177-185. Music for St. Valentine's Day?

173. John Coltrane / Coltrane For Lovers (2001)
As long as you don't accidentally mix this up with Stellar Regions, it's ready-made for a date. A posthumous release on the Impulse! label, Coltrane For Lovers showcases Trane's work with the ballad. Included are tracks with Johnny Hartman (like "My One and Only Love") and Duke Ellington ("In a Sentimental Mood"), as well as the superb "After the Rain." This set would be even better if it included things from the Prestige catalog like "I Want to Talk About You" or "Lush Life" -- a homebrew playlist solves that, or just purchase The Gentle Side of John Coltrane, also on Impulse! The album serves with distinction as the one I see for sale most often at the mall.

 
174. Derek & the Dominoes / Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs (1970)
The tortured "Layla" has become iconic of blues rock and a radio staple, but its arresting power, continued through the rest of the epic set recorded in Miami, Florida, reaches every high and low possible in a romantic relationship -- loving, leaving, missing, cooing, trash talkin'... whether "I Am Yours" or you've got the "Keys to the Highway," it's all in there. Duane Allman is on hand (and on bottleneck) to press the point.

175. Al Green / Let's Stay Together (1972)
The ultimate R&B record. The songs are concise and earnest. Green's velvety delivery and rich emotional timbres drip from these soulful grooves, easily the best record that Green made with producer Willie Mitchell. It's sexy, it's strong, it's beautiful. It's Al Green.

176. Otis Redding / The Ultimate Otis Redding (1986)
Classic tracks, sufficiently casual but with intimacy compelled by Redding's yearning vocal. This easy to find compilation contains some of my favorites like the wrenching "That's How Strong My Love Is," "Pain in My Heart," as well as "Try a Little Tenderness." If you can't warm up to Otis, you must have no heart at all.

177. Frank Zappa / Cruising with Ruben & the Jets (1968)
Hunh? Love comes in many forms. Zappa's Ruben allows you to get your "Cheap Thrills" on the backseat, or maybe opine how wronged you were when snookums threw your best shark skin suit out on the lawn. Humor aside, you have the unmistakable nice-guy touch of "Sweet Baby Ray" Collins. And one starts to get the impression that this is really Zappa's love letter to the malt shop pop music that he loved.

178. Marvin Gaye / Let's Get It On (1973)
No introduction required..

179. Duke Ellington / Indigos (1958)
1958, the Ellington band runs through some popular blues like "Solitude," "Where or When" and "Autumn Leaves." Surprisingly, there are more covers than originals. Low and slow is the tempo, leading some overeager critics to condemn it as a snoozer. My take? Such listeners obviously missed the point. Indigos is probably as close as Duke and Company ever got to a record of slow jams. But they steer wide of the saccharine, the commercial, the banal, or outright schmaltz. Something about these stately renderings continues to captivate me.

180. John Scofield / A Moment's Peace (2011)
No space jazz here. Scofield is a remarkably fluent guitarist, capable of reaching the outer fringes of musicality in jams that recall the Grateful Dead in 1970 more than the jazz clubs of New York. Here he attempts, and succeeds in crafting a sleek and modern ballads-only set that are specifically not easy listening. The band really plays, as Sco describes, which makes all the difference. There are five fine originals, but check out the blissful cover of Carla Bley's "Lawns," or the Lennon-McCartney favorite "I Will."

 
181. Terence Blanchard / Wandering Moon (2000)
I've already described Wandering Moon in this blog, so I won't add too much to it here, except that it strikes me as one of the most effectively melancholy jazz dates I have ever listened to. Talk about deep and blue. Grooves by Dave Holland, a tribute written for Sweets Edison, and more than enough minor key lamenting for a whole bus of heartsick musicians, the music herein also retains a confidence brought by superior musicianship.
 

