THE SOUND OF NOW AND FOREVER
Milton Nascimento and Lô Borges composing at Lô's parents' home, 1972 - ®Juvenal Pereira
A Love Letter to the Living Legends
In the world of music, we often speak in terms of legacy. We build archives, compile discographies, and honor the giants whose shoulders we stand upon. This work of preservation is vital, a sacred duty. But sometimes, in our focus on the eternal echo of a masterpiece, we can forget the beautiful, fleeting, human moment from which it sprang.
Recently, our community has felt some tremors of change. The news of Roy Ayers' passing left a quiet space in the air, a vibranium-vibe now silent. We received the heartbreaking update from Milton Nascimento’s family about his diagnosis with dementia, a condition that slowly dims the very light that gave us “Travessia” and “Cais.” And now, our hearts are with the brilliant Lô Borges, whose work on Clube da Esquina forever altered the musical landscape, as he fights his battle in the ICU. These moments, alongside the tragic, early passing of a spirit like D’Angelo, remind us that the fabric of our sonic universe is fragile, and its brightest stars can be taken from us far too soon.
Roy Ayers in the studio, circa 1970
These are not just headlines. For those who knew them, these are friends. Roy wasn’t just the Godfather of Neo-Soul; he was a man with a luminous smile and a vibraphone that felt like sunshine. Milton, or “Bituca” to his friends, isn’t just a voice of celestial beauty; he is a soul of immense warmth and camaraderie. Lô isn’t just a name on countless classic songs; he is a creative spirit whose presence is deeply felt.
This is the core of what we must remember: the music we hold so dear was made by people. It was forged in late-night sessions, shared over laughter, and offered to us as a gift. We are so fortunate that the Jazz Is Dead family has been able to share time and space with some of these incredible beings. We’ve witnessed the effortless, joyful genius of João Donato, a man whose piano keys seem to drip with honey and rhythm. We’ve ridden the cosmic waves with the late, great Mamão of Azymuth, whose heartbeat was the pulse of Brazilian jazz-funk. Our thoughts also turn to his bandmate, the incredible bassist Alex Malheiros, and the soulful samba-rock pioneer Hyldon, both of whom have recently faced their own health battles. These were not just recording sessions; they were reunions, celebrations, and the creation of new memories.
D’Angelo on stage
So what is the answer? It is not to dwell in sadness or fear. The answer is to celebrate with a renewed urgency.
Let’s shift our focus from solely building legacies to actively living within the music. The concert is more than a cultural event; it is a gathering of souls, a collective breath, a shared heartbeat. It is the chance to look a hero in the eye and say “thank you” with your applause. It is the opportunity to be in a room where the air is vibrating with the very sound you love, created in real time.
Let us honor the greats not only with our retrospectives but with our presence. Let’s fill the clubs, the concert halls, and the festivals. Let’s buy the albums directly from the artists, send the messages of appreciation, and tell our friends about the living legends in our midst.
Mamão, Alex Malheiros and Kiko Continentino, during the recording of Azymuth JID 004
Let’s celebrate João Donato’s smile. Let’s cherish every groove Mamão left us. Let’s send our love and strength to the families of Milton and Lô. And let’s carry the spirit of Roy and D’Angelo forward by fully embracing the music and the musicians who are with us now.
Don’t wait. The time to celebrate is now. The time to listen deeply, to dance freely, and to love openly is this very moment. In doing so, we don’t just honor the music; we honor the beautiful, fragile, and magnificent human journey we are all on, together.
See you at the show.
With love and gratitude,
The Jazz Is Dead Family
