Sonny Rollins, 'Saxophone Colossus,' Knew How Not To Die Young
How is it that the "Saxophone Colossus" Sonny Rollins lived to 95? Aren't jazz musicians supposed to die at tragically early ages? Actually, that's a myth that Rollins and others proved flawed.
It's true that Bix Beiderbecke, king of the cornet, was gone at 28, Charlie Parker at 34, Dinah Washington at 39, John Coltrane at 40. Billie Holiday made it to 44 — not young, but an age that should have been before her time.
Some musicians, classical and rock, as well as jazz, reach especially advanced ages. The music stimulates their mind, connects them with others and lowers stress. Importantly, performing is also a physical workout. Watch the virtuosi sweat.
Tony Bennett passed at 96, having sung only 23 months earlier (with Lady Gaga). Though the performances were billed as "One Last Time," Bennett seemed in fine form.
The early deaths were usually tied to addictions. Biedernecke was an alcoholic. Washington was cut down by abuse of prescription drugs. Parker, Coltrane and Holiday suffered multiple addictions.
How did Walter Theodore Rollins escape? Born in Harlem, Rollins took some wrong turns. At 21, he helped rob a tobacco store and did time in jail. And he got hooked on heroin. But at around age 24, Rollins put himself into the U.S. Public Health Service Hospital in Lexington, Kentucky, and broke the habit.
Also called the Lexington Narcotic Farm, the facility was both a prison and hospital for addicts. Numerous musicians and artists passed through. Relapses were common, but Rollins was not among them.
From then on, Rollins committed himself to staying sober and healthy, spiritually and physically. He got into yoga and meditation, which he practiced religiously. Many a recovering alcoholic know their power.
It is a falsehood, as Rollins demonstrated, that getting high feeds creativity. A year after leaving "Lexington," as musicians called the hospital, Rollins recorded his seminal album, "Saxophone Colossus." From there he built his legacy as an improvisational genius.
Rollins was not alone among other jazz greats who lived well into their 90s. They include Eubie Blake (96), Marian McPartland and Benny Carter (95), Lionel Hampton and Bucky Pizzarelli (94).
The list of rock musicians perishing in their 20s and 30s from drug abuse is voluminous: Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Brian Jones, Jim Morrison and Amy Winehouse all died at 27. Sid Vicious didn't make it past 21. But Mick Jagger still performs at 82.
Let's not overstate the extent to which mind-altering substances spur creativity by relaxing the brain and freeing up associations. Researchers find that novel thoughts do not necessarily lead to good art.
I recall attending a memorial service for Horace Silver, the master of hard bop, who had died at the respectably ripe age of 85. The son of a Cape Verdean immigrant, Silver started life with scoliosis among other physical burdens. But he used those challenges to pursue a life dedicated to family, spirit and healthy eating. He had cut down touring to spend more time with his wife and son. It's all there in his autobiography, "Let's Get to the Nitty Gritty."
When the service ended, young jazz musicians filled the church with Silver's gospel-flavored, Brazilian-inspired sounds. (Steely Dan borrowed heavily from Silver for their opening of "Rikki Don't Lose That Number.")
Like Rollins, Silver lacked nothing in creativity and didn't regard self-destruction as the price for producing original sounds. Starting in 1959, Rollins "disappeared" for a while to work on his art. He would practice for hours on New York's Williamsburg Bridge.
He emerged three years later with an album called "The Bridge." And as a bonus, he had 64 years left to make more music. Rollins knew that great artists didn't have to die young.
