I was with either my ex-girlfriend or my dad when I first went to a Keith Jarrett concert. Either way, she was there, which may be the reason why it was also the last. I should go again.

I was 15—beginning my sophomore year in high school—and had several of Jarrett’s records in my collection: “The Köln Concert” (solo), a few with his classic quartet (Dewey Redman on sax), and another with his more avant-garde experimental works for various ensembles. In general, I loved his work. True, even then I found it to be sometimes indulgent, particularly the solo work. But the playing was always beautiful, expressing a profound sense of joy in making music.

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