In Memory of Dax Johnson...
On the morning of November 23rd - just three days ago now - I found out that a very dear friend of mine, pianist Dax Johnson, had died. I have been grieving him ever since. You see, Dax was a very important person in my life. He influenced my music and career in so many ways. I loved him like a brother, and the two of us shared a special connection, something musical as well as emotional and even to a degree, spiritual.
Chances are, you, my reader, have no idea who Dax Johnson was. Well, I want to tell you about him. It's the least I can do, and probably the best thing I can do to honor him. So please, read on. If not for Dax, for me. Let me share a bit of him with you.
I first saw Dax around nine or ten years ago. He was playing an old out-of-tune upright piano at a street market in Portland, Oregon. I remember thinking to myself, "Who is this guy? He's amazing..."
And he truly was. He had an irresistible charisma. If you just stood there watching him play, you were drawn into him. His music was hypnotic, as was the way he moved at the piano. His body was constantly fluid, always moving, weaving, never stopping - riding the emotional wave of his very unique compositions. He was ONE with the instrument, like no one else I had seen before. And his "look" was also unusual for a piano player - he had long, straight black hair, an unshaven face, black street clothes and tattoos. You'd never guess he was a composer for solo piano. He looked far more "heavy metal" than "classical."
On that particular day in Portland, I watched him for awhile and then moved on. I didn't meet Dax that day. I never spoke to him. I was just one of the many people in the crowd, admiring him from a distance. As far as I knew, I'd never see him again.
Well, life is a funny thing...
About two years later, I received an email from Dax. At this point, I had no recollection of who he was and nothing in his email clued me in. He told me he was a fellow pianist based out of Spokane, WA, and that he was a HUGE fan of my music. He thought my CD, The Vigil (which was my newest at the time) was incredible. I thanked him, and told him I really appreciated receiving such a compliment from another piano player. Then he asked if he could send me his own CD to listen to. I said "Sure, go ahead," and a week or so later I received Merciful Dwelling in the mail.
Dax's CD grabbed me immediately. The things Dax did on that album were brave, bold and interesting. He took musical risks I never would never dream of taking on a solo piano album. One of the things that really struck me was that the album was imperfect. It wasn't studio polished - and it didn't matter. The music was RAW energy, pure EMOTION, VIBRANT and alive. Dax's piano music just wrenched at my heart. It was so sad - such painful music - and yet so extraordinarily beautiful. I was completely in love with the album.
I emailed Dax to tell him how much I enjoyed his music, and then he sent me back a link to an article the local paper did on him. The article included a picture of him playing on an old upright in the street (see the clipping at right). That was the moment I realized who I had been chatting with over email - it was that "heavy metal" piano player I saw in Portland a couple years before! I was completely startled by this. THIS guy loves MY piano music? I was taken aback because, by this time, I had an immense respect for him, not just as a pianist, but as an artist.
Dax's album, Merciful Dwelling, went on to become one of the single most important influences on my own piano music. No other pianist, aside from George Winston (who I credit with turning me on to the idea of composing for piano in the first place), has had more influence on my musical direction.
After that initial email exchange, Dax and I kept in touch somewhat irregularly by telephone. One day, Dax called me out of the blue to tell me he was coming through my home town and wanted to meet. And so, I invited him into my home. Dax and I hit it off immediately. It was like we had known each other for years, when in fact we had never actually met face to face. I played a new song for him on my piano (I remember playing Ludwig's Dream for him while he laid on the floor with his eyes closed just taking it in) and he played a song for me, one he said was influenced by my music. What an honor that was.
Dax then told me he wanted to introduce me to his brother, Maka, who was also his booking agent and manager at that time. Dax wanted to hook me up with him so we could perform together at some point. I thought it was a great idea, and I was quite taken with the idea of playing a concert with Dax. After more conversation, we said our good-byes, and Dax hit the road, heading for Hercules, California to play a house concert.
It was a couple of years after that before I saw Dax again, though we did speak on the phone several times. Eventually, our schedules worked out in such a way that we were able to perform together. All told, Dax and I played three concerts together, two in Portland and one in Vancouver, Washington. The Vancouver show, at "The Slocum House Theatre," was one of the most delightful times I ever had with Dax. The venue was quite small - about 60 seats or so - which is the style of venue I prefer. I remember the piano being really low to the ground - I had a hard time getting my knees under the keyboard! But what a night that was sharing the stage with Dax. And afterward, he and I had a very nice discussion about life, the universe, and everything.
