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Reflections on a JAM – and the Jam We’re In

Art tends to both reflect and affect the cultural milieu in which it’s created. That seems especially so in the case of Jazz music.

April is designated Jazz Appreciation Month (JAM). Reflecting on that during this April revealed few aspects of Jazz history more worthy of appreciation than its significant role in Civil Rights. This is in homage to just a few of the most notable highlights – out of countless works worthy of mention.

Billie Holiday – “Strange Fruit”

It has been argued that the recording on April 30, 1939 and subsequent release of this song was the first act of America’s Civil Rights movement. Indeed, an entire book was written to make the point – Strange Fruit: Billie Holiday and the Biography of a Song by David Margolick. (Echo Press, 2001. It is also found as Strange Fruit: Billie Holiday, Cafe Society, and an Early Cry for Civil Rights. Running Press, 2000.)

The details vary with who’s telling the story, but one account of the song’s creation is that the incomparable Lady Day was accompanied by Frankie Newton’s band at Café Society in Greenwich Village when a fan approached her with a poem he had written excoriating lynchings. The song is credited to a “Lewis Allan”; his real name was Abel Meeropol, an English teacher from the Bronx. Holiday and Newton’s pianist, Sonny White, worked out a melody and the rest is history.

It’s better, though, to read the book. It presents as more likely that Meeropol created the melody as well, and had it performed publicly a few times before it found its way to Billie. Sonny White did create the recording’s piano intro. Milt Gabler’s Commodore recorded the song when Columbia found it too hot to handle.

If you have ever heard Billie Holiday’s original rendition, you’ve likely never forgotten it. If you haven’t, as with any piece mentioned here, you owe it to yourself. She uses understatement (soft, even tones and precise diction) for one of the most effective presentations of smoldering rage ever captured. One can only imagine experiencing it live. Most accounts speak of stunned, total silence following the song’s harrowing conclusion – giving way eventually to a groundswell of applause.  It was Time Magazine’s Song of the Century.

Yusef Lateef – “Juba Juba”

The album The Blue Yusef Lateef (Atlantic 1508) contains this striking piece that manages to capture a vast swath of American music in 4:20. Based on the field holler/work song format and inspired by a prison song, the performance features wailing blues harmonica and Lateef’s masterful jazz flute. Cissy Houston’s Sweet Inspirations frame the proceedings with a gorgeous spiritual-infused vocal background. The only actual word they sing is “freedom”.

Lateef’s liner notes dedicate the piece to nineteenth-century dancer William Henry Lane, known as Juba. The art of Pattin’ Juba (also called Hambone) involved clapping hands or slapping them on thighs, knees, or ribs for complex rhythmic patterns to accompany dance. Juba was an ingenious African-American form utilizing the human body as percussive instrument.

For the listener, though, the piece needs no explanation.

Duke Ellington – “Come Sunday”

The centerpiece of Ellington’s momentous suite Black, Brown and Beige is this beloved hymn-like ballad that was the forerunner to Duke’s celebrated “sacred concerts”. Apart from rehearsal performance, the premiere was in Carnegie Hall on January 23, 1943. While words weren’t necessary to convey the meaning, Duke added lyrics later. The refrain: “Ooh Lord, dear Lord above/ God almighty, God of love/ Please look down, and see my people through.”  

The February 1958 version featuring Mahalia Jackson on Columbia (CK65566) is especially recommended.

Nina Simone – “Mississippi Goddam”

For the gifted, classically-trained pianist Eunice Kathleen Waymon, a career as a concert pianist was foreclosed before having a chance to commence. (Need we say why?) This gave the world the one-and-only singer/pianist Nina Simone. Any number of her recordings could be mentioned here, of course, but no such list would be complete without “Mississippi Goddam”. (The song’s title is usually spelled without the “n”.)

Simone recorded it often and was incapable of a poor performance. A special treat is available, however: you can watch her perform it live in Holland in 1965 on her Jazz Icons DVD. Whatever version is available, though, the most striking aspect is one of contrast.

