Sunday, January 12, 2020
I bought Vic's first album on Muse Records (ROADSONG), probably at J&R Music World in lower Manhattan, when it first came out (1977?), mainly because I liked the cover. I'd been listening to George Benson, Larry Coryell, Pat Martino, and to Pat Metheny's earliest recordings. I couldn't believe how great Vic sounded. Whenever talking about jazz guitar with anyone after that, I'd always mention Vic's playing; and more often than not be bewildered as to why he was not better known among aficionados.
I was fortunate enough to hear Vic play live in numerous clubs around Manhattan over the years. (Most recently at The 55 last May, the last time I was in NYC.) I never heard him have an off night. I never heard him showboat. Vic never stopped growing artistically. But the lyricism, dynamism, rhythmic vitality, the harmonic depth, and beautiful articulation that characterized his playing was in evidence every time he picked up his instrument.
I chatted with him several times after sets, and was impressed each time by how down-to-earth and approachable Vic was.
The jazz community has lost a great artist.