Just prior to that concert, Dax and I shared time playing a "mall gig" to promote the show. Dax was simply amazing in a mall gig situation. You should have seen it. He would sit down at the piano (or two - sometimes he'd play TWO pianos at the same time - one with each hand), and start playing and within five minutes he'd have a huge crowd buying his CDs. He'd play for ten minutes, sell 20 or 30 CDs, and then take a 30 minute break. It was quite the spectacle, and I was constantly amazed at the natural CHARISMA he had. Something about him appealed to almost everyone. When you combined that with his look, the music, his emotive performance and the unusual things he would do at the piano (playing two of them at a time, muting the piano strings with mallets, and even playing the strings with guitar picks), he just seemed unstoppable. He definitely had the "it" factor. I have never met another pianist who could, simply by sitting down and playing, sell as many CDs as Dax did in such a short period of time.
Over the years, Dax and I became very good friends. I would encourage him, pray for him and with him, and just listen to whatever was going in his head. Dax shared with me many of his thoughts and inner struggles. He seemed to dwell very much on his imperfections, which he was all too painfully aware of. As much as those shortcomings bothered him, he also felt, very strongly, that they were what made him who he was as an artist. We talked about that once, in great detail - how the pain in his life shaped his music and how that pain led him to the piano in the first place. He commented to me that his music was a reflection of his state of mind, that his music was, essentially, "The Mind of Dax." Dax was always at battle with himself, and while those battles kept him on the edge of an emotional precipice, they also inspired great art.
The last time I saw Dax was the fall of 2004. We played a concert together in Portland and he was stunning, as usual. After that, he disappeared - his phone number disconnected. I received an email from him a few months later letting me know that he was in LA recording a new album. That was back in in April of 2005. I responded to him, but never heard back. That was, sadly, the last time I ever heard from him.
Two weeks ago I met up with his brother, Maka, and found out that Dax wasn't doing well at all. He had been living in the streets of LA. I felt an urgency to pray for him, and did so. But less than two weeks later - just three days ago now - Dax had died. He was only thirty years old.
It is such a tragedy. Dax was unique. Truly, one of a kind. He was a man with a big heart, deep thoughts and amazing music. He was always in turmoil, emotionally and spiritually, but those things never really fazed me. I cared for Dax deeply. I felt more connected to Dax than I do most people. I can't explain why, only that I loved him like a brother. Our souls understood each other, somehow. I think that is part of the reason that time and again he kept coming back to our friendship. It was something solid and sure in his drifting, uncertain world.
Dax had such a monumental impact on my music and career. He introduced Kathy Parsons (who writes for Wind and Wire magazine as well as Solo Piano Publications) to my music, who has since become one of the central figures in my career as a pianist. His album, Merciful Dwelling, got me excited about being a pianist and composer again, and inspired new music in me - much of my latest CD Overcome has traces of his influence. The song When the Hard Rains Come on that album is very specifically dedicated to him. Dax, through his example, taught me how play for an audience and entertain them. Dax introduced me to his brother, who got me many of the gigs I still play today. In fact, I'm playing one of those this weekend. Dax's influence can be seen all over my life as a pianist.
Dax, I will miss you. On this "Happy Thanksgiving" weekend, I am so, incredibly grateful for having known you. I only wish, oh HOW I WISH, that I would have been able to somehow speak to you during these last couple of weeks. I cannot help but to feel that I could have made a difference. That today would just be another day and you'd still be playing your incredible music and amazing audiences.
Oh, Dax, my dear friend. My brother. Rest in Peace. You left us all much too soon.
Chances are, you, my reader, have no idea who Dax Johnson was. Well, I want to tell you about him. It's the least I can do, and probably the best thing I can do to honor him. So please, read on. If not for Dax, for me. Let me share a bit of him with you.
I first saw Dax around nine or ten years ago. He was playing an old out-of-tune upright piano at a street market in Portland, Oregon. I remember thinking to myself, "Who is this guy? He's amazing..."
And he truly was. He had an irresistible charisma. If you just stood there watching him play, you were drawn into him. His music was hypnotic, as was the way he moved at the piano. His body was constantly fluid, always moving, weaving, never stopping - riding the emotional wave of his very unique compositions. He was ONE with the instrument, like no one else I had seen before. And his "look" was also unusual for a piano player - he had long, straight black hair, an unshaven face, black street clothes and tattoos. You'd never guess he was a composer for solo piano. He looked far more "heavy metal" than "classical."
