Chicapah This John Coltrane album is an average one for him. By that I mean it is excellent because the man was one of the finest horn players of all time and he just didn’t record substandard material. The sessions were held in October of 1960 but didn’t see the light of day until June of 1964 because he’d switched record labels soon after taping these songs and Atlantic didn’t bother to commit them to vinyl until Coltrane’s rising popularity in the early 60s made it profitable for them to put it out. Since they owned the rights to the album they didn’t need his permission so it was a no-brainer move and, besides, the music he and his trio of sidekicks created is so good that it would’ve been a travesty to withhold it from his fans and the world at large.

John certainly kept high-caliber company. The musicians that took part in this endeavor were none other than McCoy Tyner on piano, Elvin Jones on drums and Steve Davis on double bass. That lineup alone should tell you volumes about what “Coltrane’s Sound” contains. It’s such a pleasure to hear gifted artists working in harmony to produce the finest music they can.

They begin with the jazz classic written by Jerry Brainin and Buddy Bernier, “The Night Has a Thousand Eyes” (not to be confused with the ‘63 pop hit of the same name by Bobby Vee). What can I say except to expect to be blown away by a plethora of amazing saxophone thrills emanating from Coltrane as he runs freely over the tight combo of piano, drums and bass. McCoy’s piano ride is equally inspiring but there’s something about John’s style that holds me in a unique spell. “Central Park West” is like a peaceful stroll under what I envision to be a cool Autumn sky in New York. Both Coltrane and Tyner give off the same relaxed vibe and you’ll never hear a more gorgeous piece than this. They follow that with “Liberia.” An unusual rhythm pattern from Elvin in the opening makes for an ethereal aura but then they lock into a fast-paced jaunt wherein the quartet performs like a well-oiled but abstract machine. McCoy’s suspensions on the keys add tense dynamics to the tune and it’s downright fascinating to hear how he and John interact instinctively.

On “Body and Soul” Jones and Davis coast smoothly under the complex melody and its corresponding chord progression and, in the process, offer a beautiful contrast for your ears to ponder. I can’t say enough about the delicious piano excursions that Tyner takes the listener on. And Coltrane? Well he’s just being John here. ‘Nuff said. Fittingly, there’s a lush tropical climate established for “Equinox” by McCoy, Elvin and Steve that instantly turns the room warm and humid. It’s a number totally unlike anything else on the disc. Coltrane’s saxophone is so expressive it’s like he’s singing through it and Tyner’s touch is delicate yet never fragile. The song in its entirety is a step out of ordinary existence into a dimension of sultry exotica. McCoy’s piano disappears for “Satellite,” a tune in which John vamps over a taut groove. Here Jones really gets to improvise and get creative with his accentuations delivered in conjunction with Coltrane’s melodic explorations. Davis’ bass does an exemplary job of keeping up with both of their ever-changing moods.

“26-2” is a bonus track from the same sessions. Elvin and Steve shuffle along below what sounds like a stream-of-thought rant by John in which he never repeats the same lick twice. Tyner is once again superb as he dives into and soars across the keyboard. The real surprise is toward the end when Coltrane comes back in on a soprano sax. It’ll give you goose bumps. An alternate take of “Body and Soul” ends the album. It’s more traditional in approach than the earlier version, not nearly as wild. I get the sense that they were just warming up and the tape was running. However, it’s no dog.

“Coltrane’s Sound” is just splendid jazz music and nothing else needs to be added to that assessment. I will add that recordings like this one point out the fact that the improvements in home hi-fi equipment in that era really worked in jazz music’s favor. The studio engineers were able to capture the essence of small bands like John’s clearly because there was no need for overdubs or technical effects to get in the way of the music and that honesty translated well when reproduced in living rooms all across the planet. Half a century has passed and now we listen to the likes of Coltrane on tiny Ipods but that uncorrupted purity still comes across without hindrance.