Weather Report Discography
1971
Weather Report
Released in May 1971, Weather Report’s self-titled debut album earned critical and commercial acclaim. The music defies easy description, a bold, innovative embrace of the stylistic changes taking place in jazz at that time, acoustic and electric instruments stretching the conventions of rhythm and harmony. Keyboardist Joe Zawinul said at the time: “We always solo and we never solo.” Who knew a paradox could swing.
1972
Live In Tokyo
The double album, Live in Tokyo, recorded on January 13, 1972, was released only in Japan. For years it was coveted by collectors, more talked about than actually heard. Sonically, it seemed to exploded from the speakers, a loud, raucous, uncompromising journey through a space unique to Weather Report’s collective improvising.
1972
1972
I Sing The Body Electric
I Sing the Body Electric was the second album released by Weather Report in 1972. It introduced two new members to the band: percussionist Dom Um Romão and drummer Eric Gravatt. Side One featured a set of studio recordings, highlighted by Zawinul’s beguiling tone poem, “Universal Soldier.” The fabled ARP 2600 makes its presence felt for the first time on this side as well. Side Two was a deft culling of tracks from the Live in Tokyo release. Collectively, the music ventured into deep space, fit for only the most intrepid listeners.
1973
SweetNighter
Weather Report’s next album, Sweetnighter, released in 1973, was the last album to feature founding member Miroslav Vitouš. Stylistically, the band was transitioning from their open, improvisational style to a more compositionally structured format. The prominent use of funk rhythms and the electric bass would, years later, capture the ears of DJs and Hip-Hop artists who promiscuously sampled these tracks.
1973
1974
Mysterious Traveller
Mysterious Traveller showcased their newest member, bassist Alphonso Johnson, furthering the group’s exploration of “The Groove.” Ishmael Wilburn took over on drums, having replaced Greg Errico, formerly of Sly and the Family Stone, who handled the touring responsibilities but declined an invitation to be a permanent member of the band.
Zawinul was intent on excising the freer elements, doubling down on the dynamic range of afforded him by the ARP 2600. More soulful than cerebral, this album set the band on its trajectory to reaching a bigger audience without sacrificing their artistic integrity. Mysterious Traveller was a pinnacle in the world of jazz rock fusion. It was voted as the album of the year by the readers of Down Beat for 1974, garnering their 2nd overall win in that category.
1975
Tale Spinnin’
Another album, another drummer. Into the breach stepped Ndugu Chancler, moonlighting from his fulltime gig bashing the skins for Carlos Santana. What the band lacked in personnel continuity, was more than compensated for by the vitality of the performances, the cinematic scope of the writing. Tail Spinnin’ furthered their interest in exotic sounds and rhythms, the synthesizers now fully deployed, the play of dance, the joy of carnival, resounded through every note.
1975
1976
Black Market
Jazz Album of the Year, 41st Annual Down Beat Readers Poll
Jazz Group of the Year, 41st Annual Down Beat Readers PollThe pieces of the puzzle began to cohere: Joe deploys his newest weapon, Jaco Pastorius, an “other-worldly” talent, whose sublime gifts are superseded only by the idiosyncrasies of his personality. The music is muscular, full of bravado, throwing punches like a boxer’s feint and parry. It doesn’t just swing – it rocks!
1977
Heavy Weather
Platinum Awarded Record
Best Selling Album of Weather Report
Inducted into the Grammy Hall of FameThe bass riff heard ‘round the world: “Da Da Da, Da Da DaDAH!” With its splash of Ellingtonia married to the blusiest of earworms, “Birdland” lifts the band to the rarified heights of pop crossover sensation. Heavy Weather quickly became the album to measure your hipness by; young musicians marveled at its effortless virtuosity; their peers gasped at the group’s seamless blend of tradition and experimentation; and the “jazz police” (i.e. the critics) hailed them as conquering heroes.
1977
1978
Mr. Gone
The critics giveth, and the critics taketh away. The critical blowback to their follow up of Heavy Weather – savaged in Down Beat Magazine – led to a hootenanny of fan and band exchanges. Zawinul, in particular, was in fighting form, dismissing those who found the record’s ad hoc qualities discouraging. The constant parade of drummers (hints of Spinal Tap!) and pervasive air of musical chairs portrayed a band in flux, leaving listeners to wonder what comes next. Nevertheless, the album was quickly certified Gold and topped out at #52 on the Billboard Pop music charts and, of course, #1 on its’ Jazz charts.