On that particular day in Portland, I watched him for awhile and then moved on. I didn't meet Dax that day. I never spoke to him. I was just one of the many people in the crowd, admiring him from a distance. As far as I knew, I'd never see him again.
Well, life is a funny thing...
About two years later, I received an email from Dax. At this point, I had no recollection of who he was and nothing in his email clued me in. He told me he was a fellow pianist based out of Spokane, WA, and that he was a HUGE fan of my music. He thought my CD, The Vigil (which was my newest at the time) was incredible. I thanked him, and told him I really appreciated receiving such a compliment from another piano player. Then he asked if he could send me his own CD to listen to. I said "Sure, go ahead," and a week or so later I received Merciful Dwelling in the mail.
Dax's CD grabbed me immediately. The things Dax did on that album were brave, bold and interesting. He took musical risks I never would never dream of taking on a solo piano album. One of the things that really struck me was that the album was imperfect. It wasn't studio polished - and it didn't matter. The music was RAW energy, pure EMOTION, VIBRANT and alive. Dax's piano music just wrenched at my heart. It was so sad - such painful music - and yet so extraordinarily beautiful. I was completely in love with the album.
I emailed Dax to tell him how much I enjoyed his music, and then he sent me back a link to an article the local paper did on him. The article included a picture of him playing on an old upright in the street (see the clipping at right). That was the moment I realized who I had been chatting with over email - it was that "heavy metal" piano player I saw in Portland a couple years before! I was completely startled by this. THIS guy loves MY piano music? I was taken aback because, by this time, I had an immense respect for him, not just as a pianist, but as an artist.Dax's album, Merciful Dwelling, went on to become one of the single most important influences on my own piano music. No other pianist, aside from George Winston (who I credit with turning me on to the idea of composing for piano in the first place), has had more influence on my musical direction.
After that initial email exchange, Dax and I kept in touch somewhat irregularly by telephone. One day, Dax called me out of the blue to tell me he was coming through my home town and wanted to meet. And so, I invited him into my home. Dax and I hit it off immediately. It was like we had known each other for years, when in fact we had never actually met face to face. I played a new song for him on my piano (I remember playing Ludwig's Dream for him while he laid on the floor with his eyes closed just taking it in) and he played a song for me, one he said was influenced by my music. What an honor that was.Dax then told me he wanted to introduce me to his brother, Maka, who was also his booking agent and manager at that time. Dax wanted to hook me up with him so we could perform together at some point. I thought it was a great idea, and I was quite taken with the idea of playing a concert with Dax. After more conversation, we said our good-byes, and Dax hit the road, heading for Hercules, California to play a house concert.
It was a couple of years after that before I saw Dax again, though we did speak on the phone several times. Eventually, our schedules worked out in such a way that we were able to perform together. All told, Dax and I played three concerts together, two in Portland and one in Vancouver, Washington. The Vancouver show, at "The Slocum House Theatre," was one of the most delightful times I ever had with Dax. The venue was quite small - about 60 seats or so - which is the style of venue I prefer. I remember the piano being really low to the ground - I had a hard time getting my knees under the keyboard! But what a night that was sharing the stage with Dax. And afterward, he and I had a very nice discussion about life, the universe, and everything.
Just prior to that concert, Dax and I shared time playing a "mall gig" to promote the show. Dax was simply amazing in a mall gig situation. You should have seen it. He would sit down at the piano (or two - sometimes he'd play TWO pianos at the same time - one with each hand), and start playing and within five minutes he'd have a huge crowd buying his CDs. He'd play for ten minutes, sell 20 or 30 CDs, and then take a 30 minute break. It was quite the spectacle, and I was constantly amazed at the natural CHARISMA he had. Something about him appealed to almost everyone. When you combined that with his look, the music, his emotive performance and the unusual things he would do at the piano (playing two of them at a time, muting the piano strings with mallets, and even playing the strings with guitar picks), he just seemed unstoppable. He definitely had the "it" factor. I have never met another pianist who could, simply by sitting down and playing, sell as many CDs as Dax did in such a short period of time.
