The legendary drummer Jack DeJohnette passed away from congestive heart failure at his home in Woodstock, New York, surrounded by family and close friends. He was born August 9, 1942 in Chicago and began his music journey on the piano before picking up drums in his teens.
Jack’s story reads like a true American musical tale. He started out as a kid playing piano, then switched to drums, hustled his way to New York in the mid-1960s, and earned work with some of the giants of jazz. He had just $28, his drum kit, and big dreams when he moved east.
He played with the likes of Charles Lloyd and his quartet, where he crossed paths with a young pianist named Keith Jarrett. Then came the moment that solidified his legend: joining Miles Davis’ electric fusion band around 1969–1971. Albums like Bitches Brew, Jack Johnson, and On the Corner still blow minds today.
Jack once said something like: “I’d start something and Miles wouldn’t say anything, then he’d cue each instrument in and things would roll.” That’s the kind of real-time magic he helped create.
Jack wasn’t just a sideman. He became a bandleader, a composer, a keyboardist, and a musical explorer. Over his career, he released more than 50 albums as a leader or co-leader and worked with major labels like ECM, where his creativity really ran wild.
He could juggle genres—free jazz, fusion, funk, world music. He once said:
“I am hearing orchestrally. The cymbals are to my drum set what the sustain pedal is on the acoustic piano.”
That quote shows how much he thought about music—deeply.
In 2012, Jack was honored as an NEA Jazz Master—one of the highest honors in jazz. And in 2022, his album Skyline won a Grammy for Best Jazz Instrumental Album.
He’s survived by his wife Lydia and daughters Farah and Minya. Reports say he didn’t fade away quietly; he was surrounded by love and remembered by people who knew his heart as well as his talent.
Even near the end, he remained engaged in music, always curious. That curiosity is part of what made him special. He didn’t rest on his past. He kept pushing.
Losing Jack DeJohnette is a big loss—not just for jazz but for all of music. If you play bass, guitar, drums, or you listen to cutting-edge rock or hip-hop, you’re still feeling the ripple of what he did decades ago.
His drumming didn’t just keep time. It told stories. It shifted moods. It created space for others to breathe and shine. And it taught us that drums are not just rhythm—they’re conversation.
If you’ve got one of his albums in your collection, now might be a good time to put it on. Spin Bitches Brew, Jack Johnson, or any of his ECM records. Listen to the ride his drums take you on.
Jack once said he’d rather play free, explore, and challenge himself instead of just waiting for a cue. That’s the kind of spirit we’ll remember.
So here’s to Jack DeJohnette—a musician who loved his craft, lifted his collaborators, and left behind a sound that’ll never fade. We tip our hat, we listen deep, and we thank you, Jack. Rest easy.
