When you learning why something is held so, you can come to appreciate in a way you hadn’t before. For me, Giant Steps started with learning why it was amazing. Or at least the song Giant Steps did. Vox had done a great video breaking down the insanity of the song. They call it ‘the most feared song in jazz’. I’m not a musician, let alone a jazz player. But that sounded like a mighty label for a song to hold.
I had to check out the album, of course. And it is something else. I was in love with it from the start. It’s such a colourful album, full of movement and life. Something I appreciate about jazz is how simple the instrumentation is. Coltrane is, of course, on saxophone. And all that accompanies him is a piano, a bass and the drums. The whole album is just an incredible conversation between these four instruments. The bass and drums feel ever present, laying the ground for the sax and piano to take the spotlight. But sometimes there are moments where the music becomes quiet and the bass takes the stage. And you have to pay attention or you might miss where the one player takes a step back and before you know it you’re immersed in a whole different part of the song. It’s a conversation, the sax and the piano are constantly in dialogue with each other.
The album begins with the titular song, Giant Steps. And from the start, the album is going! It’s fast passed, jumps around. It’s vibrant. Coltrane on the saxophone just feels like he is going for it. And the band is along for the ride. If you’ve watched the Vox video, you’ll know that the pianist, Tommy Flanagan, is playing this song for the first time. It adds to this feeling, that it’s not just a ride, it’s Coltrane’s ride and you and everyone else are coming along. Everything feels fast, energised. It’s like the first sip of a soft drink and all the carbonation almost overwhelms the senses. You struggle to hold on, but then the song comes to an end with the chorus, and you feel like you’ve returned home.
Cousin Mary steps back a bit from the previous track. That’s not to say this song isn’t here to show what’s what. Giant Steps was the opening act, saying ‘Hey, you. Check this out,’ and Cousin Mary follows to show what this album does best. Beautiful interplay between the band, flawlessly moving from one player to the next. And then we’re into Countdown. The song starts with a fantastic drum solo, and then the sax comes in and boom we’re going. The song is absolutely full of energy. And is so fast and complex within such a short song that you can almost miss it. But Coltrane is just a master of his domain in this song, you need to take a moment in the song to realise how insane Coltrane’s playing is. But before you know it the song is over.
And then Spiral marks the midpoint of the album. A fitting title for the song, which features a lovely, twisting saxophone melody. Coltrane really takes the lead in this song. The piano coming up behind it to flesh out this song, until about half way through where it takes the stage. This becomes obvious as a recurring theme throughout the album — start with the sax, then let the piano come out to play. And then let the bass take the limelight for a bit before bringing everyone back together. Syeeda’s Song Flute follows Spiral and aherers to its formula. Begining with Coltrane taking the stage, dominating the song with a vibrant saxophone melody before, like it was never there, the saxophone disappears and the piano takes front and centre. And then the piano takes a step back, giving the stage to the bassist. A winding bass solo goes and goes, snaking along, and you are fully content to let the bass until the last minute of the song when Coltrane jumps back in, and the song is full of life once more.Both Spiral and Syeeda’s Song Flute are great examples of the conversation occurring between the players within the album. There’s a natural flow from one instrument to the other. One part of the song seamlessly bleeds into the other, it feels like all the parts of the song are talking to each other, working together to let every instrument have a moment to shine.
Naima, oh man. This song just feels like warmth on a rainy day. This song just feels like everything you think jazz is. The song is just backed by a gorgeously simple baseline, allowing the song to begin with an incredible hook from Coltrane, before the piano can come in. The result is, unlike the first half of this album, calm, warm, encompassing. And then, bang! Mr. P.C. begins and it’s just so different but so needed. It’s like a jolt of energy bursting through you just as you start to feel comfortable and content to lay down and listen. The bass and the sax just dance around each other. You can’t help but want to move to this. It really feels like the opposite of Naima, but it works. And the whole band is out to play in this one, even the drummer getting the spotlight. It’s a beautiful way to end an album, a celebration.
The album is quite short, I suppose by modern standards. At 37 minutes long, it feels tragically short, you just want more from the band. But what it means is there’s no filler, no fucking around. When the album finishes it leaves you satisfied but wanting more. But I’m glad there isn’t more. Because anything else has the chance to tar what is a perfect album. Giant Steps is just that, too. It’s perfect.
