To save some wear on your eyes: if you’re a fan of Ayler, go get this book; if you’re a fan of free jazz, go get this book; if you’re a fan of jazz, and not Wynton Marsalis, go get this book. For those of you still reading, Holy Ghost is a great book (go get it); a comprehensive biography of Albert Ayler, his pioneering musical ventures in free jazz, and the scenes around him. 

Firstly, beyond the contents, I have to say that this is a beautiful book; it balances style and aesthetics with being readable, a very clean and distinctive design and layout, with a section containing photographs in the middle. As for the contents, whilst I am a fan of Ayler I can’t claim to be any kind of authority on his work - and indeed, the book set me straight on a few major things - however, Holy Ghost does feel genuinely exhaustive, which I’m aware doesn’t make sense as a statement but Koloda has clearly gone to great lengths in terms of research. So, the 300-page-plus book makes reference to contemporary reviews of live and recorded work, interviews with those who knew or played with Ayler, and all kinds of archival material. Thus far it is the defining work on Albert Ayler.

I won’t retread the narrative and contents in detail because otherwise there’ll be no book left for you to read, but Koloda’s work traces Ayler’s life from his earliest years until his tragic, and still mysterious, death. Ayler was somewhat of a musical prodigy - and a keen golfer - and this interest in music led him to enlist in the army in 1958, a decision either fuelled by his desire to play music with ‘like-minded people’ or fuelled by his desire to escape his responsibilities after the birth of his first child, Curtis, with Carrie Roundtree - the first of several ultimately difficult relationships for Ayler. The book is naturally full of names, but surprisingly Ayler crossed paths with many other notable musicians purely through the army, for example, Lewis Worrell, Beaver Harris, Roscoe Mitchell, and Harold Budd - even playing with Peter Brötzmann whilst his company were stationed in Europe. Ayler’s early ventures carry echoes of Ornate Coleman’s life, being regularly mocked for his playing or even banned from playing by some clubs, and indeed Coleman, Eric Dolphy, and John Coltrane all pop up in the book. This sense of lineage, and Ayler’s place in it, is one of the most effective aspects of Koloda’s text; it regularly examines Ayler’s position between jazz’s past and present, simultaneously representing the very sharpest edge of the ‘new thing’ whilst often consciously looking back to, and borrowing from, the genre’s earliest roots. This sense of context is also evident in Koloda’s discussion of Ayler’s politics, or rather lack of them, with him insisting on a spiritual outlook sometimes at odds with the Black nationalism that existed in elements of the 60s free jazz scene. This spirituality and sense of personal purpose, even destiny, does give Ayler an eccentric edge, and adds another intriguing aspect to the book. He was most definitely a complicated soul, as was his brother, and bandmate, Donald, who’s pointed trumpet playing entwined with Ayler’s sax on many recordings, and both Aylers suffered tragic deaths. Albert disappeared on 5th November 1970 - three weeks later on the 25th his body was found floating in Brooklyn’s East River; almost immediately different theories circulated as to his passing, ranging from suicide to a mafia killing, and it remains an inconclusive case. Donald died in October 2005, after years of physical discomfort and mental anguish, ending his time in severe psychosis.

Both Aylers contributed to recordings and performances that dragged jazz into realms equal parts lofty and spiritual, and earthy and sensual, often combining simplistic jazz marches with blistering high-pitched squalls akin to speaking in tongues. Their work divided contemporaneous critics - and Ayler’s ‘controversial’ latter albums, experimenting with R&B and soul, are carefully considered in the book - but it’s now recognised as a key passage in jazz’s history and development - though it would be also fair to say that Albert and Donald remain outsider figures in the grand scheme of things. Koloda’s book documents that work exhaustively, and whilst an enjoyable read it is indeed supremely detailed, often commenting on events or recordings through the quotation of several conflicting voices; however, it has definitely lead me to listen to the Ayler records I have, and explore those recordings I hadn’t heard previously; and it’s certainly not dry, Holy Ghost does evoke the everyday concerns of Ayler, his quest for gigs and recording dates (Bernard Stollman who founded ESP-Disk and released key Ayler albums emerges as a key and intriguing figure), his simple quest for paying jobs, and his frequently changing romantic relationships, it also examines the practicalities of playing free jazz at the time, with gigs reduced to being held in lofts (the ‘loft scene’), and players often moving between groups, creating a web of connections. Holy Ghost is thus indispensable for those with an interest in free jazz, and I would argue jazz in general - though I acknowledge that Albert Ayler’s great power and legacy is that he remains so far ‘out there’: a truly individual voice, done justice by Richard Koloda.