If I had a daughter, I would name her “Naima.”

In those moments void of lyrical content, the compositions of John Coltrane are the lost gospels. They are the free form poetry of David, espousing emotion in its rawest forms. Exalting something I’ll simply call “greater than,” his songs are those of Solomon. In even their most secular of connotations, the sounds of Coltrane summon something deep inside that we cannot help but call “soul.”

While I’ve spent my day evoking the wisdom of Coltrane, I know that he is gone. And so, in remembrance, I seek the sounds of another. As the sun sets, forty-five years after the fact, I find comfort in the form of Abdullah Ibrahim. On this midsummer night, he eulogizes the great John Coltrane.


Written By: Paul Pennington

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