168. Miles Davis / Kind of Blue (1959)

A review of Kind of Blue seems pointless. I'll muse for a few hundred words, and then quit. I imagine a world without this record, and that is a difficult world. It's a world where Bill Evans didn't sub for Wynton Kelly, a world in which countless musicians were struck by inspiration elsewhere. A world that is one milestone short of properly demarcating the future. A world where your brain is not irresistibly and without permission drawn to referencing all subsequent Miles Davis dates to this one. It's a world without the myth of it all being done in one take, a world where you don't have to buy that other CD to find out that what you missed was not really anything special. In this world, 1959 is not terribly different than 1958 or 1960. The Columbia vault is one cart of tapes lighter. It's a party that went one album different. It's the late night DJ who selects something by Cliff Brown instead. It's a world where the porter didn't see the CD on my passenger seat. It's a world where as a teenager, I didn't once stop my bicycle in the middle of an intersection to change the batteries of my headset. It's a world where my daughter was lulled into dreamland by someone else's trumpet, and awakened by someone who was not John Coltrane. It's a lot the same, but it's not the same, and I'd rather have it with Kind of Blue.

167. John Coltrane / Lush Life (1961)

While Prestige's Lush Life was not released until 1961, it was recorded by Van Gelder during three sessions in '57 and '58. As he was no longer recording for the label, Coltrane had no say in it but ironically, the record contains a few of his choicest recordings playing in the small group, hard bop setting. This was an incredibly fertile period for Coltrane. He had yet to compose the seminal works that later appeared on Blue Note and Atlantic but was already working on the technique and musical ideas that would define his legacy. The first three tracks present Coltrane as leader of a pianoless trio, fleshing out a lot of chords in lieu of the keyboard. The most memorable moment on Lush Life is probably the title track, a luscious ballad owned by the leader until around nine minutes in when Donald Byrd steps out of the woodwork for some equally inspiring lines on the trumpet. Two years ago I was at a stoplight listening to this on the radio and was so transfixed by Byrd's meandering melancholy that it took a horn blast from the car behind me to break the reverie. While I'll never recreate that moment, I can still listen again and again. "Trane's Slo Blues" is also notable for Coltrane's moves inside the changes. These tracks appear on the boxset Fearless Leader although they are not presented in the same sequence as they are here, which is actually quite good. 

149. Cannonball Adderley Quintet in Chicago (1959)

Cannonball Adderley Quintet in Chicago (aka Cannonball & Coltrane on Limelight LS 86009) is a splendid disc from the core band that recorded Kind of Blue. "Limehouse Blues" stands ragtime roots on their head in the attitude of hard bop. A sparring match between alto and tenor proceeds at breathtaking pace until the tune reels in for a final, punctual tutti on the main theme. "Stars Fell on Alabama" is next and features very sensitive embellishments from Adderley. Kelly goes next, tinkling single notes into the dusty register. As saxes go, it's a pleasure to hear the two styles in opposition. Adderley and Coltrane ride atop the rhythmic swell and strike the bar at will. But the two players are not very similar. Contrast their rhythmic interpretations of "Wabash," or technique in "Grand Central," which crackles with Trane's rhythmic inventions in fast triplets. The ballad "You're a Weaver of Dreams" is handed to Coltrane, and Kelly strolls through some jaunty figures that recall the old school with aplomb. On each track, whether it's Adderley busting open the guts of the melody and improvising endlessly thoughtful variations on its theme, or Coltrane boldly probing the rhythmic and harmonic architecture, there's always something to hang an ear on. This disc is a fine compliment to Kind of Blue, Somethin' Else, and At Newport 1958.