If one were to listen casually, paying no attention to the lyrics, the impression would be of an irresistibly jaunty, even catchy, pop tune. Just reading the lyrics, however, leaves the unmistakable impression of exasperated fury. Paying attention to the integrated performance rewards the careful listener with the compelling experience of art.

Charles Mingus – “Fables of Faubus” and “Meditations on Integration”

Composer, arranger and bassist extraordinaire, Mingus is another artist for whom many brilliant works could be cited. Let’s do two.

The trauma surrounding the integration of Little Rock’s Central High School in 1957 inspired “Fables of Faubus”. It is available as an instrumental, as on the Columbia album Mingus, Ah, Um. The version you definitely want to hear, however, is from 1960 on Barnaby Candid Series Z 30561, Charles Mingus Presents the Charles Mingus Quartet. Here you get the benefit of the “vocals” between Mingus and drummer Danny Richmond as they heap invective on Arkansas governor Orval Faubus and other deserving targets. Eric Dolphy’s scathing alto sax puts finishing touches on a classic satirical put-down.

It is said Mingus considered the band he took on tour to Europe in 1964 his greatest ever. You’ll get no argument here. Even considering the formidable competition other groups present, Eric Dolphy (as, bc, and f), Clifford Jordan (ts), Jaki Byard (p), and the ever-present Dannie Richmond (d) created astounding fireworks with Mingus’s bass, apparently every night. (Johnny Coles (t) was sidelined by illness not long into the tour.) Luckily, this group was both recorded (Prestige 34001) and filmed (Jazz Icons DVD).

From this tour emerged one of Mingus’s masterpieces, the complex and beautiful “Meditations on Integration”. The DVD has three different versions. With improvisers of this caliber, each version has much to commend it. The tour-de-force recorded in Belgium, however, is astounding. Dolphy is at his incomparable best on both bass clarinet and flute; Byard takes us on a tour of 20th Century piano form Harlem stride to swing to bebop and beyond; and Jordan does some serious testifying on tenor. The band is telepathic in response to each other’s inventions; seeing creativity on this level with such skill and passion is a thrill.

John Coltrane – “Alabama” (Live at Birdland and Jazz Casual)

Musicians and fans alike eagerly awaited each recording of Coltrane’s Classic Quartet (McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Garrison, Elvin Jones); Live At Birdland (Impulse A-50) was no different. The incendiary “Afro-Blue” was thrilling, but the haunting “Alabama” was the perfect example of no-lyrics-necessary.

One of the most heinous acts of the 1960s was the bombing by Klan cowards of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham on September 15, 1963. Set to maximize harm on a Sunday morning, the bomb injured many and killed four little girls – Addie Mae Collins, Denise McNair, Carole Robertson, and Cynthia Wesley.

Even on first listening, there can be no doubt what “Alabama” is, and what it means.

Luckily, this too has a version to be viewed. On December 7, 1963, ‘Trane’s Quartet appeared on Jazz critic Ralph Gleason’s TV show, Jazz Casual. The DVD features “Afro-Blue”, “Alabama”, and “Impressions”.

Max Roach – “The Dream/It’s Time”, “Mendacity”; and We Insist! Freedom Now Suite (entire album)

Chattahoochee Red (Columbia FC 37376) is not one of master drummer Max Roach’s most famous albums, but it features the two-part “The Dream/It’s Time”. The piece opens with an amazing duet of sorts: Max drumming accompaniment to Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech. It then morphs into “It’s Time”, the title track from a marvelous Roach record on Impulse (A-16).

Another Impulse album (A-8), and one of his best, Percussion Bitter Sweet, gives us Max’s celebrated tribute to Marcus Garvey, “Garvey’s Ghost” and “Mendacity”, a send-up of the dishonesty that is inevitably built into systemic racism. Each cut highlights the remarkable vocalist Abbey Lincoln, who had rejected record producers’ attempts to rely on her physical beauty to sell comfortably popular music.

