Noise, Unity, and the Cry for Spiritual Freedom

Coltrane’s Ascension

In mid-1965, John Coltrane was at the peak of his career. His album A Love Supreme had earned critical acclaim and commercial success, yet rather than resting on these achievements, Coltrane was already pushing into new musical territory. His sound grew increasingly aggressive and exploratory, moving toward free jazz.

Coltrane had befriended younger avant-garde pioneers, notably saxophonist Albert Ayler, whose free improvisations deeply influenced his approach. He also mentored emerging "New Thing" players like Archie Shepp, Pharoah Sanders, and Marion Brown, who would join him on Ascension. With his established reputation, Coltrane was uniquely positioned to bring radical music to a broader jazz audience.

Several factors inspired Ascension. After the apparent summation of A Love Supreme, Coltrane was determined not to stagnate. The album represented a deliberate break from convention and the small-group format he had mastered. He drew inspiration from Ornette Coleman's 1960 free-jazz opus Free Jazz, which featured a large ensemble improvising collectively. Coltrane was also influenced by Sun Ra and Cecil Taylor's innovations in group improvisation.

Spiritually, Coltrane's vision fueled his leap into uncharted soundscapes. The album's title suggests an upward journey or spiritual rising. His philosophy was clear: "There is never any end... There are always new sounds to imagine, new feelings to get at." This drive to seek "new sounds" and higher purity of expression was central to Ascension's creation.

Ascension was recorded in a single session on June 28, 1965, at Rudy Van Gelder's studio in Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey. Produced by Bob Thiele at Impulse! Records, the session was entirely unrehearsed. Musicians arrived without prior run-throughs, and Coltrane simply handed out brief lead sheets at the start.

Despite the lack of rehearsal, Coltrane had a plan. The ensemble passages were based on optional chords, while solo sections were completely free over rhythm section support. He provided a unison theme for ensemble passages and choreographed dynamic swells after each solo to give the piece dramatic shape.

The ensemble was unprecedented in Coltrane's career - effectively a mini free-jazz big band:

Saxophones:

• John Coltrane (tenor, leader)

• Pharoah Sanders (tenor)

• Archie Shepp (tenor)

• John Tchicai (alto)

• Marion Brown (alto)

Trumpets:

• Freddie Hubbard

• Dewey Johnson

Rhythm Section:

• McCoy Tyner (piano)

• Jimmy Garrison (bass)

• Art Davis (bass)

• Elvin Jones (drums)

This diverse 11-piece unit ranged from hard-bop veterans to cutting-edge experimentalists, embodying Coltrane's idea of musical community.

The session yielded two complete takes, each around 38-40 minutes long, of the continuous piece. These were unbroken improvisational journeys from beginning to end. The atmosphere was intense and electrifying. Marion Brown described it as "wildly exciting," noting that people in the studio were screaming with excitement.

After the second take, drummer Elvin Jones reportedly flung his snare drum at the studio wall, frustrated or exhausted by the chaos. Other participants were exhilarated. John Tchicai recalled the day in mystical terms: "It was a feast, incomparable... It was very African! Our Ancestors were definitely among us."

Impulse! initially released the second take in February 1966 (Edition I), but Coltrane later preferred the first take (Edition II). The label reissued the album with the alternate take, creating two versions with subtle differences in solo order and content. Modern reissues include both takes.

Ascension is essentially a single, continuous 40-minute composition structured as alternating ensemble passages and individual solos. Unlike Ornette Coleman's Free Jazz, which featured mostly continuous group interplay, Coltrane organized clear sections where the full ensemble plays together, then yields to feature one soloist, then returns to full ensemble.

Each of the eleven musicians gets a solo turn, typically 2-3 minutes each, separated by turbulent ensemble "blow-outs." The result is an alternating pattern: solo - ensemble - solo - ensemble, culminating in a final all-out ensemble crescendo.

Ascension didn't use traditional chord progressions. Instead, it was built on a modal framework using predetermined tonal centers as launching pads for improvisation. The piece employs three primary modes (Bb Aeolian, D Phrygian, and F Phrygian), with mode changes signaled throughout the performance.

The piece opens with horns briefly stating a theme that echoes the A Love Supreme "Acknowledgement" riff, but this quickly gives way to improvisation. Simple descending scale patterns establish each modal area, acting as cues and anchors before the group spirals off again.

The ensemble sections represent Ascension's most radical ideas. Instead of traditional harmony, the focus is on texture, density, and energy. When seven horn players improvise simultaneously, the result is a wall of sound - overlapping cries, runs, and riffs creating "dense sound complexes."

Individual melodies lose distinction and fuse into "rapidly moving sound-fields." The rhythm section provides frantic pulse from beneath while horns create a thick polyphonic cloud on top. This approach prioritized the overall sonic impression over any individual instrument's phrase.

Within this framework, each member's solo provides contrast and personality. Coltrane democratized the structure, giving himself no more solo time than anyone else. Some musicians approached solos motifically (like John Tchicai), while others took a more expressionist route (Pharoah Sanders and Archie Shepp) using extended techniques like shrieks and overtone screams.

Ascension provoked intense reactions upon its 1966 release. Impulse attorney Alan S. Bergman told me was stunned after hearing five minutes, while producer Bob Thiele predicted it would be "a classic." Many recognized it as a turning point in jazz history.

Saxophonist Dave Liebman called it "the torch that lit the free-jazz thing," noting it had more effect than A Love Supreme. However, many listeners found it incomprehensible. Even some Coltrane fans couldn't follow him into this terrain, with audiences walking out of concerts featuring the new music.

Critics were divided. Forward-thinking reviewers like Bill Mathieu called it "possibly the most powerful human sound ever recorded," while others found it alienating. The album tested the limits of what was recognized as "jazz."

Over decades, Ascension's reputation evolved from notorious to illustrious. What was once considered unlistenable has been reappraised as a landmark. Critics like Gary Giddins noted that despite its fearsome reputation, "the piece goes down as smooth as bourbon" after multiple listens.

Many later reviewers found that apparent disorder contained deep feeling and intent. What initially sounded like anger and discord was recognized as spirituality and unification. The album is now seen as emancipating music that challenges while it educates.

Ascension's impact rippled widely through jazz and avant-garde communities. European free-jazz players like Peter Brötzmann drew inspiration for works like Machine Gun. The Chicago-based AACM pursued similar ideals of collective texture. The album's ethos influenced experimental rock and modern classical music, including Glenn Branca's guitar symphonies.

Ascension has been repeatedly revisited and re-performed, with groups like the Rova Saxophone Quartet treating it as repertoire to be interpreted. This highlights its status as both historic improvisation and composed work.

For Coltrane's legacy, Ascension marked a watershed between his structured quartet recordings and the free jazz works that followed. It heralded his final period of experimentation until his 1967 death. The album's initial controversy became part of his mythos, exemplifying his fearless commitment to artistic evolution.

If A Love Supreme showed Coltrane's ability to channel spirituality into accessible form, Ascension showed his willingness to shatter form entirely to reach higher expression. Today it's seen as an essential statement of his vision that music could express "spiritual unity" through sound.

Ascension remains a challenging but rewarding listening experience - a fierce, communal prayer in sound that continues to beckon those willing to "ascend" with Coltrane to jazz's outer limits. Over half a century later, it stands as both an icon of 1960s radicalism and a masterpiece that transcends its era.