Ayers died on March 4 in New York. The warm sound of his instrument has fallen silent, leaving an empty void. He was eighty-four years old and had been battling a long illness. His notes, once rays of sunshine in the jazz-funk and soul firmament, now float like precious dust in an endless sunset. The music world is left devastated and suspended, waiting for a final note that will never come. His vibraphone spoke directly to the heart, and every chord he played was a fragment of melancholic light—a thrill we now miss like a lost heartbeat. Roy Ayers leaves behind a bittersweet void—a silence filled with memories in which the magic of his music will forever resonate. He was not an easy character. I remember one evening backstage at the Fez in Bari, my hometown. The club was packed with people waiting for him to take the stage. At […]