Over the years, Dax and I became very good friends. I would encourage him, pray for him and with him, and just listen to whatever was going in his head. Dax shared with me many of his thoughts and inner struggles. He seemed to dwell very much on his imperfections, which he was all too painfully aware of. As much as those shortcomings bothered him, he also felt, very strongly, that they were what made him who he was as an artist. We talked about that once, in great detail - how the pain in his life shaped his music and how that pain led him to the piano in the first place. He commented to me that his music was a reflection of his state of mind, that his music was, essentially, "The Mind of Dax." Dax was always at battle with himself, and while those battles kept him on the edge of an emotional precipice, they also inspired great art.The last time I saw Dax was the fall of 2004. We played a concert together in Portland and he was stunning, as usual. After that, he disappeared - his phone number disconnected. I received an email from him a few months later letting me know that he was in LA recording a new album. That was back in in April of 2005. I responded to him, but never heard back. That was, sadly, the last time I ever heard from him.
Two weeks ago I met up with his brother, Maka, and found out that Dax wasn't doing well at all. He had been living in the streets of LA. I felt an urgency to pray for him, and did so. But less than two weeks later - just three days ago now - Dax had died. He was only thirty years old.
It is such a tragedy. Dax was unique. Truly, one of a kind. He was a man with a big heart, deep thoughts and amazing music. He was always in turmoil, emotionally and spiritually, but those things never really fazed me. I cared for Dax deeply. I felt more connected to Dax than I do most people. I can't explain why, only that I loved him like a brother. Our souls understood each other, somehow. I think that is part of the reason that time and again he kept coming back to our friendship. It was something solid and sure in his drifting, uncertain world.
Dax had such a monumental impact on my music and career. He introduced Kathy Parsons (who writes for Wind and Wire magazine as well as Solo Piano Publications) to my music, who has since become one of the central figures in my career as a pianist. His album, Merciful Dwelling, got me excited about being a pianist and composer again, and inspired new music in me - much of my latest CD Overcome has traces of his influence. The song When the Hard Rains Come on that album is very specifically dedicated to him. Dax, through his example, taught me how play for an audience and entertain them. Dax introduced me to his brother, who got me many of the gigs I still play today. In fact, I'm playing one of those this weekend. Dax's influence can be seen all over my life as a pianist.
Dax, I will miss you. On this "Happy Thanksgiving" weekend, I am so, incredibly grateful for having known you. I only wish, oh HOW I WISH, that I would have been able to somehow speak to you during these last couple of weeks. I cannot help but to feel that I could have made a difference. That today would just be another day and you'd still be playing your incredible music and amazing audiences.
Oh, Dax, my dear friend. My brother. Rest in Peace. You left us all much too soon.
Dax Johnson, March 29th, 1975 - November 23rd, 2005.
For more information on Dax Johnson, visit his web site, www.daxjohnson.com . You can hear his music there, as well.
Sadly,
David Nevue
The follow up to this post, "In Memory of Dax Johnson, Part 2" is now available.
posted by David Nevue at 12:48 AM
21 Comments:
That was an amazing thing to read, Mr. Nevue. I'm praying for your comfort and peace... Much love.
A beautiful tribute, David.
I probably should have been, but was not aware of Dax's music. I will most certainly check it out.
Sounds like we lost a very special guy.
c-
Very sad news David. I know how much you admired him and he meant so much to you and a lot of people. He will be missed. Find solace in the fact that he is in a far better place than us.
Thank you for writing about your friend Dax, David. I think there are as many different griefs as there are people to experience them. I will pray for you, Dax and his brother. God bless, Tamara
"Because it seems to say that one's as good as another, or two new ones are better than one that's lost. I've been thinking about it a great deal, and it seems to me that although any one sixpence is as good as any other sixpence, not twenty lambs would do instead of one sheep whose face you knew. Somehow, when once you've looked into anybody's eyes, right deep down into them, I mean, nobody will do for that one anymore. Nobody, ever so beautiful or so good, will make up for that one going out of sight."
George MacDonald - At The Back of the North Wind
David,
i'm absolutely stunned. i just learned of Dax Johnson's death through your website. I've been a fan for a while, purchasing my first dax album a few years back when i saw him for the first time playing at saturday market. i moved away to vegas for college and then LA and realized just 10 minutes ago that I haven't checked in on what he's been up to for a while. so i thought i'd just see what was up, so i googled him and found this. man, everything hurts. what terrible, terrible news.
thanks for your words.
john t. woods
Los Angeles, CA
johntwoods@yahoo.com
David,
i'm absolutely stunned. i just learned of Dax Johnson's death through your blog. I've been a fan for a while, purchasing my first dax album a few years back when i saw him for the first time playing at saturday market. i moved away to vegas for college and then relocated to LA and realized just 10 minutes ago that I haven't checked in on what he's been up to for a while. so i thought i'd just see what was up, so i googled him and found this. man, everything hurts. what terrible, terrible news.
john t. woods
Los Angeles, CA
johntwoods@yahoo.com
David, i was so shocked to hear of his death. You know i have been a fan of his (and your) music ever since i first heard it. I'm so sorry that we have lost such a great guy.
