Goddess of Speed

Miles Davis & Jeanne Moreau frm the Ascenseur pour l'échafaud sessions

What if the song were to take us somewhere, what if the song were to take us apart? Miles, Bird, Trane, a small room, night, Carnegie Hall. Monk, Pops, Mahalia, a day, a night, visitors who limned the gardens of the Vanderbilts. The looseness, the joie de vivre, the deafening depths spring from command and control, some acquired, some imbued. We peer down the tunnel of the past so intensely, eyes blinking in the face of pure white light. Peer down the tunnel, the other way: What if the song were to take us somewhere, what if the song were to take us apart?