Here is a post for all my Etta James-rocking, Maker's Mark-sipping, "Pull your pants up!" people. The ones who send me e-mails reminding me to Be A Credit To My Race, put on a tie, and stop using so much foul language ("This is The Atlantic, young man!"). Seriously, I love you all. No sarcasm there, it really does take a village.
Anyway, I'm writing today, reworking a feature for the magazine. I don't know much about jazz but I do have this Three-CD Retrospective of John Coltrane's stuff on Impulse and I kinda love it. I only say kinda because I don't know what I'm listening to, and whether, or why, it's good. But "Greensleeves," "Spiritual," "Chasin' The Trane," and "Afro Blue," are killer. To put this in the language of my folks, Coltrane comes on at the end of "Afro Blue" and just rips shit. It's like listening to Kane back in the day drop that last verse of "Symphony"--except I can write while listening.
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