If the number of times you’ve seen a musical artist in concert is any indication of how much you enjoy their body of work, then Dave Mason must rank among my Top Five. Between 1975 and 2014, I saw the guy perform nine times. Whether it was at an outdoor amphitheater, a grand music hall, a college gymnasium or a small club, Mason never failed me with his choice of material, his alternately warm/gruff voice and his assured command of the guitar, both electric and acoustic. And for a guy who never sought the spotlight and claimed to feel a bit uncomfortable as a front man, he had an affable way about him that always made for a delightful evening.

This week, sadly, I must report that Mason has died at age 79. He had a mighty colorful career, mostly as a solo artist but also as a founding member of the esoteric British band Traffic and as a collaborative side man with a bevy of other artists over the years. While many of his peers in the business focused on volume or virtuosity, Mason seemed more interested in nuance and feel, combining American blues, English folk and melodic pop into something almost fluid and much more personal.

Born in 1946, Mason was one of those British kids who, in an attempt to find something to relieve the boredom and hardship of post-war life in England, discovered music. Like John Lennon, Keith Richards, Pete Townshend and others in the same time and environment, Mason found Elvis, Buddy Holly and early rock and roll, and the blues, all American-born genres that excited him, energized him.

Mason was only 15 when, after learning to play guitar, he joined his first band The Jaguars, and then The Hellions, playing clubs in his native Worcester as well as Birmingham and eventually the rock club mecca of Hamburg, Germany, just as The Beatles and others had done. Drummer/singer Jim Capaldi was also in The Hellions, and among the bands they performed with was The Spencer Davis Group, which featured the astounding vocals and keyboards of Steve Winwood.

Sometimes Mason and Capaldi would jam with Winwood after shows, bringing in sax and flute player Chris Wood from another band. The foursome found that they enjoyed the music they were making, giving Winwood the reason he needed to leave Spencer Davis, and they formed their own group, which they named Traffic (after waiting to cross a busy street one day, as the story goes).

The music that resulted from the group’s retreat to a quiet cottage in the Berkshires was a fascinating amalgam of folk, jazz, rock and psychedelic pop, using everything from Mellotron and sitar to flute and fuzz guitar. The band’s early work helped redefine what a rock ensemble could be—loose yet precise, pastoral yet experimental. Mason’s simple and straightforward folk-rock songs both contrasted with and complimented the more complex, haunting rock jams the Winwood/Capaldi partnership came up with. Although that diversity was key to the band’s appeal, it also caused an internal tension that was never really resolved.

In 1967, Traffic had back-to-back hits right out of the gate in the UK. The infectious Winwood-Capaldi tune “Paper Sun” was a Top Five hit, and Mason’s quirky “Hole in My Shoe” just missed #1 there. Winwood, who preferred the give and take of jamming to produce a song, made no bones about not liking Mason’s songs much. “‘Hole in My Shoe’ was a trite little song that didn’t mean anything,” said Winwood years later. Mason said he felt like the odd man out, and shortly after the release of Traffic’s debut album “Mr. Fantasy” (a Top Ten success in England), he left the group and headed to London and then Los Angeles to explore musical possibilities there.

“I was young, and the early fame freaked me out a bit,” said Mason. “The other guys had a chemistry and a lifestyle I wasn’t really a part of, so I impulsively decided to try going solo. I hung around London for a while, then moved to the States.”

During that period, he befriended Jimi Hendrix and ended up contributing to his “Electric Ladyland” LP, playing acoustic 12-string on “All Along the Watchtower,” a song that he would eventually cover quite convincingly on a solo LP and in concert years later. Mason later described the experience as inspirational, recalling the moment of sitting across from Hendrix and laying down the track as among the most vivid of his career. “Jimi created a space where anything could happen,” Mason said. “You just had to be ready when it did.”