1979
8:30
Grammy Award for Best Jazz Fusion Performance
With veteran big band drummer Peter Erskine behind the kit, Weather Report hits the road as a tight four-piece; lingering uncertainties now resolved, their set draws from an impressive body of work. On this double LP of live recordings drawn from concert sites around the world, the full range of their innovations are on display: the infectious rhythms; the dark, often sinister synthesizers textures; the traditions honored; the thundering climax of the “Boogie Woogie Waltz” rousing Johann Strauss, Jr. from his peaceful slumber. Complimented with a side of studio tracks, 8:30 was a potent reminder that Weather Report remained the standard by which jazz, entering the 1980s, would be measured.
1979
1980
Night Passage
Somewhat overlooked in their discography, Night Passage caught the band at a new high. Jaco had reached rock star status, a formidable counter weight to the Zawinul/Shorter axis. His composition, “Three Views of a Secret,” was a standout; layers of synths, orchestral in their arrangement, added a lush life to Jaco’s supple lead bass lines. New addition Robert Thomas, Jr. added discrete percussive touches throughout the album, punctuating the rich compositional vein the band was mining.
1981
Weather Report
The new decade ushers in all things digital: MIDI, programming, sequencers, drum machines, etc. It’s shiny and new – musicians’ toys. Joe grabs the baton and joins the parade. It’s an all-consuming distraction from the business and personal issues plaguing the band. Weather Report was the first of several albums documenting the shift in focus to what Peter Erskine described as “the one-chord groove, vamp thing…,” eschewing formal structure for grids or roadmaps, pointing in a desultory direction. “Zawinul,” as he rebranded himself, had taken full command of the helm, Wayne dabbling here and there, his horn a tart rejoinder to the increasingly metallic sheen of the dominating synthesizers. Jaco’s meltdown begins around this time, the gravity of which become clearer in short order. The album’s eponymous title was an apt commentary on a band with identity issues.
1981
1983
Procession
Into the Weather Report maelstrom jumped drummer Omar Hakim and bassist Victor Bailey. Too young to be agonizing over the band’s disfunction, to enthralled with the prospect of performing with their jazz heroes, they brought a much-needed joie de vivre to both the studio and the stage. Much of that renewed vigor weaved its way into a set of tunes that mirrored Zawinul’s pursuit of an idealized flow: augmented, diminished, over-extended riffs processed through an all-too-familiar synth wash that lent the entire “procession” an alarming predictability. The renowned vocal ensemble, Manhattan Transfer, were recruited to join the fray on “Where the Moon Lives.” Even here, their distinctive sound is rendered mood by the Zawinul treatment, compressed and distorted into a mere silhouette, subordinated to a quirky footnote. Live, though, this version of Weather Report crackled with kinetic energy, the kids rockin’ and rollin’ while Joe and Wayne bipped and bopped. The engine was running hot, but were they just spinning their wheels?
1984
Domino Theory
Clack, clack, clack – the sound of dominos collapsing on each other. Having toured exhaustively, Weather Report returned to Los Angeles to record its next album. Patterns have been established – annealed – and the results were the same; an interchangeable litany of synth segments triggering a brash, voluble percussive counterpoint. Occasionally, Wayne invested a little angular momentum into the proceedings; his burnished soprano and battle cry effusions on tenor, added breath to the music’s relentless throb and bristle.
Bands are dynamic enterprises; they reflect the creative and cultural communities within which they reside. Jazz in the Eighties was fracturing along fault lines not easily reconciled; the “Young Lion” traditionalist counter-revolution was taking hold of the conversation. Weather Report, led by two elder statesmen – one particularly cussed – remained committed to the next new thing, embracing the sonic wonders that technology promised. But just as in pop music, style was no substitute for a melody, harmony and rhythm in perfect alignment. Weather Report had performed this rare alchemy for over a decade, their legacy assured. What remained was, well, just conversation.