Then there is We Insist! Freedom Now Suite, originally recorded on Candid in 1960 and re-released by Columbia (JC 36390) twenty years later. Abbey Lincoln is featured throughout an album that took all-in commitment from the leader and each musician to achieve.

Start with “Driva’ Man” as it invokes history’s harsh realities, then the elegant and hopeful “Freedom Day”, before proceeding (if you dare) to “Tryptich: Prayer/Protest/Peace”. On the latter’s challenging journey, Lincoln’s wordless vocals pair with Roach’s drums. How challenging is it? The middle section is the primal scream of these works; it’s hard to imagine Abbey did not harm her vocal chords conveying such rage. She is back to chant the names of African tribes in “All Africa”, which transitions into “Tears for Johannesburg”, and the close.

Conclusion: What a JAM!

About a century after passage of the 13th, 14th and 15th Amendments to the Constitution, it took real courage in addition to unmatched skill to record the works mentioned here. Such music (and much else like it) clearly made inroads. Thus the unforgivable Jim Crow era was interrupted by occasional, sporadic events encompassing or resembling progress, like Brown v. Board of Education, and passage of the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act.

I have marked anniversaries of the Supreme Court decision in Brown with presentations that use these and other musical triumphs. The presentation is called “With All Deliberate Speed”, which was how the Court directed that Brown be implemented in the 1955 follow-up case Brown II. Since there is still de facto segregation in many areas’ schools, despite some progress, we can see how that’s gone. It’s been deliberate, alright.

Yet, another half century has passed and we are relieved (!) that a murder committed in plain view, and recorded for all to see, actually results in a conviction. A political party loses the Presidency and the Senate, and concludes the lesson to be learned is not the need to earn back the voters’ trust and support, but the need to suppress votes.

We’ve been in a major “jam” of our own making for decades, indeed for centuries. It is the sheer, destructive insanity of racism.

Jazz Appreciation Month 2021 provided a perfect opportunity to reflect on all this. I kept coming back to perhaps my favorite song of all from this period, “Retribution “, from one of Abbey Lincoln’s two greatest albums as a leader, Straight Ahead. (The title track is almost as good, by the way: “Straight ahead, the road keeps winding…”)

Nothing replaces hearing it, of course – “Give me…NOTHING” – but Abbey’s “Retribution” lyrics perfectly capture the proper perspective:

Never was a child
Living life since I was ten
Heard every story told
Been everywhere but in
And I ain’t disillusioned
Always knew confusion’s story

Don’t want no silver spoon
Ain’t asking for the moon
Give me nothing
Don’t want no favors done
Just let the retribution
Match the contribution, baby

No street that’s paved with gold
Don’t need no hand to hold
Hand me nothing
Don’t want no sad song sung
Just let the retribution
Match the contribution, baby

Suggesting “It’s Time!” branded Max Roach a daring radical in 1962. In truth, it was ridiculously, appallingly past time even then – and that was 59 years ago.

For God’s sake.

Ken Bossong

© 2021 Kenneth J. Bossong

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McCoy Tyner, Philly’s Pianist Supreme

Others are doing a good job memorializing McCoy Tyner in widely-available tributes since his passing on Friday, March 6. See, for example, Ben Ratliff’s piece in the New York Times and Dan DeLuca’s in Saturday’s Philadelphia Inquirer. This, then, will not be a comprehensive retrospective of the great pianist’s life or work.

I would be remiss, however, to let the moment pass without expressing appreciation for one of the true masters, and a critical stylistic link between bebop and the avant-garde. Simply put, McCoy Tyner was one of the all-time greats. If you have never heard him, you owe it to yourself.

Among His Influences

Innovation is paramount in Jazz. There are special places of honor reserved for those who create a sound on their instruments that is new, vital, and unmistakably their own. Within a few notes of any recording, there is no doubt when the pianist is McCoy Tyner. He did not come from nowhere, however, and his obvious inspirations constitute a piano Hall of Fame.

