The track listing is as follows: 1. Cherryco (6.45) 2. Focus on Sanity (12.07) 3. The Blessing (7.50) 4. The Invisible (4.08) and 5. Bemsha Swing (5.02).

This recording presented more of a shift in style for Coltrane that it did for Cherry and the result is that Coltranes tension comes through in the recording – in a good way. You can feel the edge on this recording and it is all the better for it.

Don’t be put off by the title, this recording is pretty accessible to any jazz listener, in fact it was one of the very first brushes with Coltrane that I had and it didn’t hurt a bit ! There are many reviews that refer to this recording as one of Coltranes poorer efforts. I say, dont compare it to his other work. It should be listened to without prejudice and in those terms it stands up as an excellent, interesting work.

Only a second ago he landed. Thump and dead. Four maybe five feet
away. Blood from his caved in skull is already spreading on
the pavement, mixing with the rainwater and touching at my
shoes. The soon to arrive police, reporters then medics will call
him a jumper. I recognise him by his uniform as the
maintenance man from my apartment building, the Blush Tower.
I cannot remember his name.

To avoid the coming commotion I circle the body and blood, enter the
lobby and make my way to the lift well. Looking back across
the polished squares of floor to the scene outside I see
that a crowd has gathered.

The Blush Tower consists of a large lobby with reception area and
Cafe on its ground floor, basement parking, eight floors of
executive apartments, two top floors containing penthouses for
the wealthy (all currently vacant) and a twelfth floor rooftop
garden with undercover swimming pool. It has day and
night time door men – none of whom stay very long or can
remember the residents by name or sight, two resident cleaners
and a resident, correction, no maintenance man.

- MAINTENANCE MAN WANTED -
- RESIDENTIAL -
- APPLY WITHIN -

Leaving the elevator on the seventh floor I slip along the corridor to
my apartment door. Although all apartments on my floor are
occupied I rarely see any of the other residents. Maybe it’s
the hours they keep. I let myself in, grab for a drink and slump
on the sofa.

After a short snooze I roll to sit upright and consider the evenings
agenda. Its too early to go to bed proper and my hunger is swelling.

I flick on the television and search the local news channels for, ‘A man
leaped to his death downtown today. Residents from the
Blush Tower where the man worked and lived said that ‘he was
always very nice’ and had ‘no idea why he would do such a thing,
he always seemed so happy.’ or something similar.

In this winter afternoons rare sunshine I stand, blanked by codeine,
atop the Blush Tower.With arms outstretched I draw deep breath
and lose my balance.