Meet Jason Rigby: The Tenor Saxophone Whisperer You Need to Hear
Some musicians seem born with sound in their bones. Jason Rigby is one of them.
Born on a U.S. Naval base in Yokosuka, Japan, to a Navy family with deep Sicilian and Irish roots, Jason had already lived in Hawaii and Texas before his family landed in Lakewood, Ohio, when he was just five. But it wasn’t geography that shaped his path—it was sound.
One evening, when Jason was ten, something on the local Cleveland jazz radio station stopped him cold. It was Coleman Hawkins’ legendary 1939 recording of Body and Soul. “That sound stopped me in my tracks,” Jason remembers. “I knew that was where I wanted to exist—inside that huge sound and soulful playing.” And from that moment, the saxophone wasn’t just an instrument—it was home.
Jason grew up in a tight-knit family (he’s one of 33 cousins!) and music was woven into everyday life. Through middle school and high school, he played in jazz bands and choirs, soaking up Cleveland’s thriving jazz scene and studying with local tenor sax hero Ernie Krivda. He cut his teeth on stages around the city, learning from musicians who would shape his voice and vision: Carmen Castaldi, Chip Stevens, Dan Wall, Mark Gondor and holiday concert appearances by Jamey Haddad and Joe Lovano. His high school and college mentors, John Drotleff, Gerry Wondrak, Tony Leonardi, Kent Engelhardt and James Umble, were formative and left deep impressions on him.
After high school, Jason studied at Youngstown State University, DePaul University, and eventually the Manhattan School of Music in New York City—where everything exploded creatively. He learned from heavyweights Dick Oatts, Rich Perry, Mike Abene and Ludmila Ulehla, but it was the endless jam sessions and collaborations with classmates (many of whom are now jazz luminaries themselves) that truly sharpened his sound. “I was playing three sessions a day—I couldn’t get enough.”
Jason's first big exposure in New York came playing with the Vanguard Jazz Orchestra, a dream gig for any jazz musician. From there, he dove into the experimental downtown scene while also performing with jazz greats across Europe and the U.S. He joined Cameron Brown’s band, toured with guitarist Scott Dubois, gigged and recorded with Eivind Opsvik and Kris Davis, became a vital part of drummer Mark Guiliana’s genre-pushing projects (HEERNT, Jazz Quartet, Space Heroes, and BEAT Music), and held his own with legends like John Patitucci and Billy Hart.
Jason’s saxophone voice is bold, soulful, and unmistakably his own—rooted in tradition but always stretching toward something new. Whether he’s leading his own ensemble with analog synths and layered percussion or holding down a blazing solo in a free-form trio, his playing carries a kind of calm fire—patient, passionate, and deeply human.
He’s been called a “creative force” and a “fresh spirit in jazz,” and you don’t have to be a jazz aficionado to hear why. There’s something in the way Jason plays—thoughtful, exploratory, alive—that speaks across genres and generations.
And now, with his upcoming duo record MAYHEM (created with longtime collaborator Mark Guiliana and L.A.-based sonic wizard Pete Min), Jason is about to pull even more listeners into his expansive sound world.
When you first hear Jason Rigby play, you might find yourself scanning your mental Rolodex of saxophone greats, trying to place what exactly is happening. There’s a thunderous depth in his tone, a kind of spiritual searching that feels like Coltrane—but then it shifts, slips into something looser, more abstract. That’s Wayne. Or maybe Dewey. But wait, is that... Squarepusher?
Rigby isn’t easy to pin down—and that’s the point. His playing is rooted in the deep tradition of the tenor saxophone, but his voice pushes far beyond. With influences ranging from the tenor titans of jazz like Sonny Rollins, Joe Henderson and Joe Farrell to heavy-hitters outside the horn world—Elvin Jones, McCoy Tyner, Miles Davis, even Led Zeppelin, Sly Stone and Photek—Rigby has carved out a sound that’s as exploratory as it is grounded.