By Max Babi
The Dazzling Brilliance Of John Coltrane
My journey into jazz has brought me to many strange and exotic stops indeed. For the sake holding a particular short stop under a fixed limelight, I guess I would like to dwell on some brilliant jazzmen for a change.
My first halt would be with John Coltrane, whom I somehow didnÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂt really rate as a giant of jazz, a mindbendingly bluesy improviser, an intellectual colossal when I was developing my taste in jazz during the early ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ60s. Perhaps there were too many new distractions like the innovators in the league of Eric Dolphy, Ornette Coleman, Bill Evans and Miles Davis. Over the years, I have read about him, heard him with increasing clarity and insight too ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂand now finally, I am once again delving deep into his body of work. With a new insight, as it were, fore there is no denying that even the fundamental difference between ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂhearingÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ and ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂlisteningÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ become apparent only after sustained listenign for many yearsÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ
To my utter amazement, like a masterpiece only half appreciated during the hormone-ruined adolescence, which seems devastatingly effective once you are over the hill, most of Coltrane's work now sounds almost magically gifted and frighteningly original to my ears. Like Miles Davis, he belongs to a school of music all his own, having carved a special niche for himself.
That should not come as a surprise nor an earth-shaking revelation to anyone I am sure, but the point I am making, and this occurred to me ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂwhilst listening to ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂBlues To ElvinÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ from the Atlantic masterpiece ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂColtrane Plays The BluesÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ. This five-star record wasnÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂt with me till I borrowed it very recently from my good friend and jazz freak Sujit Patwardhan who lives life on a different plane altogether. HeÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs an active environmentalist, you see. Blessed with an x-ray vision, I guess, discerning rather ominous and startling patterns in the everyday chaos we call life. If his words were stars, half an hour would be needed to populate a whole galaxy, I have no doubt. But he lords over a decent collection, almost an 'ideal' collection of jazz masterpieces fetched from around the globe.
ColtraneÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs playing has an overt bluesy feel to it, a simplistic but heart-rending quality in the manner in which he wheedles out the perfect notes from the alto or the soprano, both instruments turn in his hands into veritable singers of the celestial sort. Sujit likes telling me often there is a spiritual quality to ColtraneÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs playing, and there can be no denying, for the jazzman had delved into various intellectual and spiritual quests during his rather short-lived stay on this planet. This is an elaborate topic of course, and we might take a dig at it later on too.
One of his close associates and almost a devotee, Bill Evans the pianist par excellance, has mentioned in the liner notes for a reissue of the jazz landmark ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ Kind Of BlueÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ by Miles Davis that John Coltrane used to practise for six hours, record for an equal amount of time and in-between, and then sneak off to practise on his own. This I think, is the hallmark of the genius that comes along once in a century or less oftenÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ
something beyond obsession, infatuation, something startlingly original, something bordering on insanity ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂwhen the musician excludes virtually everything from music, and returns to it like a drug addict returning for his fix. A musician completely in love with music, a musician who was marked to go far ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂand he did. By Jove, how he did!
He rose above us mere mortals to a greatness and a height that makes words become fluffy balls devoid of a core. To appreciate, relish and absorb ColtraneÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs potent music, one has to listen to him play, excluding all external stimuli ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂas I am doing right now, well past midnight, secure in my knowledge that there will be no distraction, just the honeyed flow of unbroken music supreme. Some brilliant jazzmen like Anthony Braxton have never really trusted language, and one begins to understand that quandary when one realizes the short-comings of language when faced with the near-impossible task of describing what feelings ColtraneÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs helpless, driving impatience underlying his improvisations, his peculiar sax ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂvoicingÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ and amazingly masterful phrasing, generate within you.
ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂBlues To ElvinÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ in the album ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂColtrane Plays The BluesÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ has been recorded three times ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂand on the face of it, this fact could make the staunchest of jazz-fans squirm uneasily in the seat. With any other less prolific and inventive musician, that could lead to a mild disaster, but not with good old TraneÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ
with him, each rendition seems as fresh as morning dew in the hills. He seems to treating each opportunity to say something new with his horn. So much so that it makes me wonder why didnÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂt the producers go for a whole album composed of nothing but alternate Take 1, Take 2 up to may Take 10 for Blues To ElvinÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ
that could have given us more opportunities to peer into the wonderful microcosms in ColtraneÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs innermost mental chambers.
Regarding the spiritual aspects of his playing, well some of his older recordings also give off this unmistakable whiff of spirituality... Tunes like Naima for instance, seem intellectually far advanced than the jazz ditties and standards we are more accustomed to hear from the jazz giants to keep the audiences in good humor. There is a particular elevated plane in improvisation, wherein the performer and the listener cease to be so ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂand the former seems to be turning inwards, driven impatiently by forces that lie beyond the ambit of words, and the latter seems to detach himself or herself from the mundane avalanches of everyday quandaries one must face and not allow oneself to be edged off the ratrace we call life, altogetherÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ
Another eye-catching [ear-catching?] fact that jumps up on listening to the album Coltrane Plays The Blues [highly recommended to any newbie in search of developing a good taste in jazz] is the rather idiosyncratic titles : Blues To Elvin, Blues To Bechet, even Blues To YouÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ
the superficial impression one would gather may be that the artist is trying to perform entirely different tunes with similar sounding titles. Strangely, the whole side one with all six tunes seem to be one whole tune in a collective sense. As if these were different movements in a single masterpiece. It also gives the sensitive ear an impression that Coltrane must have improvised upon one central theme, and broken these up into six parts and then dedicated them at random to his favourite musicians, associates and whoeverÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ
I am just guessing, and perhaps more knowledgeable readers or jazz fans could enlighten me as to the facts underlying the development of this remarkable album with a discernable central theme to it.
Well then, lets round it off by saying that John Coltrane, may his soul rest in peace, can act as a virtual ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂportalÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ to enter the World of Jazz ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂand one can discover a whole new world of many other similar musicians who were either influenced by him, or owed to him that particular course of development they pursued with him, or listened to him deeply enough to let his style seep into their own style of playing. That list of musicians can be very long, including the incomparable genius, Miles Davis too ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂfor some of the most brilliant jazz came from his small groups wherein Coltrane was one of the mainstays. A true Jazz Giant by any standards, Coltrane towers above the rest.
