Born in Philadelphia in 1949, Brecker followed his brother, trumpeter Randy, to New York City in 1970. Drawing from a steady stream of jazz gigs and pop record dates, the pair formed the Brecker Brothers in 1974, issuing funky groove-and composition-oriented fusion that was well ahead of its time. Such bass heavies as Will Lee, Neil Jason, Marcus Miller, and James Genus hit their strides in the band. Steps Ahead, Brecker’s next seminal fusion band (with vibist Mike Mainieri), boasted bottom-end contributions from Eddie Gomez, Darryl Jones, Victor Bailey, Marc Johnson, and Jeff Andrews. Meanwhile, Brecker played key roles in the solo careers of John Patitucci, Richard Bona, and Jaco Pastorius; Jaco’s Birthday Concert and Joni Mitchell’s live album Shadows and Light, which features Jaco on bass, remain highpoints among Brecker aficionados.

Patitucci was the first player to really key into Michael Brecker’s dynamic improvisation style, adapting it to his 6-string (see Lesson). An ensuing movement of young bassists, including Mike Pope and Janek Gwizdala, have been following suit. Notes Gwizdala, “Few, if any, dug as deeply into all kinds of music; he didn’t leave a stone unturned. He was simply the most dedicated musician on the scene, and he’ll continue to be a hero and an inspiration to all of us.”

We asked seven bassists who worked closely with Brecker for some insight into the life and art of this true musical visionary.

John Patitucci

There were so many incredible sides to Michael. Technically, he was the Paganini of the sax; his sound, phrasing, command, and honesty ensured you knew it was him in one note. He was a disciple of Trane, Sonny Rollins, and Joe Henderson, but among his peers, no one had his far-reaching impact on other styles of music. He could burn chorus after chorus and then turn around and play the perfect 16-bar pop solo. He simply had a wide palette, and that enabled him to bridge the gap between jazz, funk, pop, and rock, opening a lot of ears and minds, and moving plenty of people along the way. His writing was brilliant, as well. Personally, he was kind, caring, and compassionate. He helped many others get straight and saved lives because he had gotten straight himself. He was a great friend. Like all of those whose lives he touched with his music, I feel blessed.

Will Lee

Michael was a huge part of my life, as he—along with Randy Brecker and the rest of the band Dreams—was responsible for so much of my personal success. I was 18 when those guys invited me to New York for an audition. Having no funds to support myself with, I lived with Mike. The guy practiced constantly. He was so dedicated to his tenor sax, I could find my way home just by listening! That commitment is why he was the most imitated tenor player of this generation, with a discography and a reputation unequaled by anyone. He was also one of the sweetest, most humble, most intelligent, patient, funniest cats you could ever want to hang with. He had a super-gentle way about him, and it was so effective in dealing with people, we nicknamed him “the Whisperer”—hence the title of Don Grolnick’s much-covered song.

Charlie Haden

I first met Michael in the late ’60s when, as a judge at the intercollegiate jazz festival at Notre Dame, I chose him as the best musician [he was a student at Indiana University]. I was so impressed with his musical maturity and great technical ability, and he was already on his way to discovering his own voice. When we spoke at that time, I told him I knew I’d eventually see him in New York. He was clearly destined to become one of the greats. He soon made a huge impact on the world of jazz because of his concept and technical ability; all the young tenor players had to have the latest Michael Brecker album. What made him truly special was his humility, warm humor, and generosity of spirit. He was always willing to help young musicians and was a wonderful friend. I had the pleasure of recording with him numerous times, and he always performed brilliantly and soulfully. The world of creative music will miss him, as do I.

Eddie Gomez

Michael managed to develop a singular style and sound at a time when there weren’t many young tenor players making noise. He broke ground and opened up a lot of ears, which in turn opened the door for others. Then he continued to stand out as a trendsetter when the field thickened. And he did this all over the musical landscape; a lot of musical styles resonate with each other, and Michael recognized that and lived it. We worked together quite a bit, and on my projects I could count on him to understand the music quickly and come up with something special. He was always reaching for something new, trying to push the envelope; he couldn’t help but give his whole body and soul to every note he played. Like Bill Evans, he was intellectual and street-wise at the same time; he was tremendously funny and witty, but also serious. It was those extremes that made him a special artist.

Marcus Miller

Mike was a one-of-a-kind talent and a really funny guy. I remember him being fascinated by “silky” sax players. He was a firebreather when he played, but I think he was amused by cats who played soft and sexy. I was producing an Al Jarreau CD, recorded with a live studio audience, and we had an idea to do “My Favorite Things” as a duet between Al and the amazing operatic soprano Kathleen Battle. I called Mike for the session and before the take, he said to me, “You know, this sax solo needs to be really light and smooth. I know exactly what to do!” That wasn’t what I wanted, but I decided not to argue with him—maybe that could work. We started the tune, and Jarreau was doing his unbelievable scatting and Battle was swooping and soaring. Well, when the tenor sax solo came, Mike destroyed it—his solo was blistering! Not one sexy note! After the take, I asked Mike, “What happened to Mr. Smooth?” He said, sheepishly, “I couldn’t do it . . . .

Victor Bailey

My first impression of Mike was that he was humble, laid back, and surprisingly self-effacing. But when I worked with him in Steps Ahead, he absolutely killed every night. It’s rare that a different instrument inspires me so much, but when I worked with him, I practiced in the hotel all day, every day; that’s how inspiring he was to listen to.

James Genus

What’s so impressive about Michael is he took his heavy jazz influences, like Trane, into rock, funk, pop, and the Brecker Brothers. Then he brought that voice and approach back into jazz to help develop the music further—beyond II-V’s into a newer, modern sound. In my career, he established my electric side by hiring me for the Breckers when I was known mostly as a straightahead upright player. He was humble and funny, and always checking out other styles and artists, which made him the ideal role model. He knew music was life and all of life is a part of music.