Mike Casey

It's been a few months now of telling short stories on solo saxophone, recording them, and releasing them. The challenge I set for myself was - can the saxophone be enough on its own?

I'm really excited to share the next single in this format with you - “Sax Monologue” - growing up I was introduced to the idea of a monologue by The Office and always wondered what that could be like without words - and with notes instead.

💔 It is hard to imagine the trajectory of my life without Sonny Rollins (September 7, 1930 - May 25 2026). It’s been a tough 24 hours, fighting tears to write this...

“Newk” wasn't just a master of the saxophone or jazz, he was a master of human expression and what it meant to search within for meaning and truth.

Long before I ever met him, as a child Tenor Madness was the first album that got me interested in jazz.

Now with more life experience I still look to his takes on “The Most Beautiful Girl In The World” and “When Your Lover Has Gone” as masterclasses in conveying love, longing, and vulnerability without a single word.

Sonny moved beyond the virtuosic, vertical element of bebop and in my opinion pioneered a brand new artistic outlook for jazz. He gave us a long-form, hyper-melodic, poetic, cinematic storytelling style of improvisation that was still highly complex. You could remove the rhythm section, and his solos would have zero holes, every single idea connected to the next so strongly that the improvisation became its own complete composition. He invented the sax/bass/drums trio format that redefined the spatial possibilities of the music, a format that completely stole my heart and shaped my own musical focus.

But Sonny’s impact wasn’t just in the music; it was also in his immense generosity.

As a young student, I was lucky enough to win a contest to interview him online (circa 2014, you can still find this on YouTube), and a year later met him in person when he received an honorary doctorate at the Jackie McLean Institute the year I was graduating. The surprisingly specific life-changing advice he bestowed in both of those moments somehow felt like he knew me on a deeper level than I knew myself. A few years later, when I was a young artist struggling to find my footing with my debut album, he shared my version of “Mack The Knife” which I recorded in his honor on his official page. In a very difficult personal and early professional period, that supportive nod from my hero gave me the hope and validation I needed to keep going and truly helped me survive and grow at a crucial early stage.

His music became the literal soundtrack to many of my life's transitions. I will never forget driving across the vast beautiful expanse of the Great American West with Way Out West blaring through the speakers during my cross country move, or finding comfort in his albums after evacuating the LA fires last year - a record store I happened to stop had the original reel to reel tapes of Way Out West, and having the privilege to hear the untouched original sound of one of my favorite albums of his in a dark & uncertain time brought me great comfort & joy.

Just this past December, not long after finishing his very thorough biography Saxophone Colossus by Aidan Levy which I highly recommend, the universe gave me what turned out to be one last, unbelievable nod from Newk. I found an original vinyl pressing of The Sound of Sonny at a shop in Carlsbad. When I took it home, I discovered a handwritten transcription of his solo saxophone version of "It Could Happen To You" tucked inside the sleeve, the exact solo I had painstakingly learned by ear a decade prior, when I was just beginning to experiment with solo saxophone possibilities. It felt like a sign from Sonny and the universe to keep following my voice, just as he always did.

Thank you, Sonny…. thank you for the music, the unimaginable standards you set, the personal kindness, and a blueprint for what it means to love the process, search within oneself for meaning, and how to pursue artistry honestly despite life’s obstacles.

There will never be another Sonny Rollins!! Rest in Power 🎷👑

Over 10 years ago (time flies!) while getting my undergrad jazz degree I ran into a frequent problem - the music building didn't have enough practice rooms!

Undeterred, I would practice in the stairwell, and came to enjoy the reverb so much as it inspired new ideas for me to sort of paint chords on saxophone, so even when practice rooms were available late at night I would still wail in the stairwell.

Looking back this was the very first artistic seed that inspired what I've been doing lately, which is focusing on telling thematic short stories on solo saxophone, recording them, and releasing them.

Hear “alone in the stairwell at jazz school” wherever you listen to music.

Peace
-Mike Casey

PS if you want early access to the next solo saxophone piece, DM me

why do you like the saxophone? be specific.