Earl Hines is considered an early virtuoso of Jazz piano for his “orchestral” approach to the instrument. That is to say, Hines used unprecedented two-handed skill and facility to unleash all that the keyboard offers. It is no coincidence that Hines is the one pushing a young Louis Armstrong to new heights on some of the latter’s most important early recordings, like “Weather Bird” and the incomparable “West End Blues”.

The Harlem Stride pianists, like James P. Johnson, Willie “The Lion” Smith, and Fats Waller, were so named for the patterns of powerful chords they used to propel their music. Their left hand did the “striding” while belting out the chords that set the foundation for the right hand’s melodic improvisations .

The two high priests of bebop piano were Thelonious Monk and Bud Powell. From Monk, Tyner clearly gleaned the importance of space in music, and the rhythmic and percussive aspects of the instrument. Powell was his hero, though. The Powell influence is unmistakable in the grace, fluidity and melodic majesty of Tyner’s playing. McCoy added to these bop innovations the fullness of his expanded orchestral approach and the propulsive force of his amazing left hand. Thus, he became uniquely capable of creating thrilling tension and beauty.

As explained in an earlier post (“What Makes Jazz So Endearing and Enduring”, 3/4/19), tension and release is one of the most compelling techniques in the music. Tyner’s remarkable ability to build tension, even while creating melodically and harmonically, made him the perfect pianist for a quartet many consider the greatest ever.

The Quartet

John Coltrane made astounding music both before and after his “Classic Quartet”, but there has never been anything like that group – Tyner, Jimmy Garrison on bass, and Elvin Jones on drums. Jones described the group’s interaction as “telepathic”. It’s a good thing they were, too, given the passion, virtuosity, energy, and inventiveness with which they played.

Every Coltrane album on which McCoy plays is a genuine classic. I’ll just mention two. The first of them, My Favorite Things on Atlantic was, as mentioned in a prior post (“Missing The Trane”, 7/18/19), my first Coltrane record. One reason I listened to the title track every day for a year was how often I discovered an idea in Tyner’s solo that developed into something magical in Coltrane’s second turn on the soprano.

It is impossible to present A Love Supreme, as I’m doing in this 55th anniversary year of the iconic Impulse album’s release, without pointing out Tyner’s contributions.

The truth, though, is that you can pick any album from this group’s era in the early Sixties and just sit back in wonder at what is possible in improvised music. In the middle of it all is Tyner’s grounded but relentless attack setting the table for the bristling passion of everyone else’s playing. You can feel Coltrane gearing up for his next solo.

McCoy was the surviving member of The Quartet; his passing will make any presentation of A Love Supreme that much more poignant.

Post ‘Trane

As far as I can tell, there is no such thing as a bad McCoy Tyner recording. Whether leader or sideman, in whatever setting – solo, trio, small group with horns, big band – he guaranteed a level of excellence for the proceedings.

There are Tyner records that will be mentioned by all, like The Real McCoy on Blue Note. (Emails seeking further listening recommendations will be met with enthused reply, by the way.) For now, let’s just mention Time For Tyner, also on Blue Note. As exhilarating as it is beautiful, this is a wonderful example of the special chemistry Tyner had with the extraordinary vibraphonist, Bobby Hutcherson. Other excellent outings feature saxophonists like Gary Bartz, Sonny Fortune, and Azar Lawrence.

Seeing McCoy Tyner live was always a memorable treat, whether as a solo in San Francisco or with a group at the Berks County Jazz Festival. The latter was with a good friend who is a gifted musician in his own right. When the concert was over, we just sat there for a while, speechless. This can happen after experiencing one of the best who ever lived.

Final Note

I have never read or heard a bad word about McCoy Tyner, as a musician or as a person. He has influenced virtually every pianist who has followed him, many profoundly. They have chosen well in selecting a mentor.

The magnitude of such a loss is tempered somewhat by the opportunity (actually, the need) to celebrate the man. And, as always with truly great music, riches await the adventurous listener.

Ken Bossong

© 2020 Kenneth J. Bossong

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Missing the Trane

John William Coltrane died 52 years ago, on July 17, 1967. Thus, he is gone about 30% longer than the 40 years he lived. Yet, his stature and impact actually have grown in the half century since his passing. There has never been anyone like him.

