Astral Traveling

from the LP Thembi, Impulse! Records, 1971



I have no way of knowing for sure, but if pressed, I would bet the farm that Pharoah Sanders dropped acid with John Coltrane---let’s look at the facts: Trane started taking LSD in 1965, around the same time that he asked Sanders to join his crew fulltime (after the recording of Ascension), then along with Sun Ra, Lonnie Liston Smith and Trane’s widow Alice, Mr. Sanders went on to give birth to the cosmic jazz movement (see: out there shit), laying the foundation for what some call “acid jazz”, this song being a textbook example of that approach. The whole affair almost feels as if it was recorded underneath the sea, with currents of electric keys, basslines & random percussion swirling about, Pharoah’s tenor sax fluttering around all of it like sunlight dancing off of the waves; whether this was influenced by a lysergic dream or not, the windswept result is never short of trippy.

Salt Peanuts

from the LP Jazz at Massey Hall, Debut Records, 1953



These cats were SO high yo… Jazz, to my knowledge, was the first genre of modern music to be inextricably linked with cannabis use, and there’s little doubt as to the immense influence weed had over the nature of the music---not regarding the talent of the players mind you, but more in the unpredictable directions that said chemical influence led them. This concert at Toronto’s Massey Hall is legendary for a reason, just look at the cast of famous characters: Dizzy Gillespie (horn), Charlie ‘Bird’ Parker (sax), Bud Powell (keys), Charlie Mingus (bass), & Max Roach (drums). There may have never been a greater assortment of talent during the bop era than what you hear on this record; that’s not to say that it’s the best singular performance by each one of the players, but to have witnessed such a session would have been about as good as it got back then---and that’s pretty damn good! More research should be done exploring the relationship that cannabis has with creativity, specifically pertaining to the musical experience, because its impact shouldn’t be underestimated.

Space is the Place

from the LP Space is the Place, Blue Thumb Records, 1972



Sun Ra and his far out Arkestra remain (and likely will always remain) a wholly unique phenomenon inside the world of jazz music, and for most intensive purposes, outside of jazz as well, having no contemporaries for many years in either philosophy or sound. Sonny, as he sometimes called himself, was born in Alabama in 1914, suffering through the realities of the American South and finding himself to be magnetically drawn to the piano. Through his career he often spoke of the moment his life changed, being teleported to the planet of Saturn one day in the late ‘30s while he was contemplating existence in his room, being filled with the light of the universe, and being told that Earth was heading for some terrible times, which he could help diminish by spreading an interplanetary musical message of peace & understanding. Can you fucking dig it, man?! I want some of what he was smoking that day… It might just have been a bunch of mumbo jumbo except for the fact that Sun Ra was a prodigious talent, both musically and poetically, becoming something of a jazz philosopher over the years. Most consider this work to be his magnum opus, a sprawling piece of avant-garde electronic jazz wrapped around a steady column of modal (somewhat traditional) cadence, lifting the listener into that ether where he & his Arkestra made their home; considering the cosmological fact that we are all, indeed, essentially the remnants of star dust, and certain laws of quantum physics would make possible a psychic (and perhaps even physiological) journey to Saturn, maybe homeboy was on to something. Space is the place. Word.

Windjammer

from the LP Live at the Lighthouse, Blue Note Records, 1972



A common jam amongst progressive jazz heads back in the early ‘70s, this version of “Windjammer” smokes harder than anything else out there, turbulent and frenzied like whitecaps on the ocean before a storm, coaxed along by the euphoric whistles, hoots & hollers from a lively (re: drunk) crowd in Hermosa Beach, CA; thanks to the stellar recording, they were even able to clearly capture a lone jazznik yelling, “go! go! go!” through much of this hurricane of a groove, as if he were standing right across the stage from you. Grant Green’s jazz guitar licks were second to none, but he never monopolized on his bandleader status, always giving all the players (who, in this case, were relative unknowns: Greg Williams on drums, Shelton Laster on organ, and Claude Bartee handling all sax duties) ample opportunity to show off their chops---the successful pursuit of a deep groove, dig?

Destiny's Children

from the LP Keep Your Soul Together, CTI Records, 1973



So what’s the deal with jazz purists anyways…I mean, do they wake up on the wrong side of the bed every single day, or what man?! By the time of this phenomenal release, they had essentially turned their backs on virtually every single jazz musician who dared to step outside their meticulously constructed boundaries for what “jazz” was “supposed to be”---really?! I mean, what kind of douchebag walks up to an artist and says, “not only don’t we like what you’re doing, but we will rail against it and you personally in hopes that you will obey us, the critics, your masters…”?!? That’s some crazy bullshit man, so no wonder after Bitches Brew led the way everybody else jumped ship and began experimenting as well; for me, other than Miles himself, there is no better trumpeter than Freddie Hubbard, and this LP finds him well into his post-pure-bob period. This track struts along pretty damn good, thanks in no small part to the funky bass-playing of Ron Carter and the loose keys of George Cables, but it’s Hubbard’s inspired blowing that makes this inimitable; to be honest, when comparing their work in the ‘70s anyways, Hubbard perhaps put in more effort and churned out more creativity on a song-to-song basis than the master Davis himself…

I'll Get By

from the CD The Quintessential Billie Holiday Vol. 4, Columbia Records, released: 1991, recorded: 1937



I could listen to Billie Holliday every single day for the rest of my life and never grow tired of hearing the sound of that voice---delicate yet assertive, both bluesy & jazzy at the same time, vulnerable and humbled beyond the realm of most people’s realities. Although surely meant as a standard love song by writers Ahlert & Turk, this song could just as well have been Ms. Holiday’s own personal ode to heroin, “…oh there'll be rain, and darkness too, I'll not complain, I'll live with you…poverty may come to me, that's true, but what care I, I’ll get by, as long as I have you…”; after all, she did infamously get arrested in the hospital, having heroin delivered to her as she lay dying from liver failure…fucking pigs. Having been raped as a young girl, then later getting into prostitution, drug & alcohol addiction, and several abusive relationships, Billie Holiday’s story didn’t begin on a happy note or end on one either---that’s always sort of transfixed me, how one tortured woman could bring so much joy to the world, even decades after her death. I hope she understood that before she passed, that her voice will serve as infinite salve to all who have hearts and minds.

