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Coltrane: The Story of a Sound
A major work about the great saxophonist—and about the state of jazz.
What was the essence of John Coltrane’s achievement that makes him so prized forty years after his death? What was it about his improvising, his bands, his compositions, his place within his era of jazz that left so many musicians and listeners so powerfully drawn to him? What would a John Coltrane look like now—or are we looking for the wrong signs?The acclaimed jazz writer Ben Ratliff addresses these questions in Coltrane. First Ratliff tells the story of Coltrane’s development, from his first recordings as a no-name navy bandsman to his last recordings as a near-saint, paying special attention to the last ten years of his life, which contained a remarkable series of breakthroughs in a nearly religious search for deeper expression. In the book’s second half, Ratliff traces another history: that of Coltrane’s influence and legacy. This story begins in the mid-’50s and considers the reactions of musicians, critics, and others who paid attention, asking: Why does Coltrane signify so heavily in the basic identity of jazz?Placing jazz among other art forms and American social history, and placing Coltrane not just among jazz musicians but among the greatest American artists, Ratliff tries to look for the sources of power in Coltrane’s music—not just in matters of technique, composition, and musical concepts, but in the deeper frequencies of Coltrane’s sound.
What was the essence of John Coltrane’s achievement that makes him so prized forty years after his death? What was it about his improvising, his bands, his compositions, his place within his era of jazz that left so many musicians and listeners so powerfully drawn to him? What would a John Coltrane look like now—or are we looking for the wrong signs?The acclaimed jazz writer Ben Ratliff addresses these questions in Coltrane. First Ratliff tells the story of Coltrane’s development, from his first recordings as a no-name navy bandsman to his last recordings as a near-saint, paying special attention to the last ten years of his life, which contained a remarkable series of breakthroughs in a nearly religious search for deeper expression. In the book’s second half, Ratliff traces another history: that of Coltrane’s influence and legacy. This story begins in the mid-’50s and considers the reactions of musicians, critics, and others who paid attention, asking: Why does Coltrane signify so heavily in the basic identity of jazz?Placing jazz among other art forms and American social history, and placing Coltrane not just among jazz musicians but among the greatest American artists, Ratliff tries to look for the sources of power in Coltrane’s music—not just in matters of technique, composition, and musical concepts, but in the deeper frequencies of Coltrane’s sound.
250 pages, Hardcover
First published September 1, 2007
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 108 reviews
October 29, 2019
Finally a jazz book that deals with the music instead of the personal failings of the artist. Ben Ratliff is part of a lineage that includes Ira Gitler, Leonard Feather and Joel Selvin, writers who used to write opinionated and incisive liner notes in small print on the back of LP's. In Coltrane, he offers a convincing analysis of why Coltrane was a hero in his own time and, in Part Two of the book, why he continues to cast such a large shadow over jazz after his passing passing.
Jazz arouses passions. There have been rancorous schisms in jazz, gunfights over chord changes (as memorably recounted in Ken Burns' series). There were the Moldy Fig Wars that raged in the '40's over trad jazz vs. BeBop. This book goes into the divide between Free Jazz and 'Playing the Changes' that split listeners as well as players for about 25 years from roughly 1967-1992. Fascinatingly, John Coltrane appears on both sides. He was arguably the most learned player out there, his arpeggios and scales were so well understood and incorporated that he played them with blazing speed and precision. Then, like Picasso moving from realism to his own thang, Coltrane let go of the side of the river and floated free in an Alan Watts-like Buddhist act of faith.
The research done by Ratliff pays off as he navigates these waters. What emerges is the idea Ratliff expresses in his title, The Story of a Sound. Coltrane was always about the sound of the band and on a deeper level, Sound with a capital S as opposed to demonstrations of music theory.
I feel that John Coltrane was playing music that was deeply personal and some of the primal scream aspects of his later music can be understood, and treasured, when seen as a human bellow of truth. He was working some shit out, out loud, Like Walt Whitman pointed us toward. And it is beautiful!
Jazz arouses passions. There have been rancorous schisms in jazz, gunfights over chord changes (as memorably recounted in Ken Burns' series). There were the Moldy Fig Wars that raged in the '40's over trad jazz vs. BeBop. This book goes into the divide between Free Jazz and 'Playing the Changes' that split listeners as well as players for about 25 years from roughly 1967-1992. Fascinatingly, John Coltrane appears on both sides. He was arguably the most learned player out there, his arpeggios and scales were so well understood and incorporated that he played them with blazing speed and precision. Then, like Picasso moving from realism to his own thang, Coltrane let go of the side of the river and floated free in an Alan Watts-like Buddhist act of faith.
The research done by Ratliff pays off as he navigates these waters. What emerges is the idea Ratliff expresses in his title, The Story of a Sound. Coltrane was always about the sound of the band and on a deeper level, Sound with a capital S as opposed to demonstrations of music theory.
I feel that John Coltrane was playing music that was deeply personal and some of the primal scream aspects of his later music can be understood, and treasured, when seen as a human bellow of truth. He was working some shit out, out loud, Like Walt Whitman pointed us toward. And it is beautiful!
April 16, 2012
This was an absolutely fabulous book. Mind you, it’s not a biography of John Coltrane and was never meant to be – read the subtitle: “The Story of A Sound.” Ratliff provides a fascinating and detailed story about how this sound that would be more influential than any other in this music that has come to be broadly defined as ‘jazz’ evolved. Having listened to Coltrane for some four decades and knowing most of his records in and out, this book provided me with so many insights into the music and the man that I had to go back and listen to many of the records with the book in hand. What is so refreshing about this book is Ratliff’s sober analysis, which recognizes the enormous talent and inner drive of Coltrane without placing him on a pedestal as a saint. In fact, Ratliff demonstrates quite clearly how the mythology about Coltrane, especially after his death, took a life of its own and became a straightjacket for a generation of musicians (especially saxophonists) that came after.
The first part of the book follows Coltrane’s growth and the development of his music – or sound – from the earliest surviving recordings from his army times after the World War II. Coltrane was a late bloomer and only found his own musical and spiritual self much later. Miles Davis in whose band Trane played during two stretches of time was clearly a mentor with a critical influence on the man’s development. Having kicked an early heroin habit in 1957, Coltrane embarked on a search that lacks parallels in the history of jazz. Having exhausted the harmonic possibilities embedded in traditional chord progressions culminating in the systematic study that was presented as ‘Giant Steps,’ Coltrane moved onto entirely new spheres based on modal music (an area where Miles’ influence is evident). Ratliff gives credit where credit is due, recognizing the enormous importance of the ‘classic quartet’ – with McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Garrison and Elvin Jones – and how it became part of the sound that so mesmerized the jazz world. But Trane had to move on with his eternal search. He started incorporating new elements to the music, first bringing in Eric Dolphy into the quartet, then adding a second drummer – Rashied Ali – and eventually opening it up to young experimental musicians who may not have been technically or philosophically his peers – Albert Ayler, Pharoah Sanders, his own second wife Alice Coltrane – but whose music he embraced because he was not able to stop searching. In the process, he disappointed many of his fans and forsook the considerable popularity and accompanying commercial success he had achieved (imagine that his version of “My Favorite Things” had been a considerable hit and had even been released as a single). For many, the “late Coltrane” music was an aberration, something that had lost the swing and harmony that jazz was made of. As Ratliff shows, for John Coltrane, a modest and highly private man, such considerations were not important as he strove to develop his music further as a spiritual practice.
