Chet Baker's long goodbye

Every once in a while I come across an artist with whom I am not as familiar as I end up wishing that I had been and wonder to myself “What took you so long?” Recently I came across a movie about jazz trumpeter and singer Chet Baker, Born To Be Blue. Upon going through Baker's catalog I am once again asking myself, “What took you so long?'

Chet Baker was born on December 23, 1929, in Yale, Oklahoma, into a musical family. Baker acquired his first instrument, a trombone, at the age of 14. The trombone proved to be unsuitable so Baker transitioned to trumpet - immediately demonstrating innate ability. When Baker was 16 he joined the Army and began to improve his skills in military bands.

Baker was discharged from the Army in the early 1950's and decamped to the West Coast to play with the likes of Stan Getz, Charlie Parker and Gerry Mulligan. It was with Mulligan's quartet that Baker first gained recognition. Baker, in contrast to many jazz musicians of the bebop era, had little formal musical training. It's perhaps because of this that he demonstrated little interest in playing fast – a hallmark of bebop. Instead, he developed a sparse, lyrical style that has been best described as “plaintive.”

Rather than double melody lines played by Parker, Getz and Mulligan, which was the style at that time, Baker innovated with counterpoint. Like Miles Davis, upon whom he modeled his own playing, Baker didn't need 64th note solos to make a statement. His playing, in both tone and style, was quite simply beautiful.

Baker was an early member of the “Cool Jazz” movement along with Davis, Mulligan, Dave Brubeck, Paul Desmond, Miles Davis and Bill Evans. He had a hit with the Mulligan quartet, My Funny Valentine, which became a signature piece of Baker's throughout his career.

As his star rose during the 1950s, it did not take long for Baker, who resembled James Dean in appearance, to be noticed by Hollywood. And though he went on to appear in several films his heart was always in music.

Baker struck off on his own as a solo artist in the mid-50's. His well-received album, Chet Baker Sings, established him as a vocalist as well as an instrumentalist. Several European tours cemented his status as both a leading jazz musician and a matinee idol. But it was during this period that heroin abuse, a distressingly common malady among jazz musicians of the era, began to catch up with Baker (along with many others). Baker, near the end of the decade, spent several months in Riker's Island prison as the result of a drug-related conviction.

Not long after his release from Riker's Island, Baker left the United States for Europe to escape more drug-related problems. Although he was wildly popular in Europe, especially in France and Italy, he was unable to escape his issues with heroin - which had begun to exact a tremendous toll. After several arrests he returned to the United States in the early 1960's. Though he recorded for a variety of labels during this period his career was in decline.

Baker arrived at his personal nadir in 1966 when his embouchure was ruined as the result of a beating over a drug deal gone wrong. No longer able to play trumpet, he worked for several years as a gas station attendant.

In the mid 1970's, with the aid of methadone and dentures, Baker returned to playing. It was during this time that Baker rose to new heights as an artist. While the ravages of his destructive lifestyle had somewhat diminished his singing voice, most critics consider Baker's trumpet playing during this period to be his best. During this phase Baker was able to develop greater technical proficiency and subsequently craft more elegant lines.

Around this time Baker became somewhat of a cause cé·lè·bre among a younger generation of rock and pop musicians - specifically Elvis Costello. But cool jazz, having long been replaced by jazz fusion, was no longer a road to stardom. After some attempts to change with the times, Baker returned to Europe to a hero's welcome.

This was Baker's most prolific period as a recording artist. He was rolling and once again near the top of his musical game when he was found dead on an Amsterdam sidewalk during May 1988 as the result of a fall from his hotel room. His appearance was so changed from drug abuse that no one immediately knew who he was after his death.

It would not be correct, at least in my opinion, to claim that Baker did not get the credit that he was due during his life. He appeared, after all, on over 100 albums. During various parts of his career Baker was feted as a jazz legend across several continents. But Baker, himself, never felt that he measured up to the musical standards of jazz. “All anyone cares about,” he once lamented, “is how fast, how high and how loud you can play.”

If you listen to Baker's recordings it's difficult to comprehend how he could feel that he did not live up to his billing. Miles Davis once suggested that Baker's critical success was due to racism – something that Baker took to heart. It stuck with him throughout his career.

One of Baker's most gifted contemporaries, jazz pianist Bill Evans, felt that he was not a good enough player either. It's completely insane. Almost no one is better than Bill Evans. If you need convincing on this point, just find any live recording of Evans playing On Green Dolphin Street and listen to him line up slick and tasty jazz chords so fast it'll make your head spin.

Both Baker and Evans lived with self-doubt which they salved with heroin. Both died within a few years of each other after spending decades crafting long musical goodbyes. Both left behind bodies of work that will be appreciated for a long time.

A few years after Evan's death, Pat Metheny and Lyle Mays wrote September Fifteenth, an ode to Evans (who died on September 15, 1980) which appears on the album As Falls Wichita, So Falls Wichita Falls. It's the greatest musical tribute to another artist I have ever heard. If you have not heard it, you should.

If you, like me, are late to the party, be sure to check out Chet Baker.

Associated Press and Idaho Club award-winning columnist Martin Hackworth of Pocatello is a physicist, writer and retired Idaho State University faculty member who now spends his time with family, riding mountain bikes and motorcycles and playing guitars. His writing on Substack, “Howlin' at the Moon in ii-V-I” may be found at martinhackworth.substack.com