It would take a college level course to explain fully why that is; for now, we’ll content ourselves with this post.

The biographical details are available elsewhere, so I’ll just mention the basics. Born on September 23, 1926 in Hamlet, NC, John was raised in High Point, NC. Both of his grandfathers were ministers of the African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church. The year 1940 was traumatic for a thirteen year old John, as he lost his father, maternal grandparents and an uncle within a few months of each other. Immediately upon graduating high school at 16, John followed his mother, who had moved to Philadelphia for better paying work. Happily, it was also a hotbed of music.

Unlike some Jazz stars, Coltrane was not a musical child prodigy. He was a quiet kid, a good student, and very enthused to take on a beaten-up clarinet in school. At 14, he tried an alto sax. Eventually, he was good enough to play in a Navy band, and later to attain gigs on tenor sax with Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson and Dizzy Gillespie (among others). He was no household name, though, when Miles Davis hired him for his quintet. The year was 1955; Coltrane had just turned 29.

Miles

If Miles heard something special in Coltrane, it probably had something to do with the musical journey Miles had experienced. He emerged as Charlie Parker’s second horn at the age of 19, after Dizzy Gillespie went his separate way. Where Bird and Diz had each been soaring, incendiary virtuosos, Bird and Miles created a classic fire and ice dynamic. Davis presumably saw in young Coltrane another perfect foil for his own understated passion. It certainly worked out that way.

Prestige and then Columbia

The new quintet with an unleashed Coltrane was a sensation based on a series of appearances and albums for the Prestige record label, including Cookin’, Relaxin’, Steamin’, and Workin’. These albums combined compelling versions of ballads, blues, standards, show tunes, and originals. A stellar rhythm section (Red Garland, piano, Paul Chambers, bass, Philly Joe Jones, drums) supported and pushed the horns to expressive heights. It wasn’t long before Coltrane was being mentioned with the first rank of tenors, like Dexter Gordon and the amazing Sonny Rollins.

If asked to name one recording to hear from the years with Miles, almost everyone would say Kind of Blue, understandably. It is probably the biggest selling true Jazz album ever, and with good reason. So, if you’ve never heard it, by all means do yourself the favor. There is an earlier gem not to miss.

When Prestige ran out of gerunds to use as titles for his albums, Miles left for Columbia, where his first record was the storied ‘Round About Midnight. The jewel of the set is Monk’s “‘Round Midnight”. While it is an outstanding quintet’s take on one of Monk’s great compositions, the show-stopper is Coltrane’s solo. His re-imagining of the tune is so strikingly original that people sometimes think of it as being the composition. At this point, it would be surprising to hear a version that does not reference the solo. To listen is to experience the thrilling convergence of virtuosity and creativity that Jazz improvisation can provide.

Monk

The year 1957 was momentous for Coltrane, for at least two reasons. First, he left Miles and the music to kick the heroin habit that afflicted so many musicians of the era. This he did cold turkey. While he was at it, Coltrane also left behind the alcohol he had tried to use as a substitute. Second, when he came back on the scene, John joined Thelonious Monk. Although Trane never stopped learning, the months with Monk seem especially important to his development.

All possibilities regarding space and time in music opened up to him. (The specifics, such as the use of large intervals, would take up another whole post.) The experience could be unsettling. Trane once remarked that there were moments on stage with Monk when he felt like he had “walked into an empty elevator shaft”. For a man with an insatiable appetite for new ideas, sounds and perspectives, though, this was the ultimate graduate school. Recordings of this band had been severely limited, but newly discovered material issued in the last few years, like At Carnegie Hall and Live at the Five Spot, has been superb.

Coltrane rejoined Miles in time to record classics like Milestones and Kind of Blue and to tour. However, a restless Coltrane was ready to lead and to take on a whole new level of innovation.