Especially after his death, the mythology around Coltrane exploded. The second part of this excellent book explores this phenomenon and looks at Coltrane in the context of the times and how he influenced music far beyond being just one tenor sax player and band leader whose effective career had been quite short (the classic Coltrane quartet, which is mostly associated with his legend as a God, essentially lasted for barely half a decade). He was declared a saint by many – there is even a church in San Francisco called St. John Coltrane – and there were endless interpretations of his thinking as a radical iconoclast, freedom fighter, champion of equal rights, religious and spiritual leader. The man himself hardly said any such things directly. Clearly, he was a religious man – as evident from works like “A Love Supreme” – but not devoted to any particular organized religion. Similarly, some of his music apparently were statements referring to racial injustices (it seems fair to assume that “Alabama” was in reference to the events that had unfolded in Birmingham, Alabama). It has been said that Coltrane rejected the Western cultural dominance and turned to Africa and the East. It’s true that works from “Olé” to “Africa/Brass” evoked rhythms and tonalities that expanded the expression of jazz, yet at the same time his music was very firmly rooted in the blues. Unlike many others who followed, Coltrane was deeply knowledgeable about music theory and harmony and his music was an extension of everything that had come before him. He was obsessed with practice – he was known to practice even during the breaks between sets at clubs – and consequently his technique was incredible. Coltrane knew that freedom only comes from knowing and fully understanding what was earlier.
Coltrane, as Ratliff explains, had wide and long-lasting impact on musical life throughout the 1970s and 1980s and still today. The cult surrounding him eclipsed all other musicians and their contributions to jazz. For a generation, all tenor players were expected (by themselves and by others) to sound like Coltrane (with the exception of Sonny Rollins), thus stymying their own voices. There was an ideological split between free jazz that was seen as progressive and all other variations of jazz that eventually led to a marginalization of jazz as a popular music form at the same time as pop music was becoming the commercial force that it is still today. In fact, there have been theories over the years that have blamed Coltrane for killing jazz by leading it away from swinging entertainment. Obviously, this is a simplistic view that Ratliff does not subscribe to, but his book helps to understand how it could be perceived so. While free jazz isolated itself, many pop musicians were listening to Coltrane and adopting aspects of his musical philosophy (explicit tributes like those by Carlos Santana and John McLaughlin were preceded by the kinds of The Grateful Dead, The Doors, even The Byrds, who emulated Coltrane’s approach to long modally based jams). While jazz clubs in New York and elsewhere closed their doors, official funding for the arts redoubled – and again redoubled – in the 1970s (here Ratliff tells a story that resonates with that from the classical music side as recounted by Blair Tindall in “Mozart in the Jungle”) rendering jazz a form of established repertory music (think Winton Marsalis and Jazz at the Lincoln Center). Only in recent years has the jazz scene seen a unification of points of views and an emergence of new artists and composers who create new music free from the old divisions – and from copying Coltrane.
Ratliff ends his book by posing the rhetorical question: Who will be the next Coltrane? He answers it by firmly stating that it is the wrong question. No single musician has such an influence in lifting up an entire sensibility. Coltrane’s greatness wasn’t all his own doing, says Ratliff; there were circumstances:
“He found his way when Miles Davis took a chance on him. He found it
comparatively late in life, as an adult of newly organized habits who had his own physical weaknesses to defend. He found it when thousands of intelligent listeners in America were waking up to music from other cultures. He found it just when audiences were ready to place their trust in a popular musician as a kind of divine messenger. He found it precisely when club owners were willing to countenance a band leader who felt like playing the same song for half an hour. … Above all, Coltrane created possibilities for good things to happen in bands. He had a knack for benign direction” (pp. 216-217).
The first part of the book follows Coltrane’s growth and the development of his music – or sound – from the earliest surviving recordings from his army times after the World War II. Coltrane was a late bloomer and only found his own musical and spiritual self much later. Miles Davis in whose band Trane played during two stretches of time was clearly a mentor with a critical influence on the man’s development. Having kicked an early heroin habit in 1957, Coltrane embarked on a search that lacks parallels in the history of jazz. Having exhausted the harmonic possibilities embedded in traditional chord progressions culminating in the systematic study that was presented as ‘Giant Steps,’ Coltrane moved onto entirely new spheres based on modal music (an area where Miles’ influence is evident). Ratliff gives credit where credit is due, recognizing the enormous importance of the ‘classic quartet’ – with McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Garrison and Elvin Jones – and how it became part of the sound that so mesmerized the jazz world. But Trane had to move on with his eternal search. He started incorporating new elements to the music, first bringing in Eric Dolphy into the quartet, then adding a second drummer – Rashied Ali – and eventually opening it up to young experimental musicians who may not have been technically or philosophically his peers – Albert Ayler, Pharoah Sanders, his own second wife Alice Coltrane – but whose music he embraced because he was not able to stop searching. In the process, he disappointed many of his fans and forsook the considerable popularity and accompanying commercial success he had achieved (imagine that his version of “My Favorite Things” had been a considerable hit and had even been released as a single). For many, the “late Coltrane” music was an aberration, something that had lost the swing and harmony that jazz was made of. As Ratliff shows, for John Coltrane, a modest and highly private man, such considerations were not important as he strove to develop his music further as a spiritual practice.
Especially after his death, the mythology around Coltrane exploded. The second part of this excellent book explores this phenomenon and looks at Coltrane in the context of the times and how he influenced music far beyond being just one tenor sax player and band leader whose effective career had been quite short (the classic Coltrane quartet, which is mostly associated with his legend as a God, essentially lasted for barely half a decade). He was declared a saint by many – there is even a church in San Francisco called St. John Coltrane – and there were endless interpretations of his thinking as a radical iconoclast, freedom fighter, champion of equal rights, religious and spiritual leader. The man himself hardly said any such things directly. Clearly, he was a religious man – as evident from works like “A Love Supreme” – but not devoted to any particular organized religion. Similarly, some of his music apparently were statements referring to racial injustices (it seems fair to assume that “Alabama” was in reference to the events that had unfolded in Birmingham, Alabama). It has been said that Coltrane rejected the Western cultural dominance and turned to Africa and the East. It’s true that works from “Olé” to “Africa/Brass” evoked rhythms and tonalities that expanded the expression of jazz, yet at the same time his music was very firmly rooted in the blues. Unlike many others who followed, Coltrane was deeply knowledgeable about music theory and harmony and his music was an extension of everything that had come before him. He was obsessed with practice – he was known to practice even during the breaks between sets at clubs – and consequently his technique was incredible. Coltrane knew that freedom only comes from knowing and fully understanding what was earlier.
Coltrane, as Ratliff explains, had wide and long-lasting impact on musical life throughout the 1970s and 1980s and still today. The cult surrounding him eclipsed all other musicians and their contributions to jazz. For a generation, all tenor players were expected (by themselves and by others) to sound like Coltrane (with the exception of Sonny Rollins), thus stymying their own voices. There was an ideological split between free jazz that was seen as progressive and all other variations of jazz that eventually led to a marginalization of jazz as a popular music form at the same time as pop music was becoming the commercial force that it is still today. In fact, there have been theories over the years that have blamed Coltrane for killing jazz by leading it away from swinging entertainment. Obviously, this is a simplistic view that Ratliff does not subscribe to, but his book helps to understand how it could be perceived so. While free jazz isolated itself, many pop musicians were listening to Coltrane and adopting aspects of his musical philosophy (explicit tributes like those by Carlos Santana and John McLaughlin were preceded by the kinds of The Grateful Dead, The Doors, even The Byrds, who emulated Coltrane’s approach to long modally based jams). While jazz clubs in New York and elsewhere closed their doors, official funding for the arts redoubled – and again redoubled – in the 1970s (here Ratliff tells a story that resonates with that from the classical music side as recounted by Blair Tindall in “Mozart in the Jungle”) rendering jazz a form of established repertory music (think Winton Marsalis and Jazz at the Lincoln Center). Only in recent years has the jazz scene seen a unification of points of views and an emergence of new artists and composers who create new music free from the old divisions – and from copying Coltrane.
