Dave Brubeck's passing reminds me of the passing of jazz as a form of music where the listener appreciated the various instruments that created those exciting sounds.
One remembers the jazz clubs in the Los Angeles area, like the Lighthouse Cafe in Hermosa Beach, packed with attentive fans, void of conversation, enraptured by the sounds of instrumental magic. Music seems to have reverted backward to a more primitive form of noise, where one screams and hollers and physically exhausts himself on stage.
Those who experienced the West Coast jazz era, we take five and reminisce.
Your obituary on Brubeck was delightfully insightful and comprehensive. I was one of those who began listening and collecting his albums in the 1950s ("Jazz Goes To College" was my first, inspiring me to buy his earlier Fantasy recordings).