwriter, if you prefer) was also the most important instrumentalist: Chuck Berry. Yesterday, I wrote a little about his lyrics, today his contributions to the guitar.
Chuck Berry is rock and roll guitar. Every rock guitarist must come to an understanding of the way he plays to have any authenticity in their sound. The deeper they go into his work, the more successful they become. (Yesterday, I mentioned that neither the Beatles or Stones would have existed without him - I forgot to mention The Beach Boys.) It is fascinating to listen to early Berry recordings because he is so far ahead of his band rhythmically. You can often hear them learning as the song goes along. (Part of the reason for this is how each player interprets the three vs. two of blues, jazz or rock - more on that to come - but essentially Berry was a few years ahead of his band at this point.) His rhythm playing is the quintessential sound of rock and roll. His introductions were (and are) amazing in their power and originality. His solos had all the wit, excitement and intelligence of his performing. But perhaps most importantly, he also showed, definitively, that the way forward for rock was to be found in studying and extrapolating from the blues. As a matter of fact, with retrospect, it's probably appropriate that his work be considered alongside (I mean equal to) the blues in its importance to and influence on rock and roll.