Ratliff ends his book by posing the rhetorical question: Who will be the next Coltrane? He answers it by firmly stating that it is the wrong question. No single musician has such an influence in lifting up an entire sensibility. Coltrane’s greatness wasn’t all his own doing, says Ratliff; there were circumstances:
“He found his way when Miles Davis took a chance on him. He found it
comparatively late in life, as an adult of newly organized habits who had his own physical weaknesses to defend. He found it when thousands of intelligent listeners in America were waking up to music from other cultures. He found it just when audiences were ready to place their trust in a popular musician as a kind of divine messenger. He found it precisely when club owners were willing to countenance a band leader who felt like playing the same song for half an hour. … Above all, Coltrane created possibilities for good things to happen in bands. He had a knack for benign direction” (pp. 216-217).
August 16, 2021
Oh boy...
I remember that I bought this book a few years ago at the suggestion of a mentor of mine who is, like me, a big fan of John Coltrane. So being the jazz nerd that I am (I'm not pretentious enough to be an aficionado yet), I decided to pick this one up because, as the book suggests, John Coltrane is a man who's hard to not get into and get wrapped up in the mythology around him. The book is not really a biography on the man, rather than it is an exploration of the man's methodology, as well as his musical biography, if that makes sense at all. I could mention how Ratliff's prose is quick and efficient in getting its point across and how it's a damn good telling of Coltrane's life, and while I do believe that, I just can't write that, it's too surface level for what this book is about.
John Coltrane is an enigma, to put it the least. Yes, we do know a good bit about his life, but at the same time we don't know anything about what he truly thought about the world around him, only getting hints in his music as well as hearing it from interviews with people he knew and was close to, like his second wife Alice or his drummer at the end of his life Rashied Ali. He was a philosopher, who was never satisfied with the world that he was given and never taking things at face value, but he was also an artist and a dreamer who was always searching for the perfect sound, much like his contemporary and former bandleader Miles Davis. But while Davis was gruff, abrasive, and to the point, Coltrane was verbose, forcing you into the moment of his sound and forcing you to make your own conclusions about what he was saying, but granted he also took Davis' abrasiveness in some of his records.
But what makes him as unique as he was is that he wasn't playing for us mere humans, he was playing for the gods. Ratliff, and Coltrane for that matter, don't care about what mode he played or what chords, or harmonies, or tunes and Ratliff knows that's not what made Coltrane special. Like I said before, he was playing for the gods, the cosmos, or whatever is out there in the world. He played because he felt that was the only way that he was going to purify himself and seek the truly good and the beautiful...in his own words.
"I want to be a force for real good. In other words. I know that there are bad forces, forces that bring suffering to others and misery to the world, but I want to be the opposite force. I want to be the force which is truly for good."
Coltrane's influence in the jazz genre is far reaching and nigh impossible to get away from, much like how it's almost impossible to escape Alan Moore's influence on comics or The Doors or Pink Floyd's influence on rock. Ratliff understands that and instead of just giving us his life story and how his music was as technically proficient as it was, he seeks to answer on why his music has lasted as long as it did, and as always when it comes to this, he doesn't find the answer, but comes to his own conclusion to why Coltrane was so important in jazz.
To end things, I think that this book is a rather insightful and compelling look into the life of a modern myth in America and finding the humanity, as well as the spirituality of the man. It's a great beginner work for people who want to understand Coltrane's life and philosophy and why he was as far reaching as he was. It's a work that, like Coltrane himself, will survive into the ages.
I remember that I bought this book a few years ago at the suggestion of a mentor of mine who is, like me, a big fan of John Coltrane. So being the jazz nerd that I am (I'm not pretentious enough to be an aficionado yet), I decided to pick this one up because, as the book suggests, John Coltrane is a man who's hard to not get into and get wrapped up in the mythology around him. The book is not really a biography on the man, rather than it is an exploration of the man's methodology, as well as his musical biography, if that makes sense at all. I could mention how Ratliff's prose is quick and efficient in getting its point across and how it's a damn good telling of Coltrane's life, and while I do believe that, I just can't write that, it's too surface level for what this book is about.
John Coltrane is an enigma, to put it the least. Yes, we do know a good bit about his life, but at the same time we don't know anything about what he truly thought about the world around him, only getting hints in his music as well as hearing it from interviews with people he knew and was close to, like his second wife Alice or his drummer at the end of his life Rashied Ali. He was a philosopher, who was never satisfied with the world that he was given and never taking things at face value, but he was also an artist and a dreamer who was always searching for the perfect sound, much like his contemporary and former bandleader Miles Davis. But while Davis was gruff, abrasive, and to the point, Coltrane was verbose, forcing you into the moment of his sound and forcing you to make your own conclusions about what he was saying, but granted he also took Davis' abrasiveness in some of his records.
But what makes him as unique as he was is that he wasn't playing for us mere humans, he was playing for the gods. Ratliff, and Coltrane for that matter, don't care about what mode he played or what chords, or harmonies, or tunes and Ratliff knows that's not what made Coltrane special. Like I said before, he was playing for the gods, the cosmos, or whatever is out there in the world. He played because he felt that was the only way that he was going to purify himself and seek the truly good and the beautiful...in his own words.
"I want to be a force for real good. In other words. I know that there are bad forces, forces that bring suffering to others and misery to the world, but I want to be the opposite force. I want to be the force which is truly for good."
Coltrane's influence in the jazz genre is far reaching and nigh impossible to get away from, much like how it's almost impossible to escape Alan Moore's influence on comics or The Doors or Pink Floyd's influence on rock. Ratliff understands that and instead of just giving us his life story and how his music was as technically proficient as it was, he seeks to answer on why his music has lasted as long as it did, and as always when it comes to this, he doesn't find the answer, but comes to his own conclusion to why Coltrane was so important in jazz.
To end things, I think that this book is a rather insightful and compelling look into the life of a modern myth in America and finding the humanity, as well as the spirituality of the man. It's a great beginner work for people who want to understand Coltrane's life and philosophy and why he was as far reaching as he was. It's a work that, like Coltrane himself, will survive into the ages.
February 21, 2008
Man, this book's a gem. Had read three previous Trane books; this smokes 'em all. Ratliff writes about music on a weekly basis for The New York Times but that didn't prepare me for this. Essentially, he's interested in two things: what influences and choices and reflections led Coltrane to forge the path he did, and why Trane's death discombobulated jazz. He examines both threads in detail, writes intelligently about the actual music without losing the non-player (like me), fearlessly deconstructs previously off-limits myths, poses enough questions for two or three more books. Knocked it out in three days, then filled up my MP3 player with about 11 hours of free jazz. Thus, it passed one of the true tests of great books about music: they stoke your listening fire.
