TOMMY BOLIN

(1951 – 1976)
MUSIC ::: ROCK & ROLL

Tommy Bolin came out of Denver and Boulder like a weather system—sudden, electric, impossible to fence in. A Zephyr by name and nature, he carried jazz curiosity, blues blood, and rock abandon in the same hands, never stopping long enough to let the categories catch up.

By the time Billy Cobham cut Spectrum, Bolin wasn’t a guest—he was the future, slipping fusion into rock without a lecture. He could play fast, sure, but speed wasn’t the trick. Color was. Space. Risk. Then James Gang cracked open on Bang! and Bolin turned a power trio inside out, smuggling funk and soul into the engine room. Miami followed—heat, swagger, nerves exposed.

When Richie Blackmore exited Deep Purple, Bolin didn’t fill a vacancy—he changed the temperature. Come Taste the Band wasn’t replacement rock; it was reroute rock. A record that still feels like a dare. Barry Fey saw it early, Jeff Beck heard it clearly, and players everywhere clocked the truth: Bolin wasn’t chasing licks, he was chasing possibility—the same restless streak that links him to innovators like Domenic Troiano.

Tommy Bolin is what happens when talent outruns the map.

A brief blaze. A permanent influence.

Not louder—wider.