A Love Supreme

1.  John Coltrane is a sort of wave, shifting and churning but not the sort of wave that breaks on shore.  Coltrane is a surge; tidal, gravitational, and seismic.  An all-consuming disruption of the stillness.

2.  My first exposure to jazz was through my mother.  She never really listened to jazz, but, when my guitar teacher told me that perhaps I should, she happily assisted.  She worked at the public library in town and started bringing albums home.  The first three that I remember were Take Five, Stan Getz: Greatest Hits, and A Love Supreme.  The first two I absorbed readily but for A Love Supreme, I was not remotely prepared.

3.  I've called John Coltrane by a number of metaphors but I always come back to water – waterfall or ocean.  Never a river.  I think it's less about the water itself and more about the gravity.  The irrepressible pull downward; the way it hurls itself into obstacles, adapts, bounds over, or grinds into dust; the heaving lunar ebb and swell.

4.  I really love old Coltrane too – Blue Train or Giant Steps – but it's not the same as "The Great Quartet."  Coltrane evolves, of course, but the rhythm section is the thing that I think I'm drawn to.  Maybe not McCoy Tyner, Elvin Jones, and Jimmy Garrison, but the totality; what they bring out of Coltrane.  A boundless quality.

5.  "Pursuance" is a trance.  Symmetry and oddity; strident rigid beams of sound and wavering breath; interminable cascades of polyrhythm and figures hobbled at the joint; chains of wind and sharp bursts; the thunder of falling water; the sea inhaling with rain.  A repetitive rhythmic cleansing of the senses.

6.  An ocean is something into which one can disappear.