Mason earned a reputation as a sought-after collaborator and sideman, working with all kinds of artists across genres and generations. His adaptability allowed him to move between projects with ease, whether contributing guitar lines, songwriting or production insight. He was invited to add sitar to The Rolling Stones’ “Street Fighting Man” in 1968 and was in on some of the star-studded sessions for George Harrison’s “All Things Must Pass” LP in 1970. Five years later, he guested on guitar for Paul McCartney and Wings’ “Listen What the Man Said.” (In his 2024 memoir, Mason good-naturedly referred to himself as “the Forrest Gump of rock.”)  

Back in 1968, Traffic was touring the U.S. as a trio, ending up in a New York studio afterwards to work on their follow-up album, entitled simply “Traffic.” The band didn’t have enough material for a whole album, so Winwood reluctantly agreed to ask Mason to return, and Mason came to the conclusion that he may have been rash in leaving. Among the songs he brought to the recording sessions was “Feelin’ Alright?,” which would end up a bonafide rock classic. Some said the song expressed Mason’s ambivalence about his time with Traffic (“Seems I’ve got to have a change in scene…“), but he denied this. “It’s just a song about a girl. It’s just another relationship gone bad.” Traffic’s version is sublime, but it was Joe Cocker’s compelling rendition that got most of the airplay, then and now. Three Dog Night, Grand Funk and Mason himself also recorded it.

Still, the uneasy vibes between Mason and the others remained. Winwood felt Traffic was his band and bristled when Mason’s songs upstaged his. Recalled Mason in his 2024 memoir, “He told me, ‘I don’t like the way you write. I don’t like the way you sing. I don’t like the way you play. And we don’t want you in the band any more.'” He got the message and left again, although it turns out it didn’t much matter, because Winwood put Traffic on hiatus for a spell, choosing to collaborate with Eric Clapton in the short-lived supergroup Blind Faith in 1969.

Mason returned to L.A., where he’d been making friends with many in the red-hot music climate there. He found himself hanging out with the likes of Stephen Stills, Leon Russell, Gram Parsons, Mama Cass Elliot, Delaney and Bonnie and others, and often performed on their albums (credited and uncredited). He and Elliot recorded a fairly decent album together in 1969, with Mason writing the majority of material and Elliot offering up her fine harmonies, but it would be another two years before it was released to a lukewarm reception. (You’d be well advised to listen to “Walk to the Point,” “Too Much Truth, Too Much Love” and “Pleasing You” to hear the best moments.)

By early 1970, Mason had written and recorded demos of a group of eight songs, and pitched them to a few companies. Bob Krasnow and Tommy LiPuma, who would become industry moguls running Warners and Elektra years later, were just starting out their label, Blue Thumb Records, and when they heard the demos, they were eager to sign Mason. “The songs were so strong, you had to be deaf not to hear it,” said LiPuma. “He was such a great player and songwriter.”

They offered the budget to bring in a stellar cast of players for the sessions: Jim Gordon and Carl Radle from Delaney and Bonnie’s band, Leon Russell on keyboards, singers Bonnie Bramlett and Rita Coolidge, and LiPuma himself co-producing with Mason. The result was the aptly titled “Alone Together” (solo but with plenty of help), easily Mason’s best and most consistent LP. Critics loved it and fans flocked to it, and it peaked at an impressive #22 on the US charts.

The songs were deeply melodic, and Mason’s distinctive 12-string guitar and husky, soulful vocals shone particularly brightly on “World in Changes” and “Sad and Deep as You.” The infectious leadoff track, “Only You and I Know,” had a disappointing showing as the single, stalling at #42 in the US (although Delaney and Bonnie’s cover version the next year reached #22 and turned a lot of heads). Mason was a minstrel at heart, but he also played a mean electric guitar, demonstrated most clearly on “Shouldn’t Have Took More Than You Gave” and especially “Look at You, Look at Me,” where his solo in the final minutes will have you picking your jaw up off the floor.

