Aside from his debilitating heroin habit, tendency to get the shit kicked out of him on a regular basis, and being a desperate loser, Mr Baker was quite the catch. Prodigiously talented and extremely beautiful, his early career was genre-defining and precedent setting. Sadly, addiction to the brown stuff meant that dear Chet did dumbass things like piss off drug dealers and get his teeth knocked out — meaning that his embouchure got fucked up and he couldn’t play his trumpets any more. Praise be for dentures, for these restored both his musical ability and his bone structure. A lesson I think we can all learn from the Jazz King is ‘don’t be a baghead’: just LOOK at his pre-horse face. Ooh wee.
(For another devilishly handsome muso, Jeremy J Pritchard xx)