Everything about Joey DeFrancesco, the master Hammond organ player who died last week at 51, was larger than life, especially his talent. In addition to being the premier jazz organist of his generation, he played excellent trumpet and saxophone and frequently even sang — not badly, either.

DeFrancesco took all those instruments in his stride — not to mention piano, flugelhorn, and a few more — as well as whole genres of music. He was undeniably a jazz musician fundamentally, but you could just as easily file his albums under rhythm-and-blues, soul music, pop, or whatever. When he collaborated with the singer-songwriter Van Morrison on the album “You’re Driving Me Crazy” in 2018, it wasn’t as if Mr. Morrison was using DeFrancesco as a kind of a passport to legitimize him for one of his occasional forays into jazz — to make this pop star acceptable in the jazz  world — but that both collaborators were already on the same page and speaking the same language.

To that end, DeFrancesco had perhaps the most diverse range of repertoire of any jazzman, even amongst those many deliberately diverse players on the contemporary scene. In 2001 he released “Ballads and Blues,” an album that was considerably more memorable than the title. He knew more tunes in more different styles of music than anybody. He played all the jazz standards that everybody expects, like “Bye Bye Blackbird” and all of Cole Porter and George Gershwin, but also pop and soul hits, movie themes, rare cuts and deep grooves.  

You never knew whether his next album would be the songbook of John Coltrane or Michael Jackson. His Grammy-nominated “Never Can Say Goodbye: The Music of Michael Jackson” is the major jazz interpretation of Jackson’s oeuvre; I don’t know of another such album, nor do I want to.  

DeFrancesco’s perfect setting was the classic 1960s-style soul jazz organ combo, with guitar and drums, plus maybe a sax — but, like all the B3 masters, he played with such a strong left hand that he put bass players out of work. Still, it would be hard to think of a musician who worked with a wider range of musical partners, or a player who was more thoroughly invested in the past, present, and future of the music.  

He not only acknowledged his predecessors, those pioneers who reinvented the Hammond B3 organ, he even made a pair of albums with one of them, like Jimmy Smith. Double-Hammond team-ups like “Incredible” (2000) and “Legacy” (2005) are exceedingly rare, but he also joined forces with his fellow “Paesano on the B3,” Tony Monaco, on several projects. He released full-length tributes to both Smith and Don Patterson, and worked extensively with his father, “Papa” John DeFrancesco (who has survived him), all of whom were Philadelphia-centric jazz organ giants.

His sound was as big as all outdoors, but he always knew exactly what to play and what not to play. His various collaborations with full-sized big bands always underscored his restraint, his taste, and his subtlety. The Hammond B3 is, in effect, an orchestra unto itself, and thus when he worked with Philly’s City Rhythms Orchestra on several projects (I had the thrill of seeing the combination live at Birdland), it was always amazing to see the two halves of the equation intertwined in a pas-de-deux: a single man with the force and power — not to mention the sheer volume — of a 16-piece orchestra on one hand, an entire orchestra that moved with the specificity and precision of a single player on the other. 

My single favorite DeFrancesco moment is quite possibly his team-up with the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra, only three years ago in pre-Covid 2019. Duke Ellington’s “New Orleans Suite” from 1970 is the legendary maestro’s only extended work incorporating an electric organ into the ensemble. Because of the logistics of getting everything on the same stage, I had despaired of ever hearing the suite performed live in concert. It had been well worth waiting for.  

The opening movement, “Blues for New Orleans,” is a thing of unrestrained joy, the two halves of the orchestra playing back and forth, each addressing and then responding to the other. Not only did DeFrancesco blow everybody away on organ, no surprise, but then he did the same on trumpet on Ellington’s “Portrait of Louis Armstrong.” 

The performance deserves to be released as a CD or even a DVD, since there is a video of the livestream that shows DeFrancesco reaching an insanely contagious amazing kind of rapture as he solos, as well the JALCO bandsmen grinning appreciatively in a way that illustrates how DeFrancesco’s joy was irresistible.

DeFranco could play the saddest and most mournful blues you ever heard, as if lamenting the end of a life or of a love affair, then turn things around — not to the tempo but the attitude — and demonstrate that he understand well both the romantic and the erotic implications of his instrument.  

After that, he would shift gears again and turn any club or even concert hall into a full-on carnival, making it simply impossible to stay in your seat without parading down the aisles. As Vincent Gardner, who served as musical director for the 2019 “New Orleans Suite,” said when introducing him, “Every time you see that on stage” — meaning DeFrancesco’s Hammond B3 — “you know it’s going to be a party.”