July 18, 2021
One of the best books on music I've read. Ratliff treads the line between musical and cultural discussion with ease and aplomb. The first part of the book traces Coltrane's musical evolution from his earliest, tentative recordings, through his early sideman gigs, his formative stints with Miles and Monk and his own extraordinary journey from the heights of technical virtuosity and harmonic complexity to an increasingly free, instinctive sound. The second half traces his musical and cultural influence all the way up to the beginning of this century. This is a thoroughly researched book - nearly a third of the volume details sources including Ratliff's own interviews with musicians. There is no attempt to fit Coltrane into any pet theory, any overarching vision of his music and career except what is supported by the music itself. In the end, Ratiff offers the most sensible prescription for ensuring we have more such towering figures in jazz - not more grants and record labels - but more venues and gigs. Jazz is a music forged in the furnace of real time communication between musicians and musicians, musicians and audiences, and without that vital platform, it loses its questing, protean power, more so than many other genres.
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April 21, 2021This was very good. Ratliff has his blindspots and towards the end is prone to stretching Coltrane's case a bit, even if his all-encompassing influence is a fact. My favorite part remains the book's single-minded focus on the story of the music as much (if not more) than the man. It's a refreshing approach to musician biographies and I hope to find more in this vein.
February 29, 2008
In most of the readings I have done on jazz, the problem I usually encounter is the writing about technique and technical aspects of the music. As I am not a student of music, I have a little difficulty getting my brain wrapped around the technical jargon. This was the case for parts of this book.
However, for the most part, I found the book illuminating in that it helped me to better appreciate, or rather better articulate my appreciation for, the music and the work of John Coltrane. The name has always evoked mystery for me and it seems to evoke somewhat the same for most who have come in contact with him.
Coltrane aimed for sainthood. I don't know if he achieved this, but I believe that he acheived transcendance!!
However, for the most part, I found the book illuminating in that it helped me to better appreciate, or rather better articulate my appreciation for, the music and the work of John Coltrane. The name has always evoked mystery for me and it seems to evoke somewhat the same for most who have come in contact with him.
Coltrane aimed for sainthood. I don't know if he achieved this, but I believe that he acheived transcendance!!
April 1, 2008
Provocative, well-written, and concise look at the evolution of Coltrane as a musician and how his sound shaped jazz in the decaes after his death. Essential reading for fans, but I can't shake the sense that Ratliff doesn't entirely dig Coltrane. I mean, what's up with a Trane book that devotes three times as many pages to random saxophonist Marcus Strickland as to Pharoah Sanders and Alice Coltrane, both of whom actually played with the man?
July 28, 2017
This is not a biography on Coltrane's life, but rather a thorough examination of his sound and how it developed, morphed and changed throughout his career. I very much enjoyed this book and highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys Coltrane's music and is interested in what when into his infectious and unique sound.
June 26, 2019
If there was ever a case for a book being first and foremost an audio-book, then Ben Ratliff's comprehensive study of John Coltrane IS that book. Mr Ratcliff is the jazz critic for the New York Times.
I was searching for a biography of Coltrane as I was listening to his music more and more and references were cropping up regularly to him in books on painting. I wanted to understand where he had come from and how he fundamentally changed the shape of jazz. This book starts with a fairly regular race through Coltrane's early life and his start of playing with various bands.
When it moves into the Miles era it really becomes a little sketchy on his involvement and in fact I felt that Ratcliff in some ways is somewhat dismissive of this period. Maybe it is because it takes you away from one jazz great and onto another. It is also from this point that the book starts to lose anyone who is not right up there in music theory. When a muso starts talking about 5ths and 8ths alone then us non-muso's tend to start to feel the hand of Morpheus and try desperately to keep the yawn from our faces. When he follows that up by going on about I-II-V-d and ii-V progressions then the answer starts to be a 'WTF!!!' from us non-musos. And I quite well realise that the fault is not so much with the book but lies in us non-musos in not knowing wtf he is talking about. And I desperately did want to know.
For me the answer lies in the music. If you listen to the music then you hear what is different from what. I don't know what that is .... but I know what it sounds like! So to go back to my top line THIS BOOK SHOULD BE AN AUDIO-BOOK!!! The fact that Ratcliff also name checks so many other artists and styles which if you have not heard these guys then it is like Ratcliff becomes an advertising man for the record labels that hold these artistes music.
The last part of the book, on Coltrane's legacy and the future of jazz makes for very interesting reading and the argument that Coltrane did more to hold back sax players than progress them, particularly in the late spiritually inspired music, is examined well.
All in all then an interesting book, too deep and muso-specific in parts, not biographic enough in others, but in the end a decent attempt to get across the depth and complexity of John Coltrane and his music. Only a three but still a worthwhile if at times mystifying book.
I was searching for a biography of Coltrane as I was listening to his music more and more and references were cropping up regularly to him in books on painting. I wanted to understand where he had come from and how he fundamentally changed the shape of jazz. This book starts with a fairly regular race through Coltrane's early life and his start of playing with various bands.
When it moves into the Miles era it really becomes a little sketchy on his involvement and in fact I felt that Ratcliff in some ways is somewhat dismissive of this period. Maybe it is because it takes you away from one jazz great and onto another. It is also from this point that the book starts to lose anyone who is not right up there in music theory. When a muso starts talking about 5ths and 8ths alone then us non-muso's tend to start to feel the hand of Morpheus and try desperately to keep the yawn from our faces. When he follows that up by going on about I-II-V-d and ii-V progressions then the answer starts to be a 'WTF!!!' from us non-musos. And I quite well realise that the fault is not so much with the book but lies in us non-musos in not knowing wtf he is talking about. And I desperately did want to know.
For me the answer lies in the music. If you listen to the music then you hear what is different from what. I don't know what that is .... but I know what it sounds like! So to go back to my top line THIS BOOK SHOULD BE AN AUDIO-BOOK!!! The fact that Ratcliff also name checks so many other artists and styles which if you have not heard these guys then it is like Ratcliff becomes an advertising man for the record labels that hold these artistes music.
The last part of the book, on Coltrane's legacy and the future of jazz makes for very interesting reading and the argument that Coltrane did more to hold back sax players than progress them, particularly in the late spiritually inspired music, is examined well.
All in all then an interesting book, too deep and muso-specific in parts, not biographic enough in others, but in the end a decent attempt to get across the depth and complexity of John Coltrane and his music. Only a three but still a worthwhile if at times mystifying book.
January 12, 2010
Quick, fun, yet highly insightful read.
While most music critics concern themselves with drawing distinctions between the various stylistic phases of a musician's career, Ratliff pursues the unity of a musician's 'sound' — "a full and sensible embodiment of his artistic personality, such that it can be heard, at best, in a single note," (x). For him, Trane's 'sound' is the end result of "a slow but unstoppable process" (202) that unified his diverse experiments with a seemingly endless variety of styles.
Crucially, the focus on 'sound' allows Ratliff to evade a narrow focus on the man himself. In other words, this is not a hagiography. The reason? Simple: the only structure capable of allowing a musician to cultivate his or her 'sound,' according to Ratliff, is a band — preferably one that stays together for a long time, gigs regularly, and allows its members the time to play and play until they can synthesize their varied influences into unity. Without taking away from Trane's incessant — even obsessive — practicing regimen, Ratliff insists that Trane's supremacy was also a result of his luck in finding great bands — Monk's, Miles', later his own — that allowed him the time and the freedom to develop.
Ratliff narrates with brio, passion, and a virtuosic vocabulary, layering metaphors like Trane's famous "sheets of sound" (Ira Gitler). In the process, he shows off his own 'sound' while seeking Coltrane's. Thankfully, this willingness to use a purple passage here and there does not obscure Ratliff's broad knowledge about music, nor his ability to ground his discussions in specific elements of rhythm, harmony, melody, &c. I also enjoyed Ratliff's consistent effort to link Trane up with larger American artistic trends, beyond jazz and also in other art forms. Definitely enjoyable, even a bit inspiring.