1984
1985
Sportin’ Life
By this time Weather Report had evolved into a projection of Zawinul’s indomitable id; the music essaying a confederation of sketches, evoking rhumba-like rhythms, tumbling bass figures – Bailey weaving in and out of Joe’s left hand – accompanied by farrago of percussive effects, punctuated by Wayne’s serpentine outbursts. It was not so much a fusion as a goulash, seasoned to fewer and fewer people’s taste. Ostensibly their last true album (i.e. featuring a line-up carried over from the previous LP), the catch-as-catch-can quality signaled that the air was finally escaping from the weather balloon.
1986
This Is This!
Weather Report’s final album was as much a contractual obligation as an artistic statement, a pastiche of themes and variations derived from Joe’s home studio improvisations. His synth palette had become all-too-familiar, the motives barely established before evaporating from the ear by virtue of flagging inspiration. Like an Old Testament prophet, Zawinul stuck to his artistic guns; if his voice lost urgency it was through no lack of resolve. Wayne had left the building, his footprint palpably absent, a phantom presence preparing for the next phase of his storied career. It would be uncharitable to fixate on the group’s inelegant demise; for years they personified the essence of creative vision. Their body of work was/is without peer; if they trailed off over their last years, it was as much a function of larger aesthetic and commercial forces directing the behavior of musicians and audiences alike. Weather Report, then and now, abides.
1986
1971
Weather Report
Released in May 1971, Weather Report’s self-titled debut album earned critical and commercial acclaim. The music defies easy description, a bold, innovative embrace of the stylistic changes taking place in jazz at that time, acoustic and electric instruments stretching the conventions of rhythm and harmony. Keyboardist Joe Zawinul said at the time: “We always solo and we never solo.” Who knew a paradox could swing.
1972
Live In Tokyo
The double album, Live in Tokyo, recorded on January 13, 1972, was released only in Japan. For years it was coveted by collectors, more talked about than actually heard. Sonically, it seemed to exploded from the speakers, a loud, raucous, uncompromising journey through a space unique to Weather Report’s collective improvising.
1972
I Sing The Body Electric
I Sing the Body Electric was the second album released by Weather Report in 1972. It introduced two new members to the band: percussionist Dom Um Romão and drummer Eric Gravatt. Side One featured a set of studio recordings, highlighted by Zawinul’s beguiling tone poem, “Universal Soldier.” The fabled ARP 2600 makes its presence felt for the first time on this side as well. Side Two was a deft culling of tracks from the Live in Tokyo release. Collectively, the music ventured into deep space, fit for only the most intrepid listeners.
1973
SweetNighter
Weather Report’s next album, Sweetnighter, released in 1973, was the last album to feature founding member Miroslav Vitouš. Stylistically, the band was transitioning from their open, improvisational style to a more compositionally structured format. The prominent use of funk rhythms and the electric bass would, years later, capture the ears of DJs and Hip-Hop artists who promiscuously sampled these tracks.
1974
Mysterious Traveller
Mysterious Traveller showcased their newest member, bassist Alphonso Johnson, furthering the group’s exploration of “The Groove.” Ishmael Wilburn took over on drums, having replaced Greg Errico, formerly of Sly and the Family Stone, who handled the touring responsibilities but declined an invitation to be a permanent member of the band.
Zawinul was intent on excising the freer elements, doubling down on the dynamic range of afforded him by the ARP 2600. More soulful than cerebral, this album set the band on its trajectory to reaching a bigger audience without sacrificing their artistic integrity. Mysterious Traveller was a pinnacle in the world of jazz rock fusion. It was voted as the album of the year by the readers of Down Beat for 1974, garnering their 2nd overall win in that category.
1975
Tale Spinnin’
Another album, another drummer. Into the breach stepped Ndugu Chancler, moonlighting from his fulltime gig bashing the skins for Carlos Santana. What the band lacked in personnel continuity, was more than compensated for by the vitality of the performances, the cinematic scope of the writing. Tail Spinnin’ furthered their interest in exotic sounds and rhythms, the synthesizers now fully deployed, the play of dance, the joy of carnival, resounded through every note.