It was at this point that Mason made a fateful decision to play hardball with his record company. He insisted on making a double album, half studio and half live, and he wanted a better contract too, but the label balked at both demands. He went so far as to abscond with master tapes of the sessions in progress, and that move didn’t work out well. “Mason wanted out because Columbia was offering him a deal,” said LiPuma. “‘Alone Together’ sold well, and he was becoming an arena-rock draw on the road. But instead of negotiating, he took our tapes, which we saw as blackmail.” What Mason didn’t know is LiPuma had a back-up set of masters, and with them, he cobbled together “Headkeeper,” an album made without Mason’s approval that included four new but demo-like studio tracks and five live songs performed at L.A.’s Troubadour in 1972.

Because Mason was unhappy with the unfinished tracks, and he hadn’t approved the album’s song selection, mixing or cover art, he declared it “little more than a bootleg” and urged fans to avoid it. It wasn’t bad, but it could’ve been much better (it could only muster #50 on U.S. charts). It was an ill-advised turn of events that hurt his career momentum.  He couldn’t record elsewhere until the business mess could be resolved, so he went out on the road, touring relentlessly, which made him a lot of money and became a way of life for him.

Columbia ended up signing him a year later and bought out the Blue Thumb contract, and their mostly amicable relationship lasted throughout the 1970s. The Columbia debut, 1973’s “It’s Like You Never Left,” sold reasonably well and was a favorite with Mason fans. Among its high points were a reworked, superior version of “Headkeeper,” a great little instrumental jam called “Sidetracked,” and a lovely ballad, “The Lonely One,” that features Stevie Wonder’s incomparable harmonica.

Mason’s solid covers of “Watchtower” and Sam Cooke’s “Bring It On Home to Me” highlight his 1974 album, simply titled “Dave Mason,” which also included excellent originals like “Show Me Some Affection” and “Every Woman.” His 1975 LP “Split Coconut” showed a growing sameness about his songs, but there were still a few tracks that showed he hadn’t lost his touch (“Give Me a Reason Why” and “You Can Lose It”). As Peter Frampton’s juggernaut “Frampton Comes Alive!” soared up the charts in 1976, Columbia rushed out a lookalike package for Mason’s “Certified Live” double album, which was pretty damn good, but sales were flat.

Mason needed the one thing he’d never had yet — a hit single. That came with his guitar compatriot Jim Krueger’s great song “We Just Disagree.” Its lyrics seemed to hit a nerve with the music-listening public; whether you’re married or just dating, when you feel you’re no longer compatible, you throw in the towel, hopefully amicably:  “So let’s leave it alone, ’cause we can’t see eye to eye, /There ain’t no good guy, there ain’t no bad guy, /There’s only you and me, and we just disagree…“. The recording was crisp and polished, as was the excellent “Let It Flow” album it came from. FM radio was good to Mason in 1977, putting “So High,” “Mystic Traveler” and “Let It Go, Let It Flow” in heavy rotation, and “We Just Disagree” reached #12 on the Top 40 charts. One more gold album came in 1978, “Mariposa de Oro,” which sounded like a slightly inferior sequel to “Let It Flow” — gorgeous production but only a few strong songs (“So Good to Be Home,” “Warm Desire” and a cover of “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow”).

The pop music scene changed as the Seventies became the Eighties, and Mason found it no longer suited him. His last LP for Columbia, “Old Crest on a New Wave,” alludes to the invasion of new-wave bands (and pop/dance artists) that would dominate the proceedings for the next decade or so. Said Mason in the ’90s, “The latest flavor was something I didn’t want to be any part of. I didn’t fit into the business at that point.” Embroiled in a contractual dispute with Columbia Records, Mason toured with Krueger as a duet act, then released “Two Hearts” on MCA Records in 1987, which turned out to be his last LP on a major label.  

