Track Listing

1. Giant Steps
2. Cousin Mary
3. Countdown
4. Spiral
5. Syeeda's Song Flute
6. Naima
7. Mr. P.C.
8. Giant Steps [Alternate Take]
9. Naima [Alternate Take]
10. Cousin Mary [Alternate Take]
11. Countdown [Alternate Take]
12. Syeeda's Song Flute [Alternate Take]

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #5870 in Music
• Released on: 1990-10-25
• Number of discs: 1
• Format: Original recording remastered

Amazon.com essential recording
Released in January 1960, John Coltrane's first album devoted entirely to his own compositions confirmed his towering command of tenor saxophone and his emerging power as a composer. Apprenticeships with Dizzy, Miles, and Monk had helped focus his furious, expansive solos, and his stamina and underlying sense of harmonic adventure brought Coltrane, at 33, to a new cusp--the polytonal "sheets of sound" that distinguished his marathon solos were offset by interludes of subtle, concise lyricism, embodied here in the tender "Naima." That classic ballad is a calm refuge from the ecstatic, high-speed runs that spark the set's up-tempo climaxes, which begin with the opening title song, itself a cornerstone of modern jazz composition. This exemplary reissue benefits from eight alternate takes of the original album's seven stellar tracks, excellent remastering of the original tapes, and an expanded annotation. --Sam Sutherland

Customer Reviews

Coltrane's most important album.
It's understandable that many listeners may prefer to "Giant Steps" the more accessible earlier or later Trane. The former offers up his explorations within more familiar song forms; the latter makes the song secondary to the soloist's quest for a rapture beyond musical form altogether. "Giant Steps," on the other hand, is a musican's album. It set a new standard not only for saxophonists but all musicians, requiring a combination of harmonic knowledge and technical facility that sent numerous musicians back to the woodshed for countless hours of practice. Without this album, and especially the title song and "The Countdown," Coltrane's early work would have seemed short of realizing its potential, and his later work would have been open to increasing suspicion about his actual credentials. Like Armstrong's cadenza on "West End Blues" and Bird's break on "Night in Tunisia," "Giant Steps" turned heads and gave a generation of musicians a whole new understanding of what jazz improvisation was capable of producing.

For the more technically minded, Trane's revision of dominant-tonic harmony is more impressive than his later embracing of modes as the sole platform for his scales and upper register probings. Suggested by the challenging bridge of Rodgers and Hart's "Have You Met Miss Jones," the sequence moves through a cycle of descending major thirds which, in the hands of most musicians, feels awkward and unnatural. Coltrane not only mastered the sequence but learned how to use it as a substitution in conventional harmonic settings. More impressively, he learned to execute it with an agility and naturalness that makes it possible for the listener to ignore the harmonic underpinning entirely and be swept up by the wave of emotion and melodic inventiveness.

"Giant Steps" is the main reason Sonny Rollins temporarily stopped playing in public. To his credit he came up with his own solution to the tyrannous sameness of much pop song harmony, but he was never able to come to terms with the harmonic complexity and technical innovations introduced by Coltrane. On the other hand, few have.

'Giant Steps' revisited - with a technical 'correction'...
My purpose here is not to simply add more superlatives to this legendary album's justly proud reputation -- it's everything and more that has been written about it of a praiseworthy nature; and you'll find plenty of praise here in these reviews (see especially the insightful words from Samuel Chell). But there remains one rather 'technical', and curiously long-lived misconception about GIANT STEPS which, as a serious student of jazz and avid music collector, myself (I have virtually all of Coltrane's impressive recorded output), I have wanted to correct
for years -- a misunderstanding which, I hasten to add, in NO way diminishes the brilliance and stature of this pivotal milestone in Coltrane's prolific career.

The problem is this: over the years, repeated references (and you'll find some of them in these reviews) to this classic album's being the ultimate representation of Coltrane's famous
'sheets of sound' phase, or technique, are simply mistaken. The so-called 'sheets of sound' effect that so startled early Coltrane audiences, in fact, emerged in his late '50s albums for Prestige -- not yet fully developed in the '56-'57 sides with the early Miles Davis Quintet (not even on that groundbreaking group's final recording, Miles' first for Columbia, 'ROUND ABOUT MIDNIGHT), but very well documented, even dominating, in Coltrane's prolific late '57-'58 period on Prestige, where the best examples of his 'sheets of sound' are to be found.

Technically, 'Trane's much-touted 'sheets of sound' amounted to his simply (!) shifting into a 'higher gear', at slow-to-medium-fast tempos -- essentially, playing more 16th notes (i.e., 4 notes to every beat), instead of relying on the more typical
8th-note orientation (i.e., 2 notes to each beat) of most modern jazz solos from early be-bop onward. Coltrane's solos during this period often used this technique to the point of letting those rapid-fire, 16th-note runs dominate his playing -- giving rise to the description, 'sheets of sound', or, sometimes, the more pejorative (and unjust) charge from critics that he was just 'running scales'. Upon even cursory examination, Coltrane's solos on GIANT STEPS, on the contrary -- despite the prevalence of furious tempos (which should not be confused with how many notes PER BEAT are being played!) -- actually do NOT contain a preponderance of the notorious 16th-note passages. In fact, the relatively spare use of his well-established, '4-to-the-beat' phrases on this 1960 classic might be viewed as one of the more 'unexpected' aspects of this landmark entry in the great Coltrane legacy. His wonderfully agile, complex, and justly famous solos on such pieces as the title track, and even the demonically paced 'Countdown', in fact, consist of predominantly 8th notes; and, while the fast tempos, themselves, of course, may dictate a rapid torrent of notes, they still mostly come at 'only' 2 to the beat -- not the daunting 4 per beat that really define the 'sheets of sound' effect. It may be suggested that the generally fast tempos on GIANT STEPS are largely responsible for the relative absence of 16th-note runs throughout the album (as a practical limitation, even for Coltrane!); yet, it also is true that even the more moderately paced pieces -- normally more conducive to 'sheets of sound' flights -- are relatively free of that effect, compared to Coltrane's previous work on Prestige.

