There’s a verse in the Bible that suggests ‘When I was a child, I thought as a child …’. It’s true.
When I first heard Horace Silver (it was the Doin the Thing album though), laying in the middle of the living room floor of my parents’ house, reading the liner notes as hard bop flowed through the house (thanks to my dad’s ingenious wiring — yeah, we had surround sound before there was such a thing), I knew I would grow up to marry this man. Not as he would be by the time I was marrying age (he was born in 1928), but as he was when the album covers from the early 1960s were done (meaning he was at the youngest in his late 30s when I was pining away …), a handsome youngster, tickling the ivories with many of the greats.
I smiled at that memory when I read that Mr. Silver had crossed the Rainbow Bridge in 2014. When I hear the first notes of ‘Filthy McNasty’, I still close my eyes and feel the groove, just like it was yesterday.
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