I almost don’t want to mention his short stint in Fleetwood Mac in 1994-95 for the largely forgettable “Time” album, mentioned on a few “Worst Albums of the 1990s” lists. Lindsay Buckingham and Stevie Nicks were gone, and Christine McVie, who had quit touring, was on the sessions only as a favor to the label, so it was a radically different lineup with Mason, rockabilly guitarist Billy Burnette and Southern soul singer Bekka Bramlett, daughter of Delaney and Bonnie. A good time was not had by all.

It wouldn’t be until 2008 when Mason added to his catalog with “26 Letters, 12 Notes” on a Sony subsidiary label. No one noticed (I admit it went under my radar too), but when I first heard it a few years ago, I was thrilled by the quality of songs and production. The blues groove of “Good 2 U,” the inventive melodic lines of “How Do I Get to Heaven” and “Passing Thru the Flame,” the pretty acoustic/electric instrumental “El Toro” — these rank up there with Mason’s better work, I’m pleased to say. 

Mason was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2004 as part of Traffic. Chris Wood had died in 1983, but Mason, Winwood and Capaldi all attended and seemed to get along reasonably well, participating in the end-of-evening jam of “Feelin’ Alright” with Keith Richards, Jackson Browne, Tom Petty, Jeff Lynne, The Temptations and ZZ Top. 

Over the past 15-20 years, Mason had remained active, performing periodically. During the COVID shutdown, just for fun, he convened a virtual band online called Dave Mason and The Quarantines that included Sammy Hagar, Michael McDonald, Mick Fleetwood, and Patrick Simmons, Tom Johnston and John McFee of The Doobie Brothers to cut a new version of “Feelin’ Alright” that’s well worth a viewing on YouTube. A recording is on my Spotify playlist at the end

Mason was significantly active in philanthropies, including Little Kids Rock, a non-profit that promotes music education for disadvantaged children; YogaBlue, which promotes yoga as a therapy for those in substance abuse recovery; and Rock Our Vets, which provides food and clothing and access to computers for homeless veterans.

I last saw Mason in 2014 at a members-only private show at the Grammy Museum in L.A., and while he played only 40 minutes, he didn’t disappoint. His voice and guitar skills were still mighty impressive.

Two more Mason LPs came out in recent years that escaped my attention until this week. In 2020, he recorded “Alone Together Again,” on which he revisited the songs from his 1970 LP, most of which were merely serviceable, but his new take on “Look at You, Look at Me” is incredible, so I included it on the playlist below. Then in 2023, he collaborated with guitar wizard Joe Bonamassa and singer Michael McDonald, among others, on a captivating set of songs called “A Shade of Blues” that really impressed me.

In 2024, Mason announced the cancellation of all of his 2025 tour dates due to “ongoing health challenges,” one of which my wife and her friends had been planning to attend. Though he originally planned to reschedule these dates, he ended up retiring from touring while saying he would continue to occasionally release new material.

In light of the public disdain Winwood held toward Mason over the years, it was somewhat surprising (maybe disingenuous) that he released a complimentary statement this week in the wake of Mason’s death: “Dave was part of Traffic during its earliest chapter, and played an important role in shaping the band’s sound and identity during that time. Those years remain a special part of the band’s story, and Dave’s contribution to them is not forgotten. His place in that history will always be remembered. His songwriting, musicianship, and distinctive spirit helped create music that has lasted far beyond its era, and continues to mean so much to listeners around the world.”

I like the way a Facebook page called Sunset Blvd. Records summarized Mason: “In songs that explored love, separation and the passage of time, he offered listeners something both intimate and universal. As his voice fades from the stage, it remains preserved in recordings that continue to speak with clarity and grace. His songs never shouted for attention, but they stayed with you, and in the long arc of popular music, that quiet persistence may be the most enduring legacy of all.”

Mason may have put it best himself in a 2020 interview: “I’m not a rock star, let’s put it that way. I never wanted to be. I just wanted to write great music, make some money and have fun.”

Rest in peace, Dave. Your songs, your performances and your inherently good nature will remain a vital part of my musical memories from my formative years and beyond.

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