132. John Coltrane / Fearless Leader (2006)

Coltrane's Prestige albums have been available in various formats since the 1950s. Another chapter in the flood of repackaged Coltrane on CD, Fearless Leader places his earliest recordings as leader in chronological order. This allows serious listeners to study his development as composer, arranger, and stylist without having to track down the individual records. Moreover, by removing these recordings from their in-album sequences, they exist in a proper or at least more authentic musical context. They transcend the supposition that is imposed by arbitrary sequencing and stand their ground against one another, in the order they were created. Listening to the whole box, or at least a good chunk of it in one sitting, is a rewarding experience. From the outset, Coltrane's groups are well rehearsed and the arrangements are tight. Throughout the progression, it's exciting to hear Coltrane's tone become more sonorous, his technique sharper, more assured. In addition to the leader, there's Paul Chambers, Art Taylor, Red Garland, Mal Waldron, Freddie Hubbard, and others. We hear them take some excellent shots at the blues, as well as Coltrane's peerless balladry in classic chestnuts like "Lush Life" (Donald Byrd around the 9-minute mark, wow), and some early sheets of sound ("Black Pearls," "Russian Lullaby"). Across six discs, there's too much to discuss here. Somebody could, and several people have, written books on this music. The concept of the six-disc set, plus accompanying booklet with copious photos and notes, make it a really attractive package. Unless you want the individual albums, I'd say this is a core collection item.

121. Johnny Griffin, John Coltrane, Hank Mobley / A Blowin' Session (1957)

Blue Note's A Blowin' Session featuring Little Giant, Trane, Hank Mobley, Lee Morgan, Wynton Kelly, Paul Chambers, and Art Blakey sounds exactly as you'd think it would. It's technically a Griffin date, who is leader, composer, and one third of the groups's tenor sax nucleus. But Morgan gets plenty of time, and so do Kelly and Blakey, for that matter as if Blakey's hard to miss. The meeting was a pickup after the Chicago-based Griffin found himself in New York at the same time as the others. With so many good players, it's a jazz buffet. The septet shows its talent in tracks like "The Way You Look Tonight," or the swinging ensemble groove of "Ball Bearing." As two horns who played with Miles Davis so close together, listening to Trane in opposition to Mobley is interesting (see Prestige's Two Tenors or Tenor Conclave for more of Trane and Mobley together). Morgan's licks on "Smoke Stack" set the pace for the rest of the group, though Coltrane feels overburdened, it's still my favorite cut on the album. Thankfully, there is an alternate take on the Blue Note CD that offers him a second chance as well as a wild good performance from Griffin. Why they issued the original take instead of this one remains a mystery to me, unless for the outstanding work by Morgan. As a note, this album also marks th eonly ecorded meeting between Griffin and Coltrane.

98. John Coltrane / Interstellar Space (1974)

This was actually recorded in 1967, but not released by Impulse! until '74, almost a decade after Coltrane's death. It's famously dense, but not impenetrable. Throughout the album, Coltrane demonstrates a litany of technical ideas by running through scales, stacking chords, and changing meters in snatches of modal improvisation. It is very experimental and obviously one of the more inaccessible works in the Coltrane canon. Interstellar Space was recorded shortly after the session that produced Stellar Regions, so many of these pieces share themes. "Saturn" is the longest piece, also the only one to lack bells in the intro. Some people latch onto "Venus" which is the closest thing to a conventional melody on the record. Rashied Ali plays like a mystic, and I often find myself listening to him more than Coltrane, whose explorations are searching but also noisy and make the ear weary. Ali's rhythms seem to accommodate any of Coltrane's fancies, or rather Coltrane is free to step in and out of them when it suits he is doing. This is huge music for 1967 that has been hotly debated, put down, or academically dissected ad nausea ever since. I'm happy that the package was expanded on CD to include the similarly minded "Leo" and "Jupiter Variation." 2013 has a lot more context for this type of musical activity than there was in 1967, and it's found a happy home with hundreds of people. That's the crime of being ahead of your time, that it takes everyone else that much lonegr to catch up. Gregg Bendian chose this album to recreate with Nels Cline (Interstellar Space Revisited), describing it in the liner as his love letter to free jazz drumming. In that regard, I can't think of a finer template. Listen to both, see where it takes you.

94. Thelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltrane at Carnegie Hall (2005)

Considering the complexity of Monk's style and the assertive individuality of Coltrane's style on the tenor, this music isn't just blazingly good, it's also surprisingly cohesive, at least to me. Rediscovered 2005 at the Library of Congress, it sheds invaluable light on the fabled partnership between Monk and Coltrane. Monk is so energetic, he's jumping all over the keyboard like popcorn, supported by a really intuitive drummer in Shadow Wilson.  Sometimes Coltrane lays out for long section while Monk sketches the melody or takes a chorus. But when Coltrane steps back in, Monk comes alive in give-and-take interplay that surges the whole group ahead. Coltrane isn't giving us a smattering of scalar flights of fancy. He's carefully picking and choosing his spots as an ensemble player and featured soloist. It' so much more mature than the music previously available from this union, and kudos to all involved for bringing it out in the open. It makes me wonder what else is hidden in the Library of Congress?

70. John Coltrane / Crescent (1964)

I love this album because it is so moody. Only during "Bessie's Blues" does he lighten up, although not for very long. I guess it's fitting that it comes from a different session. Jones sounds like rain to me, even when using sticks. He shuffles, clicks, clacks, swooshes, and bangs, just like a thunderstorm. It's the perfect accompaniment to Coltrane's moody tenor, and rhythmically speaking, gives him a long leash. Tyner contributes in a similar fashion, creating a colorful backdrop of notes that sound very much like the sheets of rain in a storm. The last track is pretty much all Jones, called "The Drum Thing." Contrasting with Trane's more exploratory work, these performances are almost rigidly disciplined. He doesn't abandon what he learned in the intervening years, he just applies it differently. The result is a more mature formulation of the post-bop he was doing during for Prestige, richly imagined and deeply reverent of its roots. It's something of a calm before the storm in the Coltrane canon, considering that the next year witnessed A Love Supreme and the year after, Ascension.

66. Miles Davis / At Newport 1958 (1958)

This live disc features the sextet that recorded Kind of Blue a short time later. It's also the debut of Cobb and Evans with the group. Davis premiered his new lineup in the context of Newport's considerable inertia. The gloves are off right from the start. "Ah Leu Cha" is the fastest I've heard it played by anyone and Adderley, Davis, and Coltrane show off their chops in blistering runs of mind boggling accuracy. If you haven't heard this, I advise you turn up the volume to fully appreciate these musicians when they start blowing. I think their power even surprised the leader. It's like going from 0 to 60 in an instant. Davis is in high spirits, talking all throughout the set, encouraging his musicians. Evans is careful when he slips between Adderley and Coltrane, but offers excellent harmonic advice and makes a few pointed statements as with "Straight No Chaser." It's easy to see why Davis picked him, and to hear him outside of his role in guiding the modalities heard in Kind of Blue is quite exciting. A short-lived and critically under-documented group, I'm thankful to have this disc.

58. John Coltrane / My Favorite Things (1961)

Coltrane's fluidity and eloquence with modal jazz hit a stride during these sessions, and the resulting albums (including also Coltrane Plays the Blues, Coltrane's Sound and Coltrane Legacy) are watershed recordings in the Coltrane oeuvre. And who better to support his statement of purpose than Elvin Jones and McCoy Tyner? Tyner's creative inversions and voicings rain down with a lush selection of harmonic possibilities and the mystically driven Jones shuffles through several rhythms at once, giving Coltrane maximum flexibility for his improvisations. Steve Davis plays wonderful bass, sometimes suggesting a single static harmonic element while Coltrane and Tyner wrap blizzards of changing ideas around it. The music is pleasant and listenable, infused equally with strains of Eastern ragas and the blues. Coltrane's soprano sax is haunting and delicate, assertive but not an overriding presence. It's remarkable that such individualistic music comes from a set without a single original. "But Not For Me" deftly reharmonized with Coltrane changes, and his long tenor solo is one of my favorite choruses from any musician, hands down.

34. Milt Jackson & John Coltrane / Bags and Trane (1961)

Released after My Favorite Things, Giant Steps, and Coltrane Jazz, this collaboration was recorded in 1959, and was actually the first album to be recorded by Coltrane on his new contract with Atlantic. It was sensible to wait until '61 to release it. Because while it's very good music, blues and standards by a quintet, and the exchange of ideas between Trane and Bags during improvisations makes it a few cuts above what it could be, given their prior associations, this album doesn't make the same splash. He wasn't their guy anymore, so you could view it as a safe play for Atlantic while Coltrane was en route to Impulse. I don't understand why Atlantic altered the sequence of the original LP when they released the CD, but they did. In this case, I don't think it matters. The Bags-penned blues numbers like "Late Late Blues" and "Blues Legacy" are my favorites. It seems that no matter where they were in the music, the blues were never very far behind either player, and that's a good thing. 