While most music critics concern themselves with drawing distinctions between the various stylistic phases of a musician's career, Ratliff pursues the unity of a musician's 'sound' — "a full and sensible embodiment of his artistic personality, such that it can be heard, at best, in a single note," (x). For him, Trane's 'sound' is the end result of "a slow but unstoppable process" (202) that unified his diverse experiments with a seemingly endless variety of styles.
Crucially, the focus on 'sound' allows Ratliff to evade a narrow focus on the man himself. In other words, this is not a hagiography. The reason? Simple: the only structure capable of allowing a musician to cultivate his or her 'sound,' according to Ratliff, is a band — preferably one that stays together for a long time, gigs regularly, and allows its members the time to play and play until they can synthesize their varied influences into unity. Without taking away from Trane's incessant — even obsessive — practicing regimen, Ratliff insists that Trane's supremacy was also a result of his luck in finding great bands — Monk's, Miles', later his own — that allowed him the time and the freedom to develop.
Ratliff narrates with brio, passion, and a virtuosic vocabulary, layering metaphors like Trane's famous "sheets of sound" (Ira Gitler). In the process, he shows off his own 'sound' while seeking Coltrane's. Thankfully, this willingness to use a purple passage here and there does not obscure Ratliff's broad knowledge about music, nor his ability to ground his discussions in specific elements of rhythm, harmony, melody, &c. I also enjoyed Ratliff's consistent effort to link Trane up with larger American artistic trends, beyond jazz and also in other art forms. Definitely enjoyable, even a bit inspiring.
June 11, 2015
This is a book for jazz lovers. Ratliff displays extensive knowledge of the forms and structures of jazz as he leads the reader through the evolution of Coltrane's unique sound, which had a major influence on his contemporaries, especially saxophone players, and on many jazz musicians who followed him. Ratliff makes the case that Coltrane pushed jazz into new realms through his experiments with harmonics and the use of repetition that anticipates the music of Philip Glass. Coltrane is portrayed as almost saintlike in his devotion to his craft and in his explorations of the potential of jazz to bring both musicians and audiences into a higher state of consciousness. (Hear especially his album "A Love Supreme.") We also learn from Ratliff about Coltrane's working relationship with many of the premiere names in jazz, including Duke Ellington, Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis, and Ornette Coleman, as well as key members of his own band. I wished reading the book that Ratliff had found a more solid organizational structure for his account. The narrative often felt repetitive. The book made me want to listen to more Coltrane, whom I heard play at the Village Vanguard in New York during the 1950s.
May 2, 2014
Rating this lower based on my own experience--I don't know enough about musical structure to fully understand all of Ratliff's comments. That said, he does a great job of explaining Coltrane's choices and the thought and study that went into them. Second half is not quite as good, since he's trying to explain all of the ways Coltrane has been understood/interpreted/worshiped/rejected, and he can't quite simplify as elegantly. At times, discussing later Coltrane, it's not that different from reading about how Finnegans Wake has been understood, or not.
The final problem is the problem of all writing about music--he loves "Chasin' the Trane"; I love "India." Is he right, or am I?
The final problem is the problem of all writing about music--he loves "Chasin' the Trane"; I love "India." Is he right, or am I?
July 31, 2011
I love the first half of this book. Ratliff does some great research and deftly describes Coltrane's sound without relying too much on musical theory jargon (which can often be deadly for people who aren't musicologists). The second half, though, loses a bit of steam and is far less coherent. Still, for fans of Coltrane, this is a welcome addition to growing body of work on the musician.
December 27, 2021
John Coltrane has been more widely imitated in jazz over the past half-century than any other figure. In The Story of a Sound, former New York Times jazz critic Ben Ratliff explores the essence of Coltrane’s achievement that makes him so prized fifty-five years after his death. He asks: “Why have so many musicians and listeners been so powerfully drawn to him? What was it about his improvisation, his bands, his compositions, his place within his era of jazz? What were the factors that helped Coltrane become who he was? And what would a John Coltrane look like now, or are we wrong to be looking for such a figure?”
Ratliff explores these questions through the sensibility of the critic, rather than the biographer. He divides his book into two parts. The first tells the story of Coltrane’s music – from his first recordings as a navy man (1946), through his apprenticeships with Miles Davis (1955-1960) and Thelonious Monk (1957), to his most powerful work with the “Classic Quartet” (1961-65) and his late-period free jazz experiments (1965-67). The second, more important part of the book explores why Coltrane has cast such a large shadow over jazz after his passing. Part of the answer lies in the fact that he operated on a significantly compressed timeline (he was just forty when he died of liver cancer). In his last ten years, from 1957 to 1967, Coltrane cycled through as many artistic periods as Picasso did in 80 years, straddling all the major jazz idioms from chord-based harmonic exploration to trailblazing free jazz playing. He moved at such a fast pace that we are still absorbing him into our musical culture today.
What explains the creative restlessness that propelled Coltrane forward? As the title of the book suggests, he cared about something larger than technique and style. Coltrane was searching for the perfect sound: “a full and sensible embodiment of his artistic personality, such that it can be heard, at best, in a single note.” Everything he did in his musical life – practicing obsessively, constantly tweaking his mouthpieces and reeds, pushing harmony to its limits – was in service of this single-minded goal. In addition, Coltrane was incredibly perceptive to what was happening around him. Like Warhol, who Blake Gopnik has described as the “world’s greatest sponge,” Coltrane soaked up every aspect of the musical culture around him. His sound was thus shaped by the broader context it was developed in. Ratliff writes:
“One of the most useful and overriding ways to comprehend the arc of Coltrane’s work, one that contains significance for jazz now, is to notice how much he could use what was going on around him in music. He was hawklike toward arrivals to his world, immediately curious about how they could serve his own ends, and how he could serve theirs. Every time a new jazz musician drifted into New York and began impressing people, every time he encountered a musician with a particular technique, system, or theory, every time a new kind of foreign music was being listened to by others in the scene, Coltrane wanted to know about it; he absorbed the foreign bodies, and tried to find a place for them in his own music. He learned as much as he could of the life around him and behind him, and retained only what best suited him, such that you usually couldn’t tell what he had been drinking up.”
Overall, Ratliff’s book is neither biography nor critical study, although it contains elements of both. The chapters about Coltrane’s posthumous legacy fill some important gaps in Lewis Porter’s 1998 biography. If you’re a Coltrane fan, I recommend reading both books in tandem.
Ratliff explores these questions through the sensibility of the critic, rather than the biographer. He divides his book into two parts. The first tells the story of Coltrane’s music – from his first recordings as a navy man (1946), through his apprenticeships with Miles Davis (1955-1960) and Thelonious Monk (1957), to his most powerful work with the “Classic Quartet” (1961-65) and his late-period free jazz experiments (1965-67). The second, more important part of the book explores why Coltrane has cast such a large shadow over jazz after his passing. Part of the answer lies in the fact that he operated on a significantly compressed timeline (he was just forty when he died of liver cancer). In his last ten years, from 1957 to 1967, Coltrane cycled through as many artistic periods as Picasso did in 80 years, straddling all the major jazz idioms from chord-based harmonic exploration to trailblazing free jazz playing. He moved at such a fast pace that we are still absorbing him into our musical culture today.