Taking the Lead: Giant Steps and Favorite Things

Prestige

Prestige got Coltrane into the studio as a session leader with Miles’ rhythm section when the impact he was having on musicians, critics and fans became apparent. The albums that ensued are great examples of what made “hard bop” hard. If you want to hear blues as only master Jazz musicians can do it, I particularly recommended a twelve-minute collaboration of Trane’s tenor with Red Garland’s piano called “By the Numbers” on the album The Last Trane .

Blue Note

Coltrane cut his only album as a leader for Blue Note in September of ‘57, but what an album Blue Train is! In control of the material (four out of the five tracks being his originals) and the musicians, John served notice that something special was unfolding. Then came John Coltrane’s extraordinary stint with Atlantic Records.

Atlantic

First up was the aptly named Giant Steps. Of the seven compositions, all Coltrane’s, six are absolute classics, likely to be covered to this day by top artists. The other, “Countdown”, is in some ways the most indicative of innovations to come. “Naima” is John’s most beloved ballad. The title track remains a piece used by young saxophonists to determine for themselves whether they have what it takes. You get the picture.

My first Coltrane album, and one of my first Jazz records, was My Favorite Things. This was dumb luck in a way; I bought it because I had heard Elvin Jones was a great drummer and drummers were my entre to Jazz. Mesmerized on first hearing, I quickly realized I was hearing something that would change my life. I listened to the title track after school every day for a year, and never failed to hear something new. My education as a listener accelerated. I didn’t yet understand that this piece would take the soprano sax from relative obscurity to prominence in one shot. I just knew that if music could be this intense and this beautiful at the same time, it was for me.

Another Atlantic disc, Ole, would probably not make many lists of Coltrane’s greatest. Yet, all he did on it was to (1) give another tour-de-force on the soprano; (2) first record with Eric Dolphy; (3) portray a culture, as he would later with “Africa”, “India”, “Brazilia”, and so forth; and (4) free the bass.

Wait, what was that last one? How did a saxophonist free the bass? Well, Coltrane hired two great bassists, adding Arthur Davis to Reggie Workman, and turned them loose on the title track. Neither is “walking” his bass, or even keeping time as such, for most of the 18 minute piece. Rather, they serve as horn-like voices; their improvised arco duet just before Trane’s second solo is astounding.

There’s more, of course, from the Atlantic years. Had this output been his last and had he never moved on to Impulse! Records, John Coltrane’s spot in any Jazz Hall of Fame would have been secured.

The Quartet

Impulse! Records’ Bob Thiele gave Coltrane unprecedented leeway in every aspect of producing his albums. Thank God. The result was a long string of astonishing triumphs.

At the core of the artistic and commercial success – at least until the last year and a half or so – was The Quartet. If Jazz fans speak simply of “The Quartet”, they are referring to Coltrane’s group with McCoy Tyner on piano, Jimmy Garrison on bass and Elvin Jones on drums. Each is among the greatest ever on his instrument, but it was as a group that they attained mythic status. Music of such intensity and difficulty required improvisation, musicianship and communication at the highest levels. Both Tyner and Jones have described their interaction as “telepathic”.

By now, the release of every Coltrane album was a major event, eagerly awaited not just by his fans, but by musicians. All wanted to know what would be next, and he never failed to deliver something new and exciting. In fact, following Trane could be bewildering. If asked now which Coltrane record first blew your mind, 50 fans would mention at least 20 different titles. Back when the records were coming out, people could barely absorb what they were hearing before the next one appeared. Then, to see him live was to experience something else entirely. In the time it took to get records in the stores, Coltrane had moved on yet again, even from a brand new album.

One other point about seeing Trane live: the intensity of the performances was legendary. Once the group took off on a piece, they pushed each other to ever greater levels without regard to performance length. Fans hoping to hear My Favorite Things may have gotten their wish, but it bore little resemblance to the Atlantic record. Trane was known to play it for 90 minutes or more, which would drive club owners expecting 60-minute sets crazy. Elvin Jones said there were nights when playing with John was a “near-death experience”. Those lucky enough to have been present and open to such levels of energy and inventiveness heard music they’ll never forget.