28. Benny Golson / Tenor Legacy (1998)

This album is essential. The explosive session is very natural and everyone is clearly enjoying it. Veteran Golson teams up with Branford Marsalis, James Carter and Harold Ashby to pay tribute to Dexter Gordon, Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young, Coltrane, and a half dozen more. The atomic "Lester Leaps In" places Golson's mature phrasing and fat tone between the young and more adventurous Carter, whose abrasive squall is the ideal foil. Ashby joins in for good measure, and the three-way melee is one hell of an opener. Golson gets a single track alone, the sweet ballad "In Memory of," dedicated to Don Byas accompanied by lush block chords and the rainy touch of sliding brushes. I also really enjoyed the take "My Favorite Things" a la Coltrane. The feel is much different than Trane's. Dwayne Burno's busy bass is another animal compared to the hauntingly ambiguous static elements that were played by Steve Davis, and pianist Geoff Keezer stands out above the assembled reeds and almost steals the show, alternating between shifting modalities and improvised linear melody.

22. Sonny Rollins / Tenor Madness (1956)

It's great to hear Coltrane and Sonny Rollins working alongside one another. At the time of this recording, both players were up and coming, on the brink of changing jazz as we hear it today. On the title track "Tenor Madness," everyone is eager and gregarious. Coltrane goes first, offering a bright, slippery tone with more focused objectives. Sonny is next, spreading it around more with a deeper, wetter tone. The playing from both men is anything but a cutting contest. In fact, they sound relaxed and patient, as if casually trying out new ideas without worrying about the overhead. It's a quality session with some historic import, and an interesting footnote to fans of Miles or Monk, for obvious reasons. Tenor Madness is also interesting in that it contains Miles Davis' working group, but proceeds without his direction. In that regard, the product comes off as far less focused and lacking the inertia of Workin', Steamin' or Relaxin'.

20. Miles Davis / The New Miles Davis Quintet (1956)

The maiden voyage on wax by the famous first quintet is short, sweet, and relaxed. It's still a young group as far as studio work was concerned so the set is fairly vanilla but hides a few gems, like Benny Golson's "Stablemates" and "The Theme," which is probably the hottest take on the disc. The performances hardly hint at what the band was capable of in a live setting, but Miles solos frequently and I really enjoy his thoughtful way with phrasing the ballads. Coltrane was still fishing for his voice and sounds a mite green compared to a few years later, but you can hear the pieces he's setting up. Another highlight is the opener, Ellington's "Just Squeeze Me." It has Chambers walking some coy figures on the bass while Philly Joe is keen to join the fun with the kick and snare, also playing some cool syncopated figures on the hi-hat. Overall, it's a smooth but enjoyable cruise and is sometimes so restrained that the rhythm section stands out more than the front line.

17. John Coltrane / Soultrane (1958)

Coltrane's Prestige releases get overlooked unfairly, usually by the same people who prefer his innovative compositions or wilder explorations like those on Blue Train or Giant Steps. But if someone who honestly enjoys jazz can still relegate Soultrane to the sideline after hearing the unbridled modality of "Russian Lullaby" or 10+ minutes of pure soul in Eckstine's "I Want to Talk About You," then maybe that person would be better served by another type of music. The music on Soultrane is stunning, and a great starting point to understand modal soloing in jazz, a ferocious technique that Ira Gitler described as "sheets of sound." Garland, Chambers and Taylor back up Coltrane heroically and have a keen sixth sense for what he is doing. The set is comprised of covers, including a few cooky ones like the aforementioned "Russian Lullaby" or Broadway's "You Say You Care." These bring a strong, focused urgency to the program, a quality that is always present in Coltrane's work but is laid plain in the standards.