I began my love affair with jazz during captivity in a prestigious New England prep school, swapping a modicum of notoriety as the school's only rock guitarist for a stint replete in mediocrity in my friendly, neighborhood jazz band. There, I specialized in pentatonic scales, avoid notes, wah-wah pedal and tastefully laying out on anything simultaneously involving a flat 7th and a sharp 13th. This was painless, given the band included the amazing Thomas Chapin. After gaining familiarity with the rich legacy of jazz guitar, I incisively mothballed the old Les Paul in favor of an electric bass, on which I was, thankfully, never forced to solo over changes in front of other people.
Support All About Jazz's Future
We need your help and we have a deal. Contribute $20 and we'll hide the six Google ads that appear on every page for a full year!