I was sad to read this story as I got back into the office today – having resolutely refused to read much press over the holidays – about the death of Oscar Peterson, the jazz pianist. Jazz is not everyone’s cup of tea: some modern stuff is unlistenable, in my view, but this man crossed a lot of barriers with his wonderful blues style. I love his album, Night Train. I might just put it on the CD machine later.
And he died at the ripe old age of 82, proof, surely, that not all great musicians have to die young or mess up their talents by drugs or general over-indulgence.