Paul Goodman (England)
I will never forget one night flipping thru the channels on the tv one night and hearing this wonderful music. I just stopped and couldnt believe what I was hearing coming from someone that looked like a hard core rocker. I am hoping someone reading this can point me in the right direction so I can buy his CD's. Thank you David for putting up this blog on and amazing and talented human being...so sad.
kittycarlile@hotmail.com
Such sad news. You introduced me to Dax when I attended your concert in Portland last fall. I was mesmerized and fascinated. Thanks for telling the whole story - I feel like I know him, too. And now grieve, as well.
I am one of those people that happened upon Dax playing at a mall in Spokane. After hearing him play for just a little bit, I had to take some of his music home with me. He was an amazing performer. I am listening to one of his CD's right now.
My wife just called me from work to let me know that she was sharing one of Dax's CDs with a coworker. Her coworker enjoyed the music, so together, they went online to check out his website, and she just found out that he had passed away.
I realize that I just found this out several months after the fact, and for that, I'm even more regretful.
My wife and I met Dax just once, briefly, at Lloyd Center. We bought the two CDs he had available at the time, and they became musical staples around our home. Later, when a third CD became available, we bought it, too. His music, and more imnportantly, the brief conversation we had with him that day at Lloyd Center touched us.
I'm not a musician. However, I am a writer, and Dax's music always moved me.
He will be mourned. He will be missed.
There aren't many people I look up to...
Yesterday morning, I was on my way to a Dax show in California. Many of my relatives were there as well hoping to see him. When I arrived, the manager told me that there wouldn't be a performance. Now I do not recall if he told me why, but I woke up thinking of Dax's funeral. The look on his wife's face whom I have met on occasion and the disbelief of his children.
Today is Wednesday, March 15th, 2006 and I am recollecting this dream. I log onto his website where I find information about someone's passing. I'm reading through it and I'm selfishly hoping with all that I have that it is only a friend of Dax, anyone but him. I see they reference him by his birth name Christopher, which I hadn't known was his birth name since I'd only called him Dax, and momentarily, I was relieved. But after all the sadness I felt from the post, I felt compelled to watch one of the memorial videos.
There were pictures of his childhood and below it, his nickname, Dax.
This hit me, and is still hitting me harder than anything has in a long time. I can only explain it that there are very, very few people I look up to and admire in this world.
One was Dax Johnson. He was a musical genius who had love for his family and his fans. Once you heard him play, you saw into his heart and his mind. Most of his songs were about his family; especially his children.
I met him on many occasions in Portland, Seattle, and Spokane. He'd always invite me out to a drink even though I wasn't of age. He even offered to put me and my friends up in a hotel just for coming to see him in Seattle, which I gladly accepted. Every time we spoke, I was his equal, and there was nothing more to it than that.
Seeing him play was the only thing that kept every bad thought from coming into my mind. He meant a lot to me. He made me believe that if he could make it in this world, so could I. If all the things that could darken ones mind could not be ignored, but also not be allowed to take over ones entire self, then I could make it. He’d found the way, all hope was not lost.
The first time I saw him play was at the Clackamas Town Center Mall. My girlfriend and I were walking on the second level to leave, when we heard him. I stopped, and we listened above him. 10 minutes later I wanted to go meet him. We went down, listened some more and I eventually got up the courage to buy a CD (The Random and the Purpose) and ask him to sign it. While he was signing it, I said I really liked the song he was playing. He said, “It’s George Winston”. I replied, “Yea, off his December album, right?” He asked me if I played, I said no, but I wished I had. I thanked him and off we went.
A couple of months later, it was Christmas time. My girlfriend and I were this time looking around for gifts at Pioneer Place in Portland, and Dax was on the bottom floor. His music reached every floor with a resounding presence. We listened for longer this time. My girlfriend offered to buy me his first album for a Christmas Gift and I very much liked that idea. During a break, I asked him to sign it, which he did, and also recognized me. “Hey! The Clackamas guy, right?” Even though I wasn’t from Clackamas, I had no problem with being attached to the nickname. He only had a few minutes to talk and have a break so I thanked him and left him to play again.
