This is one of the longest chapters in the whole Anthology - jazz players can get long-winded when they’re feeling, well, titularly. (Though I could listen to Coltrane jam on “My Favorite Things” for hours.) Every note here, and every silence, is laden with meaning, every brushed cymbal coloring the mood a slightly different shade of indigo. There are lifetimes expressed in a fluid Wes Montgomery solo or modal Miles Davis trumpet line. The least you can do is sit there and listen.