‘Jaco’ Documentary Profiles Troubled Jazz Fusion Bass Virtuoso

There’s an old joke about an anthropologist who discovers a tribe in the jungle who play drums non-stop, day and night, for weeks on end. Then suddenly, one day, the drumming stops. Panic ensues. When the anthropologist asks the tribal chief why everyone is screaming, he replies “NO MORE DRUM SOLO!!!! NOW BASS SOLO!!!” In order to enjoy Jaco, the new documentary about revolutionary electric bass guitar virtuoso Jaco Pastorius, you’ll need to get over your biases against such things, as well as any you may be harboring against jazz fusion, a genre my older brother once described as the result of “too much marijuana and too little sex.”

Though hardly a household name, “Jaco” – as he is known to fans – is legend to any musician who’s ever tried to move their skill set past the intermediate level, especially bass players. As Racer X / Mars Volta bassist Juan Alderete says in one of several effective tribute interviews, “We all say it, he’s our Hendrix.” Though rooted and well-versed in jazz, Jaco played the 4-string electric bass, normally the province of rock and R&B players. His technique was astonishing, as fast and accurate as any 6-string guitar shredder, and he augmented it with innovative use of chords and ghostly harmonics. Though he wasn’t the first fretless electric bass player, his use of one did much to popularize the instrument. His famed fretless “Bass Of Doom” is now in the possession of avowed fan Rob Trujillo of Metallica, who produced the documentary, which is now streaming on Netflix.

Like so many other legendary musicians, Jaco Pastorius’ life story is full of epic highs and tragic lows. The son of a big band vocalist and drummer, Jaco’s early life was marred by his parents divorce. From an early age he exhibited a gift for music, and by high school was playing bass in a succession of black R&B bands in South Florida, a bold move for a white musician in what brother Gregory Pastorius describes as a “cracker town.” Work continued on the southern “Chitlin’ Circuit” with Wayne Cochran and The C.C. Riders. Not constrained by stylistic borders, Jaco “heard music in everything,” according to daughter Mary. After the birth of his first child, he got serious about success, telling his brother “I gotta do something on the electric bass that’s never been done before.”

The big break came for the self-proclaimed “greatest bass player in the world” with the release of his 1976 debut solo album and his recruitment into seminal jazz-rock outfit Weather Report. The documentary then does an interesting sidebar into a short history of the genre. Though often maligned as ponderous musical self-indulgence, at its height fusion groups filled stadiums with audiences lured by their impressive musicianship and jazz improv explorations at rock n’ roll volumes. Made up of veterans of Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew band, and led by headstrong Austrian keyboardist Joe Zawinul, Weather Report were very much fusion’s A-Team and entry into their ranks cast a spotlight on the young bassist.

The once shy young musician bloomed into “JACO!,” the larger than life bass guitar hero with Jimi Hendrix-inspired headband. He was soon hamming it up on stage, pouring talcum powder into his boots to stomp mid-performance creating a cloud around him, or theatrically throwing his bass off stage at the end of a solo. Of course you know where this story is headed, you’ve seen it before. It was the ‘70s and though sober at the outset, Jaco began indulging in drink and drugs which exacerbated dormant mental health problems. The rejection of his sophomore solo effort, 1981’s ambitious Word of Mouth, by both the record label and his Weather Report mentor Zawinul – who dismissed it as “some typical, high school, big band bullshit” – seems to have sent him into the downward spiral that would claim his life before decade’s end. His substance abuse increased and he was soon homeless. He was committed to a mental hospital in New York, where he was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. Soon after he returned to Florida and took up residence in a public park. After being kicked out of a Santana concert on September 11, 1987, he got into an altercation with bouncers at a Fort Lauderdale club who beat him so bad he fell into a coma and died 10 days later from his injuries.

Directed by Paul Marchand and Stephen Kijak, Jaco is an engaging and interesting documentary for a somewhat esoteric “musician’s musician.” The interviews with such world class bassists as Sting, Flea of The Red Hot Chili Peppers and Rush’s Geddy Lee do a good job in explaining his importance and instrumental genius to non-musicians. Though other area’s of Pastorius’ life could have been explored in more depth, the filmmakers correctly choose to focus on a narrative that will appeal to a broader base than just hardcore Jaco fans. That’s rather fitting considering the bassist’s willingness to step outside the confines of his instrument and even jazz itself in pursuit of his singular musical vision. “Keep an open mind about everything,” he says in one of the film’s few interview segments with him when asked what he’d tell young musicians. “That’s my only advice, keep your ears open.”

[Watch Jaco on Netflix]

Benjamin H. Smith is a New York based writer, producer and musician who isn’t afraid to rock some Mahavishnu Orchestra every once in awhile. Follow him on Twitter:@BHSmithNYC.