What explains the creative restlessness that propelled Coltrane forward? As the title of the book suggests, he cared about something larger than technique and style. Coltrane was searching for the perfect sound: “a full and sensible embodiment of his artistic personality, such that it can be heard, at best, in a single note.” Everything he did in his musical life – practicing obsessively, constantly tweaking his mouthpieces and reeds, pushing harmony to its limits – was in service of this single-minded goal. In addition, Coltrane was incredibly perceptive to what was happening around him. Like Warhol, who Blake Gopnik has described as the “world’s greatest sponge,” Coltrane soaked up every aspect of the musical culture around him. His sound was thus shaped by the broader context it was developed in. Ratliff writes:
“One of the most useful and overriding ways to comprehend the arc of Coltrane’s work, one that contains significance for jazz now, is to notice how much he could use what was going on around him in music. He was hawklike toward arrivals to his world, immediately curious about how they could serve his own ends, and how he could serve theirs. Every time a new jazz musician drifted into New York and began impressing people, every time he encountered a musician with a particular technique, system, or theory, every time a new kind of foreign music was being listened to by others in the scene, Coltrane wanted to know about it; he absorbed the foreign bodies, and tried to find a place for them in his own music. He learned as much as he could of the life around him and behind him, and retained only what best suited him, such that you usually couldn’t tell what he had been drinking up.”
Overall, Ratliff’s book is neither biography nor critical study, although it contains elements of both. The chapters about Coltrane’s posthumous legacy fill some important gaps in Lewis Porter’s 1998 biography. If you’re a Coltrane fan, I recommend reading both books in tandem.
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July 8, 2021Not quite a biography but indeed the story of a sound. It's quite interesting. Although it would be good to have some technical knowledge of music, especially on jazz and horns.
July 25, 2022
Partly read at a friend's house while traveling, so I wasn't able to finish it. Ratliff's approach is interesting; he disclaims his book as a true biography. (Pay attention to the title, gentle reader.) I can't say I agree with all of his opinions and conclusions, but certainly generous servings of food for thought are served up in admirable, sometimes well-seasoned phrases.
August 18, 2017
I've read this book several times. I turn to it for musical inspiration and for clarity about one of my favorite musicians. It's well-written, thoroughly researched, and, basically, essential for anyone who's ever given a thought to Coltrane and/or Jazz.
July 25, 2011
Like most people my age, one of my first introductions to jazz was with the music of John Coltrane. Even before I heard his music, I knew his name. Growing up as a child of the 80’s, Coltrane was everywhere in pop culture references. From the decadence and excess of that decade came a vision of jazz that was almost too superficial in some respects. It became “high society” to listen to the music, even if a person didn’t really understand it. Musicians talked about Coltrane constantly…being a big U2 fan, I remember the criticism when they used his name in the lyrics to “Angel of Harlem”: “John Coltrane and A Love Supreme…Miles and she’s got be an Angel”.
More recently, as I’ve been reading African-American philosophy and history, it has slowly become impressed upon me – as someone who wasn’t actually there – just how important Coltrane’s music was to a decade of protest, the drive for equality, and as a statement of indictment against American Imperialism. All of these things can be derived from Coltrane’s SOUND. That’s the main concept of this book. Ben Ratliff does an incredible job of explaining extremely complex jazz theory to the average reader and listener of jazz. Even growing up playing jazz in high school and college, I still consider myself of - at best – having a limited understanding of jazz. I played off of written music, and wasn’t that good at improvisation. Jazz is truly one of the most complex yet free forms of music that exist in our world. Classically trained musicians often have a hard time with jazz because of the FEELING that is required to truly grasp the music. Coltrane understood FEELING and SOUND like no other. Ratliff illustrates how musicians look at Coltrane as having exhausted almost every conceivable form of expression capable of being said musically. His playing was like a conduit to The Higher Power. In many ways, jazz hasn’t been the same since, Ratliff says. There seems to be a period (and I find this true in my own listening habits) during the 50’s and 60’s of when most of the jazz music we value today was recorded. This is when much of the classic quartet jazz sound was made. Coltrane, Miles Davis, McCoy Tyner, Joe Henderson, Sonny Rollins, Thelonious Monk, Dexter Gordon, and countless others all survive today and are revered as almost saintly sounds and recordings when compared to modern jazz artists. There seems to be no one to take Coltrane’s place at the moment, and Ratliff illustrates why at the end of the book. I will not repeat everything the book says here, but if you ever wondered why Coltrane had such an influence, if you ever wanted to know about how he actually achieved the classic sound, or if you ever wondered why it is that you can listen to “A Love Supreme” over and over again and get something new out of it every time, then this is the book to explain it to you.
More recently, as I’ve been reading African-American philosophy and history, it has slowly become impressed upon me – as someone who wasn’t actually there – just how important Coltrane’s music was to a decade of protest, the drive for equality, and as a statement of indictment against American Imperialism. All of these things can be derived from Coltrane’s SOUND. That’s the main concept of this book. Ben Ratliff does an incredible job of explaining extremely complex jazz theory to the average reader and listener of jazz. Even growing up playing jazz in high school and college, I still consider myself of - at best – having a limited understanding of jazz. I played off of written music, and wasn’t that good at improvisation. Jazz is truly one of the most complex yet free forms of music that exist in our world. Classically trained musicians often have a hard time with jazz because of the FEELING that is required to truly grasp the music. Coltrane understood FEELING and SOUND like no other. Ratliff illustrates how musicians look at Coltrane as having exhausted almost every conceivable form of expression capable of being said musically. His playing was like a conduit to The Higher Power. In many ways, jazz hasn’t been the same since, Ratliff says. There seems to be a period (and I find this true in my own listening habits) during the 50’s and 60’s of when most of the jazz music we value today was recorded. This is when much of the classic quartet jazz sound was made. Coltrane, Miles Davis, McCoy Tyner, Joe Henderson, Sonny Rollins, Thelonious Monk, Dexter Gordon, and countless others all survive today and are revered as almost saintly sounds and recordings when compared to modern jazz artists. There seems to be no one to take Coltrane’s place at the moment, and Ratliff illustrates why at the end of the book. I will not repeat everything the book says here, but if you ever wondered why Coltrane had such an influence, if you ever wanted to know about how he actually achieved the classic sound, or if you ever wondered why it is that you can listen to “A Love Supreme” over and over again and get something new out of it every time, then this is the book to explain it to you.
July 4, 2010
This is not amazing prose, but it’s well-researched. I imagine historians and jazzbos alike would be disappointed with this book. But if you’re like me, and love Coltrane because you love the sounds, songs, and playing on his records, then you might like this book. As a jazz music listener outsider, I’d say that this book is a great introduction. As the sub-title of the book claims, it’s the story of sound of Coltrane. Of course, there’s touches of biography, history, cultural trends, and politics, but the real focus is on the development of Coltrane’s music. The author has a skill for summarizing. I liked sentences like this one to open new sections: “John Coltrane tends to be understood in either one of two ways: as the one-many academy of jazz--the king student, the exhaustively precise teacher--or as the great psychic liberator of jazz who rendered the academy obsolete” (117).
Ratliff argues that Coltrane’s drive was more inner-than-outer. Unlike someone like Ornette Coleman, whose album titles showed a self-consciousness of his style and his place in the jazz world (glancing at my record shelf, I see Coleman titles like “This is our Music,” “Free Jazz,” “Change of the Century,” “The Art of the Improvisers”), Coltrane did not set out to revolutionize the genre every couple of years (which he managed to do anyway). Indeed, glancing at the Coltrane album titles on my record shelf, I see such titles as “Mediation,” “Ascension,” “A Love Supreme,” and “Expression”. Of course, the exception is Coltrane’s album “Giant Steps,” which refers to both the modal theory in the songs on that album, as well as the new direction the album anticipated. But mostly, Coltrane was pushed by a need to play and to express, which in his later years developed into a vague spirituality.