At this album's date, the intense, multi-noted, and profoundly influential explorations that would largely define Coltrane's approach, even to the end, were yet to be applied in still other musical contexts, as this jazz giant's expansive music evolved from the 'interim' Atlantic years into the final, long Impulse! period of cutting-edge experimentation. The initial shock of those earlier 'sheets of sound' would dissipate, and seem 'tame' by comparison -- or, perhaps, just 'inevitable' building blocks in the larger scheme of things ... and the legend would only grow.

The planets in a perfect line...
It is rare to find an album that can be enjoyed equally under any mood or at any time of day. "Giant Steps" is just that. Each of the seven compositions are bold, daring, exciting, and yet still retain a sense of accessibility. This is the most well-rounded Coltrane record that I have heard thus far; each song is extremely well-placed, both in sequential and harmonic/melodic order. It is perfect for the Coltrane novice who is seeking something that packs more of his signature punch than earlier efforts such as "Soultrane", but with less full-fledged abstraction found on later records such as "Mediatations". To an experienced Coltrane listener, this album is grammar school, and I mean that not in the elitist sense, but rather that this record is probably the one that got them into 'Trane in the first place.

The album begins as though the producer has caught the band in a hurried state, just as they're about to begin a tune. The title track has become somewhat of a standard over the years, though most cover outfits would hesitate to take too many liberties with it. "Giant Steps" is a crash course in the tuneful yet thought-provoking melodic and harmonic structures that Coltrane utilizes throughout the rest of the album, not only in his magnificent soloing, but in the support structures of the piano and bass as well. "Cousin Mary" keeps the energy going strong with a powerful bluesy progression at its core, while giving the brilliant rhythm section a chance to shine during Coltrane's reprieves. "Countdown" is a truly one-of-a-kind piece. Starting with its signature drum solo and Coltrane's spirited wailing soon thereafter, the piece's structure is truly indicative of its name. When Coltrane enters guns blazing, the listener has very little idea what exactly is going on as far as tonic is concerned. Then the piano enters with staccato chords, and the harmonic base is subtly, but not entirely, introduced. When Coltrane enters the last push, the signature "melody" of the song, Paul Chambers explodes with energy, and the bassline of the song is heard for the first time. By this point the listener is immersed in the song at its fullest, and Coltrane knows this. After only a phrase, the song screeches to a halt with one of the gentlest, most lyrical endings ever committed to tape. It only makes sense he would follow such an exhausting number with the still upbeat yet soothing "Spiral", containing some very dark, moody, and slightly restrained soloing from Coltrane. He brings the funk back with "Syeeda's Song Flute", a slightly mischievious piece that would perfectly accompany any bank heist (don't read into that, I just have a strange imagination).

If Coltrane comes at you from all sides with his so-called "sheets of sound" throughout the record, he certainly tucks you under them for the powerfully beautiful "Naima", supposedly named for his wife at the time. This is one of the finest jazz ballads ever written. Coltrane uses his honest (some have called it harsh?) tone to convey musical feeling even a road-hardened killer couldn't shy away from. There is also a slight personnel change, with the delightfully hushed Jimmy Cobb replacing Art Taylor on the drums, and Wynton Kelly taking Flanagan's place on Piano. The end of the song is truly a marvel, despite any hard feelings the listener might have over such a beautiful achievement coming to a close. I have on several occasions found myself rewinding the disc just to hear that last batch of soft, comforting notes. Right before you pass on into the land of dreams, Coltrane rouses you back to life with the bucket of ice water that is "Mr. P.C.". As the name suggests, this is designed as a showcase for the marvelous Paul Chambers, just as "Giant Steps" was named after his enormous harmonic leaps in that song. Coltrane is clearly very fond of Chambers' playing, and they work off of each other brilliantly. After trading fours with the furious and kinetic Art Taylor, the group brings the song, and the album, to a close.

If you're new to Coltrane, there is simply no better place to start. This is assuming, however, that you've got a knack for jazz. Otherwise, some "Blue Train" (another excellent, yet more accesible album) may be in order. If "A Love Supreme" is his conceptual masterpiece, "Giant Steps" is surely his finest batch of songs. This is somewhat of a technical album, and it will surely be more readily adored by musicians than non-musicians. After listening to this record front to back, I often get so carried away by the pervasive, torrential energy of the playing that I have to expel my own excitement on my drumkit. When listening to Coltrane, you've got to understand what you're getting into; it is easier to let his notes cascade over you rather than try to fit him in a preconceived melodic box. He comes at you from all sides, often using long streams of notes simply for their textural effect, and saving quieter, more lyrical passages for just the right times. Still, even non-musicians will find plenty here to enjoy, if only they afford this album the time of day. It deserves and rewards repeated listenings, preferably through good headphones, before the glorious nuances of each of the band members become apparent. This is simply one of the greatest records of all time, and belongs in the collection of anyone who calls themself a jazz, or even music, fan.