A Find Supreme
JOHN COLTRANE
Blue World
Impulse!
Our brave new digital world has laid waste to the market for physical music media, but a few niche categories are still viable. One is historical jazz packages. Consider, for example, four albums of previously unreleased John Coltrane material. Thelonious Monk with John Coltrane at Carnegie Hall (Blue Note, 2005), One Down, One Up (Impulse!, 2005), Offering (Impulse!/Resonance, 2015), and Both Directions at Once (Impulse!, 2018) were all huge sellers. They owned the “Historical” categories of the major jazz polls in their respective years.
Now there is another, Blue World. The backstory: In 1964, Coltrane (surprisingly) agreed to provide music for a Canadian film by Gilles Groulx, Le Chat dans le Sac. On June 24 of that year, he went into Van Gelder Studios with McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Garrison, and Elvin Jones and recorded eight takes of five tunes. Groulx used only 10 minutes of Coltrane’s music in his film, which quickly faded into cinematic obscurity.
Because of its short length and small track list, Blue World may not dominate the polls in 2019. But it is an absolutely stunning thing to hear now (in vivid Rudy Van Gelder sound). The opening commanding call of “Naima” stops you cold. Only one tenor saxophonist ever played a slow love ballad so hard. And it is a brand-new Coltrane record. Half a century collapses. You are in the moment with Coltrane’s burning fervor.
Blue World was recorded between the studio albums Crescent and A Love Supreme, a transitional period when Coltrane was moving from the order of harmonic complication to spiritual quest, which risks tumult. Songs from early in his career like “Traneing In” and “Like Sonny” observe the order but constantly threaten the tumult. The two takes of “Naima” are epic. The four members of the greatest small jazz ensemble of all time spill their guts. It is only 37 minutes long. Only fools will complain. THOMAS CONRAD
TAYLOR HO BYNUM 9-TETTE
The Ambiguity Manifesto
Firehouse 12
Taylor Ho Bynum’s 2013 release Navigation consisted of four different versions of the album-length title composition. So it should come as no surprise that The Ambiguity Manifesto features three compositions that each receive two different examinations by the cornetist’s 9-tette, along with one additional piece. Of course, this is not a case of master and alternate takes. The group refracts the original guidelines that Bynum, a longtime Anthony Braxton associate, has composed, coming up with something vastly different each time.
A surprise does come, however, with “Neither When Nor Where,” which opens the album with a groove that feels a lot like “Miles Runs the Voodoo Down.” Bass guitarist Stomu Takeishi and guitarist track, this one includes a bridge and a fully developed melody. “Enter (G) Neither,” its counterpart, lasts three times longer, referencing the melody only after 13 minutes of free flight. As on most of this album, the two brass, two saxophones, and strings never clutter up the sound, maintaining direction even if a tempo doesn’t exist. This focus works especially well in “(G)host(aa/ab),” a 17-minute suite track that pairs different players off in free improvisations; the climax arrives when Bynum and alto saxophonist Jim Hobbs play an elliptical melody that comes off like a mutated canon, ending in a slow fade.
