I decided to split the Impulse! years for two reasons: because post-Love Supreme Coltrane feels radically different than anything he’d cut before, and because Trane became so prolific in his later years that it seemed the only way to keep each individual entry a readable length. So yes, watch this space for round three.
Africa/Brass. Impulse! Records; recorded May 1961, released September 1961. Another big turning point, and another plunge into the big weird. True to the title, Trane gathered up a walloping horn section, including trumpet, trombone, tuba, four French horns, and Dolph on the usual suite of woodwinds, and a bari sax in the background. Brass only sporadically fell into Coltrane’s tonal purview, let alone this much of it; maybe that’s why it took me several listens to pick up on what this record is doing. Because now I find the enormous horn section an enhancement to Trane’s expressionism. Dig the flare and fire on “Africa,” where those dudes add shades of the church and the symphony. It and “Blues Minor” are Trane originals, and they show his tonal range; the former explodes while the latter cools out. Sandwiched between them is Tyner’s reinterpretation of “Greensleeves,” which features some right pretty piano and a horn chart that’s, get this, catchy.
The Complete 1961 Village Vanguard Recordings. Impulse! Records; recorded November 1961, released September 1967. I still think Supreme is Coltrane’s peak as a composer, bandleader and conceptualist, but I reach for these tapes when I want to hear Trane do goddamn everything with the saxophone. To whit: he dips into Arabic and Indian modalities on, well, “India,” he wails a whole new blues on “Chasin’ the Trane” (I think Hendrix shouted out to this one in an interview, but I can’t find the source), he shows up to rouse the good audience on “Spiritual,” he lends “Naima” that signature delicacy, and I’m certain Wayne Shorter picked up a little mojo from “Miles’ Mode.” It sure helps that he’s got Dolphy, one of his most sympathetic collaborators ever; the sheer power the two whip up on “Brasilia” is a wonder to behold, and his bass clarinet line on “Spiritual” gives the tune a lot of depth. And the whole band’s on board; Tyner’s unforgettable on “Morning Sunrise,” side player Garvin Bushnell adds a mesmeric English horn solo to the November 5th performance of “India,” and is that Jimmy Garrison’s name in the credits? The band’s all here! It took a decade of Coltrane superfandom before I finally sat down with the whole big bastard, but it’s since displaced the original three-track LP (“Chasin’,” “Spiritual,” and “Softly”) in my rotation; my favorite move is to throw it on shuffle. Dismissed as “anti-jazz” by the critics of the day, but what do they know? I mean, writing about music? What a buncha dweebs. (tugs collar nervously)
Impressions. Impulse! Records; recorded variously 1961 - 1963, released July 1963. I feel like I’m cheating a little here because this album is such a mishmash; the title track (a reharmonized “So What,” and yes, I love the swagger) and “India” came from his Village Vanguard stint, “Up ‘Gainst the Wall” hails from a September 1962 session, and “After the Rain” came from April 1963. But since neither of the Village tracks made the old LP, this was all new material anyway. The title track spotlights the Trane-Dolph thing one last time, the two making a playground of jazz’s stateliest bassline. Between his work with Trane and his inimitable Out to Lunch, Dolphy has his place in my pantheon, and the dude still feels unsung. If you know, you know. Meanwhile, “After the Rain” is another stellar entry in the list of Trane’s ballads, with Jones’ shimmering cymbal treatment providing a powerful emotional grounding. And “Up ‘Gainst the Wall” swings like nothing else in the dude’s catalog.
Live At Birdland. Impulse! Records; recorded March, October, and November 1963, released January 1964. Well, mostly live at Birdland; it’s another of these studio-concert hybrids, and once again it makes up for its relative lack of cohesion with extraordinarily high-quality material. The record’s standout is the pensive prayer “Alabama,” believed by many to be a tribute to the victims of a church bombing by a buncha chuds appalled by the concept of civil rights. It makes a guy ashamed to be American sometimes. Meanwhile, the live stuff kicks many an ass; stage favorite “Afro-Blue” (never attempted in the studio) comes off with the proper fire, while Trane takes the idea of “saxophone solo” to its most literal extreme on “I Want to Talk About You,” to terrific results. Betcha anything Anthony Braxton was taking notes.
Crescent. Impulse! Records; recorded April and June 1964, released July 1964. I don’t always get it right on my first listen, or even necessarily my fifth. Case in point: it took me ten years of on-and-off listening before I realized that this disc ranks among Coltrane’s top-shelf material. That’s because it’s a subtle one, more keyed towards impressionistic soundscapes than either the tight, dynamic compositions of the Atlantic albums or the tonally adventurous suites that dominate his later career. Indeed, his play with configuration foreshadows later work; the Elvin Jones plus subtle accompaniment arrangement on “The Drum Thing” looks forward to Interstellar Space, while Jimmy Garrison’s showpiece “Lonnie’s Lament” might remind you of A Love Supreme. But it’s the first side that really gets me right down there; the keening sax/piano motifs drive the serene title track, while Trane brings a certain tempered heat to his solo on “Wise One.”
A Love Supreme. Impulse! Records; recorded December 1964, released January 1965. I once considered this my favorite album before my brain realized what my heart already knew: “A Love Supreme” is a weird way of saying “Songs in the Key of Life.” Still, it can’t possibly be any lower than three (also gotta have Abbey Road up there, don’t ya know), and it helped me pivot from the jazz, soul, and rock I grew up on to the exploratory forms I grew interested in through my teens and, especially, twenties. The flow between tracks is terrific, with unforgettable solos often bridging tracks - frenetic work from Jones gets you from “Resolution” to “Pursuance,” while Garrison’s bass makes a fine palette cleanser from there to the closing “Psalm.” Garrison also carries that unforgettable “Acknowledgment” groove, which later forms the bedrock for that unforgettable chanting. I’m still not fully sure how I feel about avant-garde music or deep theory; my thought on music is you either feel it or you don’t. And I feel Garrison’s heavy grooves, the spiraling piano solos Tyner peppers the record with, Jones’ ever-undulating rhythms, and especially the way Trane blurs the lines between melodies, solos, and purest expressionism. His closing solo on “Psalm,” which seeks to lend musical accompaniment to a poem from the original liner notes, serves at once as an astonishing demonstration of the man’s nuanced spirituality (boy, can I relate) and yet another form-pushing marvel. He’d only go further from there.