1990. 14th Street, NYC
one afternoon when no one was home i put on john coltrane’s “love supreme”. it was sitting
in front of the stack of records by the stereo. it belonged to my roommate. i’d heard that it
was an amazing album. it had a cool cover
i wasn’t into jazz at that point. i’d heard some things that i’d sort of liked, but i still didn’t quite
get it. hadn’t acquired a taste for it.
the windows to 14th street were open. the sound of new york filled the room; traffic, sirens,
voices. i turned the stereo up and sat on the ledge.
the music had a hypnotic quality. i felt like i was entering into it – or it was entering into me –
in a way i hadn’t experienced before.
when the album was over i sat there for a while, looking down at the street. still in a trance.
thinking: “so this is what great jazz is like”