Coltrane, Miles, Wayne, and that Modern Sound - Part 3 - Coltrane

The enduring legacy of John Coltrane, Miles Davis, and Wayne Shorter is undisputed in the jazz world. Each contributed greatly to the revolution in jazz in the 1960's, forming, defining, and expanding what is widely regarded as the height of jazz music. In this third of a 3-part series of blog posts, I will explore each in turn.

John Coltrane is the greatest tenor saxophone player to have ever lived. A remarkably fine musician in both of his two highly contrasting periods (early and late, naturally), Coltrane's legacy endures. 

Starting in 1962, Coltrane and his quartet pushed the limits of jazz. Like the music of Miles and Shoter, Coltrane's music often consisted of simple one-chord vamps that opened up the harmonic framework for the performer. (Check out The Inchworm).

The revolutionary aspect of Coltrane was not, however, the type of jazz he played, which, as I discussed in the two pervious posts, Miles and Wayne were also playing. It's because he pushed the boundaries of the possible, acceptable, and purposeful in jazz that he is so recognized here on this blog--because he showed, in a way, that jazz could communicate the spiritual and powerful.

Coltrane's music is not the normal chill-in-the-club-drink-my-cocktail jazz. It is fiery. It is emotive, explosive. His band is spectacular. Elvin Jones, drummer for the quartet, is known for his polyrythmic flourishes of sound. Mccoy Tyner, who played piano, played with commendable force and determination, expertly pushing and pulling the harmony around.

But it is Coltrane himself that makes the band, naturally. The man puts himself into each note. He blows his soul right in the mouthpiece and shoots it straight to the stars. And this makes him non-casual. When he plays something, he plays it fully. His inspiration flows fluidly from this mind to the instrument, he never stumbles, plays just as beautifully at any tempo. 

And in doing all of this so well, he changes what might otherwise sound like boring, repetitive one-chord jams into explorations (The Inch Worm) meditations (My Favorite Things) or spiritual trips (A Love Supreme, Part II: Resolution). And that's just it, really. He takes these, what are essentially "jams," and pushes them to the next level. Their "jammy"ness allows them to be free, open, and spontaneous. 

Here, in Coltrane (and no doubt in countless others, I don't mean to say Coltrane has a monopoly), we have the essence of improvisational live music performance. Interaction, interplay, development, all in a seemingly choreographed symphony of sound.

And he just sounds so good to listen to. Maybe that's it, really. It's impossible to quite put a finger on what it is about the music of John Coltrane that is so compelling, but it sure as hell is compelling.