It was only a few years after college that I was on a set break at the Telluride Jazz Festival in Colorado when one of the festival producers called me and said, “Larry Coryell is coming to the club with his guitar and amp.”
“What?” We were excited and nervous and basically freaking out. We quickly met to figure out what to play with him.
An adaptation of Miles’ “In a Silent Way” was the first thing we grooved on. It was surreal. Floating on this spacey groove while Larry fired away. We could’ve played it for hours.
The second time he sat in with the band (Licorice) we tried to play Miles’ a more traditional “All Blues” to impress our new jazz giant/guru/”Uncle.” Licorice was really a rock outfit dangling on the cliffs of improvisation. So we did what we could, but there was only one major problem; we did not know the correct turnaround. Well, he did more than “turn around” when he looked at the band on stage, as he basically made us learn the tune while he yelled changes and slammed those chords down while we were live! We sorta got it. Chord voicings…
From these experiences, Larry approached me and said, “You haven’t studied at all have you?” He could tell I was self-taught. “You need to study bebop. You need to listen to Charlie Parker, man. You have big ears! When I say something to you can answer me or say it right back.” I nodded, smiled, freaked, and suddenly felt the urge to get the proper training. “I will teach you,” he said. Those were his exact words and to this day they still blow me away. I just kept nodding in agreement, not sure of what I was getting myself into.
Our first lesson together was Bird’s “Confirmation.” Like all of our lessons, they were open-ended and lifelong studies if you dive deep enough, which we did. I then needed to learn everything about “Confirmation” and every other tune I learned with Larry that opened up worlds. For instance, the combination of learning “Black Orpheus” and “Spain” both simultaneously still has me spinning. Always will. Larry’s lessons were the gifts that keep on giving. They weren’t about turnarounds, modes, or vehicles, but larger statements about sound, culture, music, and the world. Just watch him play “Bolero” or “Rhapsody in Blue” solo.
I was really excited for the lesson where I finally came prepared and ready to play Chick Corea’s “Spain” together. I was barely making my way around the tune but wanted to play it face to face with him. After the “head,” I went straight to comping for his solo. He stopped a few lines in and said, “No, try something like this. It’s a little more hip of rhythm, not as corny, man!” He then laid down an incredible rhythm structure for me to play and for him to solo over. I never looked at comping the same again.
When you hear Larry, it’s not like the other fusion players (categorized and sold in that genre). Most of the other cats sound like water; fluid, precise, deliberate. Larry is pouring out a bag of Muhammad Ali punches note for note. It’s so…Larry. He can be abrasive and jarring, but in the end, comes from and arrives at a place of inspiration and genius. When you played with him, he wanted to throw a punch at you to not only push you against the ropes but also to wake you up and get you hip to where you were and what you were doing. Then, he made you react. That was his gift to me as a teacher.
In the end, Larry and I didn’t just talk music, but books, life, culture, and his lessons were in everything we discussed. The overall effect on our culture and how the music fuels the world we live in. By any definition, he was a Renaissance Man as he was not only a revolutionary, but was so much to so many. With his passing, a void now exists in my life, in the world, and in music. My love goes out to his family and loving wife and friend, Tracey. His sons will carry his musical torch and if you haven’t seen Murali lead the 11th House band… “Man, Check that cat out!” – LC
The genre he mastered means he will be missed by many, but as my teacher and mentor, I will honor his memory by using the tools he gave me for the rest of my life. I know you are jamming daily with all of the greats where you belong.
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Check out Larry’s autobiography: Improvising: My Life in Music
More footage:
Larry with Miles (read up on that story!):
Larry Coryell w/ Gary Burton 1967:
Larry’s first recording w/ Chico Hamilton:
David Lott is still playing guitar with multiple projects, and scoring online video content in Colorado where he now lives with his wife and two daughters.
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