Spirituality

In the middle of the great Impulse! albums, between the beautiful Crescent and the compelling Quartet Plays, was A Love Supreme. As a record about which an entire book is written (Ashley Kahn, 2002) and about which I have given 90-minute presentations, this is not the sort of work that lends itself to a quick paragraph. For now, suffice it to say that overstating its impact is very difficult.

Imagine it’s early February of 1965. Like many, you are awaiting the next work of the most exciting, cutting-edge artist around. It turns out to be a nearly perfect four-movement suite, presenting (a) his concept of God and what matters in life and (b) a prayer. No belief system is required to find the music enthralling, but the album has changed many lives. For John, it was the manifestation of a spiritual reawakening that began with his detox in 1957 and would inform the rest of his life.

Beyond

The inexorable trend as Coltrane pushed through every limit to his music was toward the avant-garde (or Energy Music, Free Jazz, the New Thing, etc.). This ultimately led to the gradual demise of the Quartet. Shortly after Rashied Ali joined the group as a second drummer, Elvin left, and McCoy was replaced on piano by John’s wife, Alice Coltrane. Pharaoh Sanders joined the group, bringing his fiery intensity and use of the tenor sax’s upper register to complement the leader’s.

Coltrane may be the only artist who was an essential innovator in two different movements in Jazz. Early on, he took hard bop to its outermost limits with his so-called “sheets of sound”. Many would have been satisfied being the “baddest” tenor in the land, but Trane was just warming up. He took one step at a time freeing his music from unnecessary constraints. 

Trane was not the first avant-garde figure in Jazz (see Sun Ra, Cecil Taylor and Ornette Coleman) but ended up arguably its most significant player and proponent. While he did lose some fans and critics at this portion of his career, his meticulous, incremental approach and unmatched musicianship lent credence to Free Jazz as not only a legitimate artistic movement but actually the inevitable next step after bebop.

The second Coltrane record I bought (soon after MFT) was from this last period. Meditations was recorded on November 23, 1965 and released in 1966. It was the last album with The Quartet intact, but with Sanders and Ali added. The album starts at a level of intensity reached by very few recordings in any genre, and builds from there. I listened to it once, and set it aside for two years. That’s how long it took to listen to what had come before so as to be ready for Meditations. It was time well spent.

A Force for Good

Obviously, there is much to admire in the life of John Coltrane as a musician and as a man. Summarizing from this scratching of the surface:

  • Openness to people, their beliefs, and their ideas
  • Interest in nearly everything – religion, philosophy, mathematics, world culture, and all music – inevitably enriching his music
  • Refusal to settle or be satisfied, where there was more to achieve – including a legendary work ethic (e.g. practicing between sets) resulting in mind-boggling virtuosity
  • Artistic integrity and fearlessness, whether facing withering criticism or praise
  • Confidence with humility and not a hint of arrogance
  • Relentless exploration of sound
  • Creation of entirely new sounds and vocabularies on both the tenor and soprano saxophones, to the point where master saxophonists built their own iconic careers inspired by specific slivers of Coltrane’s canon
  • Innovations in music that we’re still in the process of fully grasping

Consider that Coltrane achieved all this and more in a public career lasting a mere 12 years. It is difficult to conceive what he might have accomplished but for the liver cancer that took him. His last studio album, Expression, especially the piece called “Offering”, portends a next giant step forward as profound as anything before. As it is, he remains a figure of towering impact and significance – and not just in Jazz. As a result, there is a wealth of material to read and music to hear, including an excellent documentary, Chasing Trane (John Scheinfeld, 2017), loaded with commentary of remarkable insight.

In one of his last interviews, with Frank Kofsky in November of 1966, Coltrane said, “I want to be a force for real good…in other words, I know that there are bad forces. I know that there are forces out here that bring suffering to others, and misery to the world…But I want to be the opposite force, I want to be the force which is truly for good.”

Ken Bossong

© 2019 Kenneth J. Bossong