Joe Cool

from the LP Lost Cues from the Charlie Brown TV Specials, released: 2007, recorded: 1976




I grew up watching the Peanuts crew at every holiday and Snoopy was my unabashed favorite; for real, all those characters were spot on. This was Snoopy’s soundtrack when he was moonlighting as Joe Cool, as heard in the school election TV special.

In a Sentimental Mood

from the LP Duke Ellington & John Coltrane, Impulse! Records, 1962



I’ll be the first to admit that, in the hands of some individuals, the saxophone more than many of its brass peers can be punishment for one’s ears, as the novice player often feels the need to overpower the instrument rather than channel it’s groove; on this ultra-smooth session, both written by and accompanied on the piano with jazz icon Duke Ellington, John Coltrane exhibits the proper way to handle one’s sax---it’s as if he’s simply blowing sweet nothings in your ear. I don’t know enough about the nuances of jazz music to opine on the backing players (it was ‘Trane’s quintet, and many critics would have rather seen him sitting in with the Duke’s orchestra), but to these ears it all goes down as nice as dessert wine! Two jazz legends and noted heads (the Duke was known to love all things marijuana, as was ‘Trane, who also went on to experiment with LSD before his death) in one room, what more can you ask for?!

I Loves You, Porgy

from the LP Nina Simone & her Friends, Bethlehem Records, 1959

The sound of Nina Simone’s voice gives me those transcendent goosebumps that focus mainly on the back of the scalp, but then ripple down your neck & spine, spreading out at your waist, and fixing your body in a still breath of wonderment and awe; certain timbres and tones just do that to me, like Bob Ross, the uber-mellow painting guy that used to be on PBS with the big whitey-‘fro---that dude’s voice & show was like a barbiturate, and I mean that in the best possible way. Nina’s long and revered career as a jazz singer needs no introduction, though I must admit that I’ve only become a big fan recently, as I enter into the jazz world from the spacey, polar opposite direction of the standards that Nina conquered. Accompanied by only her piano and one barely-brushed hi-hat, she gently claims this Gershwin standard as her own, for all time; the adjectives commonly used to describe Nina’s voice (smoky, thick, fluid, earthy, organic) never fully do justice to how truly distinctive and inimitable it was. Known for being temperamental with both concert promoters & her audiences, her ‘take-no-shit’ attitude kept Nina from ever really becoming a pop icon; nonetheless, she built a massive and dedicated following in the years when she was most actively performing (the late‘50s to early‘70s). Inflecting her style with bits of soul, gospel, and blues influences, her songs defy specific categorization; she was also extremely active in the civil rights movement, which was reflected more and more in her work as the 1960s moved along. Though this single was her only track to ever reach the Billboard Top 40, her catalogue will forever remain one of the most highly thought of in the annals of jazz. Nina manages to sound so desperate and in-want here, but delivered it in such a velvety and mellifluous way, that it doesn’t come of like begging as such---more like someone who is resigned to their fate, but still retains glimmers of hope for a better way; “…if you can keep me, I wants to stay here, with you forever, and I’ll be glad…but when he comes I know I’ll have to go…” Relaxed and refined, when you really need to chill out, Nina gets the job done!

Miles Runs the Voodoo Down

from the LP Bitches Brew, CBS Records, 1969



There are musicians who master the current style, and then there are musicians who create & define the very trends which others copy, remake, and react to. Miles Davis is among the minority of individuals making up the latter group, and this album marked a profound new direction for jazz music; yes, I know, if you’re a jazz purist you are already getting huffy about this choice and the previous statement, probably thinking to yourself, “…fusion is not jazz music…” Thing is, I’m not a “purist” of anything---that paradigm kinda smacks of the same overzealous dogma that annoys me about organized religion: too many rules made up by archaic assemblies. In any event, Miles certainly had both the reputation and musical chops to do his own thing; hell, by this date he’d already been performing jazz music in all its many styles and trends for well over 2 decades. As the ‘60s wore on, Miles and his assembled crews were straying farther and farther away from the old bop template, but this record divulged his then-current interest in rock and funk music like no jazz recording he had made before it. Recorded on August 20^th, 1969, this particular track keeps a heavy, earthy skronk rumbling underneath the entire session while Miles and the band take turns trading solos, a heady exchange between trumpet, electric pianos, and electric guitar that feels very much like the melodic embodiment of some voodoo spell. Virtually every single band member that played on this session went on to form their own successful fusion bands into the next decade: Chick Corea (Return to Forever), Joe Zawinul & Wayne Shorter (Weather Report), John McLaughlin (Mahavishnu Orchestra), Jack DeJohnette. Their interplay here is just incredible, riding waves of energy, losing restraint in unison. The jazz world was very split over this new direction, and remains so (albeit, to a lesser extent) to this day. However you may feel about that, there is no denying one thing: these are the sounds of a new zeitgeist in music being born.