1976
Black Market
Jazz Album of the Year, 41st Annual Down Beat Readers Poll
Jazz Group of the Year, 41st Annual Down Beat Readers PollThe pieces of the puzzle began to cohere: Joe deploys his newest weapon, Jaco Pastorius, an “other-worldly” talent, whose sublime gifts are superseded only by the idiosyncrasies of his personality. The music is muscular, full of bravado, throwing punches like a boxer’s feint and parry. It doesn’t just swing – it rocks!
1977
Heavy Weather
Platinum Awarded Record
Best Selling Album of Weather Report
Inducted into the Grammy Hall of FameThe bass riff heard ‘round the world: “Da Da Da, Da Da DaDAH!” With its splash of Ellingtonia married to the blusiest of earworms, “Birdland” lifts the band to the rarified heights of pop crossover sensation. Heavy Weather quickly became the album to measure your hipness by; young musicians marveled at its effortless virtuosity; their peers gasped at the group’s seamless blend of tradition and experimentation; and the “jazz police” (i.e. the critics) hailed them as conquering heroes.
1978
Mr. Gone
The critics giveth, and the critics taketh away. The critical blowback to their follow up of Heavy Weather – savaged in Down Beat Magazine – led to a hootenanny of fan and band exchanges. Zawinul, in particular, was in fighting form, dismissing those who found the record’s ad hoc qualities discouraging. The constant parade of drummers (hints of Spinal Tap!) and pervasive air of musical chairs portrayed a band in flux, leaving listeners to wonder what comes next. Nevertheless, the album was quickly certified Gold and topped out at #52 on the Billboard Pop music charts and, of course, #1 on its’ Jazz charts.
1979
8:30
Grammy Award for Best Jazz Fusion Performance
With veteran big band drummer Peter Erskine behind the kit, Weather Report hits the road as a tight four-piece; lingering uncertainties now resolved, their set draws from an impressive body of work. On this double LP of live recordings drawn from concert sites around the world, the full range of their innovations are on display: the infectious rhythms; the dark, often sinister synthesizers textures; the traditions honored; the thundering climax of the “Boogie Woogie Waltz” rousing Johann Strauss, Jr. from his peaceful slumber. Complimented with a side of studio tracks, 8:30 was a potent reminder that Weather Report remained the standard by which jazz, entering the 1980s, would be measured.
1980
Night Passage
Somewhat overlooked in their discography, Night Passage caught the band at a new high. Jaco had reached rock star status, a formidable counter weight to the Zawinul/Shorter axis. His composition, “Three Views of a Secret,” was a standout; layers of synths, orchestral in their arrangement, added a lush life to Jaco’s supple lead bass lines. New addition Robert Thomas, Jr. added discrete percussive touches throughout the album, punctuating the rich compositional vein the band was mining.
1981
Weather Report
The new decade ushers in all things digital: MIDI, programming, sequencers, drum machines, etc. It’s shiny and new – musicians’ toys. Joe grabs the baton and joins the parade. It’s an all-consuming distraction from the business and personal issues plaguing the band. Weather Report was the first of several albums documenting the shift in focus to what Peter Erskine described as “the one-chord groove, vamp thing…,” eschewing formal structure for grids or roadmaps, pointing in a desultory direction. “Zawinul,” as he rebranded himself, had taken full command of the helm, Wayne dabbling here and there, his horn a tart rejoinder to the increasingly metallic sheen of the dominating synthesizers. Jaco’s meltdown begins around this time, the gravity of which become clearer in short order. The album’s eponymous title was an apt commentary on a band with identity issues.
1983
Procession
Into the Weather Report maelstrom jumped drummer Omar Hakim and bassist Victor Bailey. Too young to be agonizing over the band’s disfunction, to enthralled with the prospect of performing with their jazz heroes, they brought a much-needed joie de vivre to both the studio and the stage. Much of that renewed vigor weaved its way into a set of tunes that mirrored Zawinul’s pursuit of an idealized flow: augmented, diminished, over-extended riffs processed through an all-too-familiar synth wash that lent the entire “procession” an alarming predictability. The renowned vocal ensemble, Manhattan Transfer, were recruited to join the fray on “Where the Moon Lives.” Even here, their distinctive sound is rendered mood by the Zawinul treatment, compressed and distorted into a mere silhouette, subordinated to a quirky footnote. Live, though, this version of Weather Report crackled with kinetic energy, the kids rockin’ and rollin’ while Joe and Wayne bipped and bopped. The engine was running hot, but were they just spinning their wheels?