Ratliff also points out that Coltrane contributed to the culture of jazz by embracing his teamwork-spirit playing and his welcoming of all kinds of players in his performances. Certainly, when contrasted with Miles Davis, you see Coltrane as a selfless player. Having read the first chapters of Miles’ biography, I learned quickly that he’s one arrogant dude (and his poses on his 80’s albums certainly convey this!). It’s interesting, because on the one hand, jazz has always been about boastful players, taking the muscial form of the solo. But it’s also about the group, and thanks in part to Coltrane (and Coleman, and others), free jazz has taken that notion to a radical extent. For that reason, it seems appreciation for Coltrane is often polarized--jazzbos loving the solo-laden ballads, punks like myself loving the all-hands-on-deck noise-making...
Ratliff argues that Coltrane’s drive was more inner-than-outer. Unlike someone like Ornette Coleman, whose album titles showed a self-consciousness of his style and his place in the jazz world (glancing at my record shelf, I see Coleman titles like “This is our Music,” “Free Jazz,” “Change of the Century,” “The Art of the Improvisers”), Coltrane did not set out to revolutionize the genre every couple of years (which he managed to do anyway). Indeed, glancing at the Coltrane album titles on my record shelf, I see such titles as “Mediation,” “Ascension,” “A Love Supreme,” and “Expression”. Of course, the exception is Coltrane’s album “Giant Steps,” which refers to both the modal theory in the songs on that album, as well as the new direction the album anticipated. But mostly, Coltrane was pushed by a need to play and to express, which in his later years developed into a vague spirituality.
Ratliff also points out that Coltrane contributed to the culture of jazz by embracing his teamwork-spirit playing and his welcoming of all kinds of players in his performances. Certainly, when contrasted with Miles Davis, you see Coltrane as a selfless player. Having read the first chapters of Miles’ biography, I learned quickly that he’s one arrogant dude (and his poses on his 80’s albums certainly convey this!). It’s interesting, because on the one hand, jazz has always been about boastful players, taking the muscial form of the solo. But it’s also about the group, and thanks in part to Coltrane (and Coleman, and others), free jazz has taken that notion to a radical extent. For that reason, it seems appreciation for Coltrane is often polarized--jazzbos loving the solo-laden ballads, punks like myself loving the all-hands-on-deck noise-making...
September 24, 2016
This is a book directed at musicians and those people who have a working knowledge of some music theory. You could read this without knowing sharp from flat, but it helps to have a fair amount of background knowledge to appreciate Coltrane (the book).
There is some really good stuff in here. Ratliff does an excellent job explaining the difference between normal 32 bar tunes with standard chord changes vs. modal music. For example, in a normal tune, the chord will stay the same for the given length of time and the musician will improvise within that particular chord. This restricts the solo to the notes within that chord. One must change chords to escape the eventual limitations. As Miles Davis said: " When you're based on chords, you know at the end of 32 bars that the chords have run out and there's nothing to do but repeat what you've just done-with variations." Playing within a mode however means the musician simply stays within a particular key-say F major for example. Ratliff observes: "Not having to move so quickly through new chords helped the players improvise more calmly, and, one hoped, more soulfully." That's a pithy observation, and I agree.
"Giant Steps" is an excellent example. Ratliff again: "...it calls for a new chord on every other beat; the descending chord sequences are related by distances of a major third, which makes the piece effectively change keys three times within four bars. These are the 'giant steps' the title refers to." I know the tune obviously, but now I understand better what Coltrane was trying to do within the tune.
While there are lots of interesting (to a musician anyway) observations, the final chapters are marred by too much sucking up to Wynton Marsalis. I'm not overly impressed with Wynton and the book spends too much time on him while overlooking others. Still, a really nice dive into a very important and complex artist (Coltrane, that is) and what made him such an important artist.
There is some really good stuff in here. Ratliff does an excellent job explaining the difference between normal 32 bar tunes with standard chord changes vs. modal music. For example, in a normal tune, the chord will stay the same for the given length of time and the musician will improvise within that particular chord. This restricts the solo to the notes within that chord. One must change chords to escape the eventual limitations. As Miles Davis said: " When you're based on chords, you know at the end of 32 bars that the chords have run out and there's nothing to do but repeat what you've just done-with variations." Playing within a mode however means the musician simply stays within a particular key-say F major for example. Ratliff observes: "Not having to move so quickly through new chords helped the players improvise more calmly, and, one hoped, more soulfully." That's a pithy observation, and I agree.
"Giant Steps" is an excellent example. Ratliff again: "...it calls for a new chord on every other beat; the descending chord sequences are related by distances of a major third, which makes the piece effectively change keys three times within four bars. These are the 'giant steps' the title refers to." I know the tune obviously, but now I understand better what Coltrane was trying to do within the tune.
While there are lots of interesting (to a musician anyway) observations, the final chapters are marred by too much sucking up to Wynton Marsalis. I'm not overly impressed with Wynton and the book spends too much time on him while overlooking others. Still, a really nice dive into a very important and complex artist (Coltrane, that is) and what made him such an important artist.
March 4, 2014
This book should be read with the music of John William Coltrane the great American Jazz saxophonist and composer
.
"Trane" was an ambassador of the Bepop and Hard Pop, he was also famous for his improvisation, the abc of the jazz music, the use of "musical modes" rather than chord progression as a harmonic framework.
His life was not exemplary, he was a drug addict and alcoholic, this was the first step, for discovering his hidden spirituality.
His first wife was Yuanita Naima Grubbs, after a brief period, he decided to divorce from her for unknown reasons.
This woman influenced Coltrane on Islam and the Indian Philosophy.
The spirituality was extremely important for him, it was a tool for escaping from drugs and alcohol.
This negative experiences were a source of inspiration for a famous album called "Spirituality".
According to Ben Ratliff "OM is a verdict mantra meant to suggest the sound made at the moment when God created the world" (Coltrane, Ben Ratliff)
Personally I think that an artist a painter or a musician must find his/her source of inspiration not on drugs or alchool but on something of completely different, which is clearly against his/her self destruction.
Trane was not only a musician but he read books of every kind, like astrology, science, mathematics and so on.
Coltrane was also a philosopher, he was looking for the truth and the soul.
His musical life was not only spiritual, but he wrote an album where he translated into musical notes his anger for the bombing of a church in Montgomery in Alabama.
He was also proud of his culture, he was a staunch black, and the best mood to express himself and his people was the jazz.
In conclusion this is an intimate biography, full of details, friendship and you will appreciate a poem dedicated to him.
.
"Trane" was an ambassador of the Bepop and Hard Pop, he was also famous for his improvisation, the abc of the jazz music, the use of "musical modes" rather than chord progression as a harmonic framework.
His life was not exemplary, he was a drug addict and alcoholic, this was the first step, for discovering his hidden spirituality.
His first wife was Yuanita Naima Grubbs, after a brief period, he decided to divorce from her for unknown reasons.
This woman influenced Coltrane on Islam and the Indian Philosophy.
The spirituality was extremely important for him, it was a tool for escaping from drugs and alcohol.
This negative experiences were a source of inspiration for a famous album called "Spirituality".
