- Ayin 4: Unspoke’s Requiem*
it is 1967 in a club in Seattle, or New York, or where there is music it is now, right now, with the record playing it is tomorrow = our only question :: “Dearly Beloved” churchical McCoy twin fisted bellwether fluted harbinger of a time that is no time time’s suspension not its end (a change to come ((wait)) listening was now their only prayer, their faithful observance Questions are for later and for us:
what when, what we spoke of blackness spoke of speaking spoke of speaking truth spoke of false witness the record spins who asked “what do we speak of speech and speech’s unsaid?”
she is at the window at the door at the podium she adjusts her hair, her attitude Elvin crashes a cymbal air brakes hiss somewhere “Sun Ship” if it was a record Jimmy’s bass moves them, us or the record changes incongruous fado : diaphanous saudade inescapable or unlimited
only seems
what then or what them what yearning or what movement [End Page 327] asked again about blackness, about freedom asked again the infinite question of love what was desired in desire constitutively unthought the sound filled their space their time the spaces between them spaces gave them a them : spoke of the them they felt they could see him, that he belonged to their they:
fragile strength of a gingerbread boy asked of soul, of soullessness (and fastness: 32nd note runs, run, as fast as you can) —and asked of -ness
:: you may as well fly.
Questions are for later and for us: what did he see with his eyes pinched shut? in the question “what speaks of speaking,” what speaks? of what does it speak? of what it?
Coltrane announces himself, a second solo terrible beautiful light blossoms, orgiastic and spilling like the cracked overtone trill from B to C from B to C from B to C to D asked of beauty, found they were not ready
the sound of peace of silent prayer, for love and after love the healing force of the universe it loves so well it breaks the world apart when it comes the music says: sadness is the price for wisdom. Saudade again longing without longing again Saxophone merged tenor and vehicle. dusk-dawn :: mastered tri-tone substitutions and whole-tone or melodic minor scales. spring it might as well be vibrattoless arc bringing a light from where there is no light a light that asks of where’s there of where’s here [End Page 328] On that stage or on that record we keep vigil time’s lament destined to be incomplete. to incomplete us he said, “Trane didn’t need the saxophone,” and stood as if to leave
Amen. [End Page 329]
Anthony Reed is an assistant professor of English and African American studies at Yale University. He recently received the PhD degree in English from Cornell University.
Footnotes
* A Prayer for Coltrane