- “The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady” Charles Mingus
Sitting at #14 on our list is the last jazz album (although there are a handful that are heavily influenced by jazz), and I can confidently say that, in addition to this being the “best” jazz album of all time (according to RYM) this is also my favorite on this list. By a long shot. To say that I’m thoroughly impressed and engrossed by this album would be an understatement. This album is an experience, drawing on everything from Duke Ellington-esq big band moments to flamenco; weaving complex compositions together to tell a story of seduction, lust, anger, sadness, and even hope. It’s rich and textured, a lush soundscape that, much like a good dance, ebbs and flows, giving each instrument a chance to shine, sometimes even in the background. Mingus plays with dissonance and harmony, and this push and pull results in a composition that rides on the edge of chaos, never falling apart but always threatening to, like two dancers holding onto each other by their fingertips. Each listen rewards with little moments and flourishes that rise to the surface, and the result is a record that I don’t think I could tire of even if I tried.
What sets it apart from the other jazz albums on this list is, in my opinion, not only the grandiose nature of the compositions (each song feels massive), but the storytelling nature of them. Each song is a story, and you don’t need to be some jazzhead to appreciate what’s going on or being said at any given moment. Sure, there’s probably plenty of stuff behind the scenes that someone with a greater knowledge of the genre could dissect for me, but the fact that I don’t need to research modes or new styles of composition is refreshing. That’s not to say that I needed to do those things with either the Miles Davis or John Coltrane albums earlier on this list, but when they came across as easy enough to understand my next question was “so what?” What makes this album great? With The Black Saint… it’s easy to see why this is considered great because it is over the top. The way it plays with dynamics and tempo is engrossing. It feels like you’re watching the ballet it was written for. It’s cinematic and emotive. And all of this is to say that, if I had to put Mingus’ greatest offering up with that of his contemporaries and choose, I would choose Mingus. This album makes me want to dig into more of his catalog to see what I’ve been missing (I already have Me, Myself, and I and Ah Um but… maybe I’ll go listen to those again now). In many ways, I guess that’s what a great album should do. It should make you wonder what you’ve been missing with their other releases. If the rest of his stuff is as good as this, I suppose the answer is: “A whole helluva lot”.
My Rating: 4.5/5
The Word and The Song 