According to Ben Ratliff "OM is a verdict mantra meant to suggest the sound made at the moment when God created the world" (Coltrane, Ben Ratliff)
Personally I think that an artist a painter or a musician must find his/her source of inspiration not on drugs or alchool but on something of completely different, which is clearly against his/her self destruction.
Trane was not only a musician but he read books of every kind, like astrology, science, mathematics and so on.
Coltrane was also a philosopher, he was looking for the truth and the soul.
His musical life was not only spiritual, but he wrote an album where he translated into musical notes his anger for the bombing of a church in Montgomery in Alabama.
He was also proud of his culture, he was a staunch black, and the best mood to express himself and his people was the jazz.
In conclusion this is an intimate biography, full of details, friendship and you will appreciate a poem dedicated to him.
April 12, 2019
In comparison with the other Coltrane book that I recently read, Ascension, this was much more coherent and focused. The author didn't overwhelm the book with his personal opinion, and I can appreciate that. Gaining a perspective on just how dominant Coltrane's influence has been on jazz was cool.
February 16, 2008
I loved this book! I am a jazz neophyte and picked up the bok to learn more. It didn't look scary - the book's not too thick, the type a reasonable size. Ultimately, I did need to look up a few words as my vocabulary has shrunk since my last vocab test - but I really enjoyed this book. I used wikipedia for information since the book picks up at a pivotal moment in jazz - after bebop, before hard bop, to free jazz, and to modern times. I needed to research context a bit before I could wrap my head around the times and enjoyed the book a great deal when I did.
It's rare for a book to focus on an artist's creative output in their life, then examine the impact as the work rolled out and it's reverberations through it's industry after the artist finishes produces. As I work with creatives but am not a creative myself, I truly enjoyed this book's differences from the traditional biography, placing it's emphasis and study of the work. Work can get lost in an artist's life and industry hyperbole (Ratliff says as much) so you got to know Coltrane as a person, not quite an artist and what others thought of him - Ratliff uses John's own quotes about his life and work.
For anyone who has a little time to research and enjoy jazz, I recommend this book highly!
It's rare for a book to focus on an artist's creative output in their life, then examine the impact as the work rolled out and it's reverberations through it's industry after the artist finishes produces. As I work with creatives but am not a creative myself, I truly enjoyed this book's differences from the traditional biography, placing it's emphasis and study of the work. Work can get lost in an artist's life and industry hyperbole (Ratliff says as much) so you got to know Coltrane as a person, not quite an artist and what others thought of him - Ratliff uses John's own quotes about his life and work.
For anyone who has a little time to research and enjoy jazz, I recommend this book highly!
September 22, 2013
I have been somewhat obsessed with Coltrane's music for nigh on 30 years now. There was many a night in my university flat where I subjected my very tolerant flatmates to Coltrane's version of "My Favorite Things"!
This book proved insightful, I have never sought to read a biography of Coltrane, thought I am sure I will one day, but I found this book helpful in adding some "meaning" to my appreciation of Coltrane's music. I have no formal musical training or education and no real understanding of the technicalities of music, I just know what I like and listen to it, so parts of this book proved a bit challenging, but the value lies in how it tries to explain the form of the music. It also helped to reference the interconnectedness of the jazz (read "Music") world, the useful band family trees and relationships are vital to understanding Jazz's trajectory. An excellent and highly recommended read for anyone remotely interested in Coltrane or jazz.
This book proved insightful, I have never sought to read a biography of Coltrane, thought I am sure I will one day, but I found this book helpful in adding some "meaning" to my appreciation of Coltrane's music. I have no formal musical training or education and no real understanding of the technicalities of music, I just know what I like and listen to it, so parts of this book proved a bit challenging, but the value lies in how it tries to explain the form of the music. It also helped to reference the interconnectedness of the jazz (read "Music") world, the useful band family trees and relationships are vital to understanding Jazz's trajectory. An excellent and highly recommended read for anyone remotely interested in Coltrane or jazz.
March 28, 2016
This is an excellent book however, because it does exactly what the story states, it leaves you wanting more. Ben Ratliff knows a thing or two about jazz and spends the entire book exploring both Coltrane's sound and the influence of his sound. He certainly doesn't feel the need to give many biographical details, even where it might pertain to the music. There also isn't a lot of talk with his former band leaders. What did Davis or Monk think of his playing? How did Davis deal with Coltrane's more adventurous playing during their later years together? You'll have to turn elsewhere to find the answer to those questions.
As much as I enjoyed this book, and I truly did, I want more. Coltrane's spirituality played a huge part in his music. At least I think it did but I don't know how. I'm not even sure what religions he followed or explored after reading the bio.
A great book but because it does what the title says you'll have to seek some outside sources for more information.
As much as I enjoyed this book, and I truly did, I want more. Coltrane's spirituality played a huge part in his music. At least I think it did but I don't know how. I'm not even sure what religions he followed or explored after reading the bio.
A great book but because it does what the title says you'll have to seek some outside sources for more information.
May 20, 2014
So much Coltrane criticism veers toward either hagiographic hyperbole on one end or academic sleepy times on the other. Ratliff cuts a clean middle path. In doing so he manages to critically address not only the music but the greater Coltrane legacy without getting tripped up in the redundant bickering that has so often characterized writing on the saxophonist's work. Really, the best thing I got out of reading this book was an introduction to a Coltrane record I somehow missed- 1964's Crescent. I'm kind of puzzled as to how I never came across this album before. As you might expect it kind of bridges the gap between his early 60's records like Africa/Brass and Ole and later free jazz stuff like Interstellar Space. I've been listening to it almost every day for the past few weeks and recommend it far out in front of any book written on Coltrane or just about anything else.
September 11, 2011
I'm torn about my star rating for this review. The book is very well written and probably not intended for someone like me. I'm not a musician, nor an intellectual and I felt at times like I was in over my head when reading this book. Mr. Ratliff attempts to delve into what John Coltrane was trying to achieve through his music. I'm sure he researched extensively and there are several interview excerpts peppered throughout, but in the end, it all feels a bit like a science experiment. While I enjoyed parts, overall I don't feel I took much away from the experience. Again, this is not a knock on Mr. Ratliff's talents, he's obviously a gifted writer and someone with a musical background would very likely come away with a different experience. If you are looking for a Coltrane biography however, look elsewhere. This one's more about the music, than the man.
December 9, 2011
It's a bit disconcerting to read a book about jazz written by a guy who is roughly the same age as myself (Mr. Ratliff was born in 1968), as most people my age don't listen to jazz very much, if at all. Ben Ratliff is a reporter for the New York Times, however, and fully lives up to the standard which that implies. I have read several books about John Coltrane, and this one is easily the best. It is both thorough enough for the musician or serious scholar of jazz not to lose interest, but still accessible enough not to bore the general reading public. Holding that balance is not an easy task generally speaking when writing about music & musicians, and is especially difficult with a subject of Coltrane's stature and complexity. Mr. Ratliff has done an excellent job of writing in this work, and I would recommend it over all the other books on the life & music of John Coltrane.
April 18, 2016
This was both a wonderful book and a tedious book to read. The details on music theory were onerous, but there were many interesting bits about Coltrane, his study of literature, art, politics, philosophy, astronomy, current events, and how they helped form his music and the direction his performances went. I also enjoyed seeing how his music influenced the hundreds of jazz musicians that have performed since. Nearly every musician - pop, jazz, rock - can trace his influence. His music has a visceral effect on all who hear it, and he remains a major influence today. His music unified "...free jazz and straight-ahead jazz -- Lower East SIde, post-hippie, ragged blow-out jams, and Branford Marsalis..."
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