1984
Domino Theory
Clack, clack, clack – the sound of dominos collapsing on each other. Having toured exhaustively, Weather Report returned to Los Angeles to record its next album. Patterns have been established – annealed – and the results were the same; an interchangeable litany of synth segments triggering a brash, voluble percussive counterpoint. Occasionally, Wayne invested a little angular momentum into the proceedings; his burnished soprano and battle cry effusions on tenor, added breath to the music’s relentless throb and bristle.
Bands are dynamic enterprises; they reflect the creative and cultural communities within which they reside. Jazz in the Eighties was fracturing along fault lines not easily reconciled; the “Young Lion” traditionalist counter-revolution was taking hold of the conversation. Weather Report, led by two elder statesmen – one particularly cussed – remained committed to the next new thing, embracing the sonic wonders that technology promised. But just as in pop music, style was no substitute for a melody, harmony and rhythm in perfect alignment. Weather Report had performed this rare alchemy for over a decade, their legacy assured. What remained was, well, just conversation.
1985
Sportin’ Life
By this time Weather Report had evolved into a projection of Zawinul’s indomitable id; the music essaying a confederation of sketches, evoking rhumba-like rhythms, tumbling bass figures – Bailey weaving in and out of Joe’s left hand – accompanied by farrago of percussive effects, punctuated by Wayne’s serpentine outbursts. It was not so much a fusion as a goulash, seasoned to fewer and fewer people’s taste. Ostensibly their last true album (i.e. featuring a line-up carried over from the previous LP), the catch-as-catch-can quality signaled that the air was finally escaping from the weather balloon.
1986
This Is This!
Weather Report’s final album was as much a contractual obligation as an artistic statement, a pastiche of themes and variations derived from Joe’s home studio improvisations. His synth palette had become all-too-familiar, the motives barely established before evaporating from the ear by virtue of flagging inspiration. Like an Old Testament prophet, Zawinul stuck to his artistic guns; if his voice lost urgency it was through no lack of resolve. Wayne had left the building, his footprint palpably absent, a phantom presence preparing for the next phase of his storied career. It would be uncharitable to fixate on the group’s inelegant demise; for years they personified the essence of creative vision. Their body of work was/is without peer; if they trailed off over their last years, it was as much a function of larger aesthetic and commercial forces directing the behavior of musicians and audiences alike. Weather Report, then and now, abides.
Additional Releases
The Legendary Live Tapes, 1978-81 is a four-disc compilation of unreleased performances by the Weather Report lineup featuring Joe Zawinul, Wayne Shorter, Jaco Pastorius, Peter Erskine, and later, Bobby Thomas Jr. The compilation, compiled for release by Erskine and Tony Zawinul, features mostly soundboard cassettes by Brian Risner, the band’s longtime live sound engineer, with some audience tapes and commercial mobile rig selections mixed in. The sequencing is not chronological but reflects Erskine’s and Zawinul’s personal notions about the band’s collective ability on any given night of a tour. Although there are some peculiar quirks, the material is remarkable and showcases the band’s jazz-funk best with improvisational and collective intuitive chops usually on stun.
The Weather Report era featuring Jaco Pastorius is collected in The Columbia Albums 1976–1982. Black Market (1976), Heavy Weather (1977), Mr. Gone (1978), the primarily live 8:30 (1979), Night Passage (1980), and Weather Report (1982) are all housed in LP facsimile sleeves that are robust but not as good as a typical Japanese reissue. The front and back cover art for each CD have been duplicated. The box includes 12 bonus tracks, including all of the Pastorius-featuring songs from the 2002 compilation Live and Unreleased as well as material from the 1979 Havana Jam, according to liner notes author Richard Seidel. The 19-page booklet also contains session information and complete track-by-track credits. While it might seem like a significant jump for first-timers, the collection originally cost around the same as three full-price CDs when it was launched in 2012.