Roney, Brian Lynch, and other of their
generational peers. Examining the back
cover photo of the 1982 Jazz Messengers
recording Oh- By The Way (Timeless), it's
clear that Pierce is schooling the younger
Blanchard and Harrison, in the true
mentoring tradition that Blakey fostered.

Blakey's graduate school of hard,
soulful swing also introduced the world to
the assertive, take-no-prisoners tenor
saxophone of Bill Pierce. During his time
as a Jazz Messenger, Pierce played
alongside the Marsalis Brothers
(significantly with Branford on alto
saxophone and in one recorded big band
setting, bari sax; purely because the tenor
chair was already expertly occupied, and
Blakey definitely had a seniority system),
Blanchard and Harrison (who succeeded
the Marsalis siblings in the frontline
alongside Billy), the ancestor bassist
Charles Fambrough, and his peers, the
alto saxophonist Bobby Watson (who at
the time of Pierce's stint was the band's
music director), and the ancestor pianist
James Williams.

Asked recently about Pierce’s impact,
Bobby Watson who has himself
matriculated to the college jazz
education field as director of jazz studies

at the University of Missouri-Kansas City,
the alto saxophonist had this to say, “Bill

is one of the greatest individual tenor sax
voices of our generation. He has had a
tremendous influence on my playing while
playing with him in the Messengers.”

You can clearly hear that influence in
following the Jazz Messengers albums on
which Pierce and Watson shared the
frontline, primarily with Wynton Marsalis,
including: the Blakey big band date Live at
Montreux and Northsea (Timeless, 1980);
Live at Bubba's (FDI, 1980); the crackling
Album of the Year (Timeless, 1981); Art
Blakey in Sweden (Amigo, 1981); and
Straight Ahead (Concord Jazz, 1981). After
Watson's tenure, Pierce made the
Messengers’ albums Keystone 3 (Concord
Jazz, 1982); and Oh By The Way
(Timeless, 1982).

Case in point as to Pierce’s place in the
Jazz Messengers pantheon can be heard
clearly on the aptly titled Album of the
Year, where the recording opens with the
band'’s essay on Charlie Parker’s bop
classic “Cheryl.” Right from the jump Billy
Pierce establishes his prowess with his
brief but commandingly robust tenor solo
as the first in the track’s series of compact
horn statements by Pierce, Wynton, and