I don’t know what to say. Horace Silver is dead.
It wasn’t that I’d seen him play in a while or noticed it, even if he was good when you saw him.
And it isn’t like I can’t listen to his records any more. You certainly should if you have not had the good fortune to do so already.
The Preacher (arguably the first “soul jazz” record) is still there and will be forever featuring maybe the swingingest horns ever put to vinyl.
So will personal favourites The Cape Verdean Blues with its quicksilver afro-caribbean rhythms
and Senor Blues which showcases the brilliant horn front line of Hank Mobley and Donald Byrd.
So for that matter will the swinging vocalese version of the latter with Bill Henderson.
His later madder recordings will also survive as a record of his then new philosophical ideas - including the sneaky funk jam and tasty breakbeat Acid Pot & Pills which almost seems to flaunt how easy it was for Horace to stay relevant.
And of course there will still be Song For My Father – his masterpiece
Not to mention the huge influence on the career of Steely Dan. Rikki, don’t steal that melody…
It’s just that while he was still about there was still a connection to the original Blue Note – Horace was one of the label’s biggest sellers, and the last act signed to the original 70s label.
It’s not like it’s the end of the world, but it feels funny to feel better about today because I listened to Horace Silver’s music, but to have been reminded to do that by his passing.