Music geeks live for those songs or live performances that feel like the Earth has been bumped two degrees off its axis, leaving you lightheaded and jelly-legged. Such was the case on a lazy afternoon in 1990 when, during a channel-flipping frenzy, I found myself staring down Sun Ra and his Arkestra.
The entire ensemble was dressed in shiny, brightly colored robes, with the shiniest and most colorful reserved for the band’s leader and pianist. They settled into a swinging hard bop number, with everyone singing about how you have to “listen to that cosmos song.” Just as I fell into a pleasant trance, the alto sax player started attacking his instrument, forcing out squeals and honks and shrieks from the depths of his soul. It carried on for another four minutes in the same vein, oscillating to a doo-wop-inspired closing minute. By the end, I felt breathless. And I wanted more.
