One-of-a kind musical farewell for Jackie Jackson

WESTERN BUREAU:

Had it not been for the thick walls of the historic St James Parish Church, all of Montego Bay might have heard saxophonist Dean Fraser pouring his heart into Dance With My Father on Saturday.

It was that kind of farewell.

Not simply a funeral service, but an extraordinary musical tribute to Clifton ‘Jackie’ Jackson, the legendary Jamaican bassist whose fingers helped create the heartbeat of some of the world’s most recognisable reggae and rocksteady recordings.

For a man who spent more than five decades making other musicians sound magnificent, it was only fitting that some of Jamaica’s finest turned up to return the favour. And did they ever!

Fraser, one of the country’s most accomplished saxophonists, appeared to surrender himself completely to the music. Backed by an impressive group of musicians providing vocal accompaniment, he transformed Dance With My Father into something approaching a musical prayer. Every note seemed to carry a memory. Every phrase spoke to the loss of a friend, mentor and fellow musician.

Inside the church, the music was not merely being performed. It was being felt.

Jackson, who died on September 23 at the Cornwall Regional Hospital, had spent much of his life away from the spotlight, allowing his bass guitar to provide the foundation on which singers and instrumentalists built their careers.

On Saturday, October 31, the spotlight belonged entirely to him.

But, if Fraser’s performance stirred emotions, Jackson’s youngest daughter, Courtni, brought the occasion to another level. Following in the footsteps of her late mother, celebrated Jamaican singer Karen Smith, Courtni stepped forward to honour the two people whose lives had been so deeply intertwined with music.

Her first selection, If You Knew, carried special significance. Her father had played bass on the recording, and now his daughter was singing it at his farewell. It was a beautiful meeting of generations, the voice of a daughter reaching back to the musical contribution of her father.

Then came Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door, a song her mother loved.

Courtni’s rendition was enough to give listeners goosebumps. There was something almost poetic about the moment. The daughter of a legendary bassist and an extraordinary vocalist was standing before some of Jamaica’s finest musicians, honouring both parents through the gift they had passed on to her.

For those who knew Jackie and Karen, it was difficult not to appreciate the significance. Courtni was not simply performing two songs. She was telling a family story through music.

Singer Duane Stephenson added another unforgettable chapter to the service with Many Rivers to Cross. The Jamaican classic, presented with the solemnity and spiritual depth of a Negro spiritual, seemed particularly appropriate for a man whose musical journey had carried him from the early days of Jamaican popular music to international stages and Grammy-winning recordings.

Its familiar message of struggle, endurance and perseverance took on a different meaning within the walls of the church. The song became both a tribute to Jackson and a reminder of the remarkable journey of Jamaican music itself.

Here was a musician who had witnessed the birth of rocksteady, helped establish the unmistakable bass-driven sound of reggae, and accompanied some of the biggest names in music. Yet, on this Saturday, the emphasis was not on international acclaim or commercial success. It was on the man.

Music producer and industry veteran Copeland Forbes, who had known Jackson since they were seven years old, took the congregation on a journey through their childhood, recalling their days in the All Saints Boys Scouts and the young Jackie who was as comfortable with sports as he would eventually become with musical instruments.

Forbes remembered a gifted youngster who played table tennis and cricket, learned the keyboard and mastered the steelpan before establishing himself as one of Jamaica’s most respected bassists.

Their friendship had survived decades of changes in Jamaica’s musical landscape.

Delivering the eulogy, music industry commentator Clyde McKenzie reminded mourners that Jackson’s basslines had helped distinguish recordings by Alton Ellis, Desmond Dekker, Jimmy Cliff, Paul Simon and countless others.

McKenzie also recalled Jackson’s generosity towards Fraser, whom he had helped early in his career, providing opportunities to perform and even assisting him in acquiring his first car.

It was a fitting reminder of why Jackson was so highly regarded among his peers.

He was not simply a musician who played exceptionally well. He was a musician who made space for others to grow.

His contribution to Toots and the Maytals, with whom he performed for decades, formed another significant chapter of his career, including the group’s Grammy-winning album True Love.

But the stories shared on Saturday revealed another side of Jackson: the father who entertained his daughters with tales from his travels, the husband who quietly supported Karen Smith’s performances, and the friend whose humour could transform an ordinary gathering.

There was something profoundly appropriate about holding Jackson’s celebration of life in a church where music and faith could come together so naturally.

He had been a member of the congregation, and the sanctuary that had witnessed his worship became the setting for one final musical salute.

Minister of Culture, Gender, Entertainment and Sport Olivia ‘Babsy’ Grange, in a tribute delivered by Jamaica Cultural Development Commission representative Mexine Bisasor, captured the enduring power of a musician’s contribution.

“A musician may leave the stage, but the music remains,” she said.

And that was precisely what Saturday’s farewell demonstrated.

Jackson’s bass guitar may have fallen silent, but the music he helped create continues to travel across continents, generations and genres.

His four daughters have lost their father. Jamaica has lost one of the craftsmen who helped give its music an unmistakable identity.

Yet, as Dean Fraser’s saxophone filled the sanctuary, Duane Stephenson revisited a timeless Jamaican classic, and Courtni Jackson sang the songs connecting her to both parents, one thing became abundantly clear. Jackie Jackson may have played his final earthly note, but the music he left behind is nowhere near finished.

janet.silvera@gleanerjm.com