By: Lynn Peril

He looked — and sounded! — great in frills.

By: Franklin Bruno

His solos elliptically paraphrase his melodies.

By: David Smay

He got an early education in rock’n’roll cynicism.

By: Tor Aarestad

Both a singular artist and a mensch.

By: Brian Berger

His genius thrived in stages: chromatic, atonal, serial.

By: Brian Berger

He could adapt to and enliven nearly any musical situation.

By: Brian Berger

She mined veins of melancholy, fatalistic, introspective truth.

By: Brian Berger

An unsurpassed fusion of energy, density, speed and lyricism.

By: Anthony Miller

His songs number in the thousands.

By: Devin McKinney

Spooky intelligence and challenging eroticism.

By: Joshua Glenn

A philosopher who didn’t take anything seriously.

By: Brian Berger

He played long, luminous tones on his trumpet.

By: Robert Wringham

Cult genius or filthy weirdo? Duh. He’s both.

By: Brian Berger

Charlie Parker vs. feebleminded ofays.

By: Jerrold Freitag

Passion, pain, uncertainty and struggle, but the music stays groovy.