![]() ![]() Jarrett, 68, became a kind of existential hero to many of his admirers with the 1975 solo album “The Köln Concert,” a foundational text for both his career and for ECM, the German label that soon became his exclusive outlet. And it’s hard to know the precise legacy of that isolationism, which can seem like the pilot light of a creative furnace or the match setting a house, if not a bridge, aflame. It’s hard to think of a major jazz figure who has been as cloistered as Mr. ![]() That he set out to recreate the euphoria of a fundamentally social experience in solitude is more telling. Jarrett was feeling nostalgic about the Age of Aquarius in the colder era of Iran-contra is unremarkable, even a generational cliché. It was a rare kind of freedom.” The music on “No End,” he implies, flowed from that same place. Jarrett writes in the CD booklet, “and I was a participant in Haight-Ashbury during the golden days of hippiedom.” He recalls taking a saxophone to Golden Gate Park for daylong sessions with a hodgepodge of fellow seekers: “Some of the players were not so good, but it didn’t really matter it was the ‘intent’ that counted. “I never took drugs of any kind, but I knew we were trying to experience truth without dogma,” Mr. The multitracked result often feels like a sincere but hermetic response to the Grateful Dead, which apparently isn’t too far off the mark. Jarrett plays every instrument himself, leaning on electric guitar and drums, and hardly touching the piano. The oddest and most revealing album released this year by the pianist Keith Jarrett - there have been five so far, for anyone keeping score - is “No End,” a generous helping of noodly, faintly tribal rock jams recorded to cassette in a home studio in 1986.
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