John Coltrane’s Unearthed Live ‘A Love Supreme’ and 12 More New Songs

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When John Coltrane recorded his masterpiece “A Love Supreme” in late 1964, he was demanding an escape from the confines of modern jazz. He was improvising on pitch as well as sheet music, and was already bringing in new, freer collaborators to join his quartet. Partly because of this change, and partly because of how intimate the piece made him feel, he barely played “A Love Supreme” live. But this week Impulse! Registrations announced The existence of a 56-year-old tape in Seattle in the fall of 1965 in which the quartet performed the suite with an expanded version. This is the only recording Coltrane is known to have played for a club listener, and the full album will be released on October 8. The calm finale of the suite and the only publicly available piece so far, “Psalm,” is the most personal part. : Coltrane had set the “Psalm” melody to the rhythm of a eulogy he had written and played it in Seattle without any of the other two saxophonists in that evening’s orchestra. More than an hour later, as the energy of the set envelops the scene, he transforms bits of the melody into little spells and a deep-belly screaming from his horn. GIOVANNI RUSSONELLO

SZA released a trio of intimate songs on SoundCloud this week, perhaps as a placeholder before their next album. In “Nightbird” the mood is poisonous and the singing is flexible. Building on the melodic structures of 1990s R&B, SZA has a clear and unpretentious way of relating highly complex emotional experiences, adding some of the sonic distance built into the genre over the past decade. “Nightbird” is both offhand and devastating, among his best. JON CARAMANICA

“Rolling Through California” has a quivering, country spirit that alludes to the late 1960s San Francisco of Creedence Clearwater Revival and the Grateful Dead, all of which are endearing and radiant. But Fantastic Negrito, over which Miko Marks’ bluish laugh harmonizes, tells how the old California dream led to wildfires and epidemics; stamping their feet, the choir says, “Can you hear the sound/It’s burning on the ground”. JON PARELES

This “To-Do List” starts with day-to-day chores – “Go to the bank and deposit the checks” – but quickly, haphazardly and spectacularly progresses towards greater goals: “Defie all laws of nature”, “Declare lasting peace”, “Permanent peace” declare a peace”. Miraculous medicine.” True to the band’s provincial New York location, the Felice Brothers return to the Band with hand-played instruments and a chirpy beat, turning honky-tonk existentialism upside down.

Listen to the mechanical beat of drums and ultra-sensitive webs of twin guitars in “Ain’t No Use,” an unrequited love song, “There’s no use talking to you about love.” It’s a scrapped track from Randy Travis’ 1986 album “Storms of Life,” and even with Travis’ chatty vocals, it also heralds the future of computerized country. PARELES

“Someone is cooking with my spices!” In “Plant Thief,” Satomi Matsuzaki complains: the only reason the song has drums and bass and guitar staggering in stereo, grappling with ever-changing beats. The song starts out wild and evolves from there, putting together and discarding discordant patterns, changing the counters, and coming to a very open-ended conclusion: “They were never like that!” she is singing. PARELES

No influence on the Grammy-winning pen of Terence Blanchard, a respected jazz trumpeter known for his Spike Lee soundtracks, could be greater than that of saxophonist Wayne Shorter, with his succinct yet visionary compositions. The trumpet player visits with a few seldom-covered Shorter jewels on his new album, “Absence,” which pays homage to Shorter. Blanchard’s version of the cloud-dwelling ballad “Diana” opens with the strings of the Turtle Island Quartet (along “Absence”) entering one by one; eventually his quintet, E-Kolektif, takes over. Swaddled with synthesizers and trumpet effects, avoiding a hard beat, Blanchard enjoys every unorthodox harmonic gain without the need for soloing. Russonello

at “999” Selena Gomez compete with Camilo for whom he can whisper-sing more quietly. Their voices in harmony and dialogue share a duet about passion, distance and expectation: “I don’t have a photo with you, but there is a hole on the wall.” It’s tuned to a sneaky bass line and percussion that won’t wake the neighbors up, enjoy teasing, buildup, and a nearly extinct 21st-century experience: privacy. PARELES

A new day, a new flow for Lil Baby in this collaboration with Detroit’s favorite Icewear Vezzo. Lil Baby, who rapped first, leaned on the short sticks, tightening his flow until it was tense: “I didn’t do it/I stayed at the Governor’s mansion/I found another way to debut”. When Icewear Vezzo arrives, the fog lifts very lightly – the subject is the same, but the flow is dancing and trembling.

Umu Obiligbo, a Nigerian sibling duo, shares close harmonies with ever-evolving tandem guitars and choral harmonies on their band’s stunning six-beat, two-chord electroacoustic groove – Nigerian highlife. Most of the lyrics are in Nigerian Igbo, but the English look is sharp: “What a man can do, a woman can do it better.” PARELES

Bassist, singer and songwriter Esperanza Spalding brought together not only musicians but also experts in neuroscience and psychology, among other fields. healing songs For the album “Songwrights Apothecary Lab” dated September 24. “Formwela 10” an apology for mistreating a lover: “I made you hell/This is one way to clear up the harms, I won’t do it any other way”; it is also a bouncing, twisting, syncopated melody, a chromatic chatter, and a measure-shifting arrangement that melts and realigns around it as it reconciles with its regrets. PARELES

Mary Lattimore’s music has a strong simplicity. The delicate beats of a harp and the hum of a synth are all the headboard uses in “We Wave from Our Boats,” a four-minute meditation in an arrangement that reflects the quality of the water: waves of plucked strings flow over each other. like waves crashing on the shore. But there is also a kind of intimate intimacy in the song. Beneath the seabed there is a glimmer of intimacy: perhaps an after-dinner drink among friends, a tender hug, a heart-warming laugh. ISABELIA HERRERA

There are breakup songs that express the deep sadness of the end of a relationship. There are also songs like “Anymore” from Nite Jewel’s new album “No Sun” that explore the more sinister feelings of the ending. Their brilliant synths and divine harmonies belie the song’s true content: “I can’t describe anything I want,” says producer and vocalist Ramona Gonzalez. “I can no longer trust my desire.” It’s a song about the uncertainty and alienation of a separation: the feeling of not being able to recognize yourself anymore, of not trusting your own desires to find a way forward. HERRERA

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