Every single time I saw Dax, I was given the feeling of acceptance. He always seemed to talk someone for who they were. I once drove to Spokane from Portland to watch him play at the Big Easy, which was coincidentally one that they recorded. I saw him reach out to so many people. I even got my hands on the Dax bumper stickers that people had been sporting in Spokane and had it on my car back in my hometown. He was definitely a local celebrity, and for good reason. Watch the DVD, you’ll see why.
The last time I saw him play was in Portland, with you Mr. Nevue. He sat next to me and my girlfriend, while another pianist, Michael Allan Harrison, performed. As always, he joked around and talked with me until he had to go pick up his wife from the Airport.
That was the last time I saw him.
In a world full of desolation and destitute endeavors, Dax made me hopeful. I felt that he saw things for what they were, and found a way to encourage these perceptions into his music. As you called it Mr. Nevue, the Mind of Dax. Speaking without words, only his piano(s).
If only he had showed up to my fictional concert in California, if only I had been able to speak with him, I would have proudly stood by him through all his troubles. "If only" must be the most popular way to begin a sentence when dealing with someone who was so obviously cut short. If only... it wasn't a dream. Or rather, if only this was.
I'll remember you and the bottomless memories you provided me Dax, Always.
"Bo from Clackamas"
bojitt@gmail.com
Hello,
My name is Rebecca Kramer and I am the House Manager at Slocum House Theatre. This is the first I have heard of Dax passing. My heart is very sad. I enjoyed his music. My prayers are with you and his family.
I'm not a musician of any sorts but I lived the exact moments of your opening comments about Dax. I had never heard of him before but my wife and myself both traveling through Portland back in 2003 stumbled upon Dax playing in the middle of the mall and being one to never care for any sort of music other than heavy metal, I found myself captivated by the intensity and the emotion coming from his songs and his overall character...Simply amazing to say the least. Hearing and seeing Dax play ended up turning what was to be a short excursion in the mall into a most joyful moment in life that I enjoyed until it was over. I felt like he was reaching right in to my heart and my soul and exposing everything I had inside of me and letting it free. Without ever knowing him I can honestly say that it is a very sad loss to the world that he is no longer with us...
I'm not a musician of any sorts but I lived the exact moments of your opening comments about Dax. I had never heard of him before but my wife and myself both traveling through Portland back in 2003 stumbled upon Dax playing in the middle of the mall and being one to never care for any sort of music other than heavy metal, I found myself captivated by the intensity and the emotion coming from his songs and his overall character...Simply amazing to say the least. Hearing and seeing Dax play ended up turning what was to be a short excursion in the mall into a most joyful moment in life that I enjoyed until it was over. I felt like he was reaching right in to my heart and my soul and exposing everything I had inside of me and letting it free. Without ever knowing him I can honestly say that it is a very sad loss to the world that he is no longer with us...
I'm am a friend of a young lady who knew Dax very well. He was a dear friend of hers. She just now found out he passed away. She doesn't have internet so i'm looking up information for her. She really needs to know where he is buried. SO if anyone can tell where that would be appreciated very much so.
Thank you!
Kari
This site touched my heart. We all miss Dax so much, thank you for taking the time to put together such a beautifully profound site. He was a one of a kind... we will never forget him and I will continue to give his cd's to friends all over the world (as I did long before he passed).
Jeannette Park
Whoa, i just stumbled across this site while trying to remember the name of the pianist who used to play outside my store at clackamas town center years ago. So sad to hear he passed!! He was SO talented, i bought one of his CD's that is probably packed away right now (i moved) I used to manage the cutlery store and he'd play RIGHT outside my store sometimes, i LOVED it. So sad
I was very curious who wrote that beautiful pianosong: random and the purpos. Now, i found out what a great creative artist he was.
Touching my heart with love.. Thank You for writing this down.
And Dax your music will go on...
RIP
Michiel
Thank you deeply.
I recently discovered Dax Johnson and I cant tell u enough how much I love his piano solos Im actually going to buy his albums today! He's an amazing guy with stellar talent!
Im so sorry he died so young! This is a great loss to the world of music.
Im truly saddened that he's no more. And ur tribute to Dax was so very touching I cried.
TY! I hv his music playing my blog right now. It just takes me to another world. May his soul RIP!
Keshi.
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