Sun Ra
Cosmic Tones For Mental Therapy

Herman the visionary.

I want to tell you something about Herman that only I know. You won't find it written in any biographies, articles, interviews, or anything else published about him.

I want to tell you about when he went to Saturn.

How it really happened.

It wasn't in ‘36 as Sun Ra sometimes said. That was a red herring. Sun Ra enjoyed telling half-truths and muddying the waters.

It was in '43. In February '43.

They had locked him up. In Alabama, in Jasper prison. Draft dodger.

Herman, or rather Sonny (as he preferred to be called), tried in every way to explain to the judge that he couldn’t go to war: he had a hernia, aunts to support, was very religious, and that if forced to use a weapon, he would use it to kill as many officers as possible. But - most importantly - he could not give up music. His music was too important.

Herman "Sonny" Poole Blount had a mission.

He knew it since he was a child. He had a "gift", a shimmer: already at 11 he was playing and composing. For this reason, in various ways, "space angels" had tried to communicate with him.

They made him understand that the world needed his music, to not sink into chaos. That was the reason he dropped out of college and plunged into music body and soul. He almost stopped sleeping, eating, and doing anything else that was not dedicating himself to music.

But then this war in Europe broke out.

He refused to go and so they tried to send him to Pennsylvania for civil service. Naturally, he didn’t show up.

The judge found him amusing and erudite, discussed the Bible and Law with him, and declared he had never met a "negro" like him. But then he sent him to jail.

Sonny, in jail, couldn't stay. He was unwell. He couldn’t live without music. He felt his nerves were about to collapse, felt he would die. The other inmates hated him. There was this giant black guy – Julius – who tormented him in all sorts of ways. And then he heard they wanted to abuse him.

He wrote a letter to the United States Marshals Service. Nothing.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He was crumbling. He was in pieces.

He refused food. He began to toy with the idea of suicide.

That's when the Space Angels decided to intervene.

They came from Saturn (they are a bit everywhere in the Cosmos, but Saturn is the base in our solar system) and took him away. They treated him, fed him, gave him a place to rest, restored his soul. Then, by mutual agreement, they decided to send Sun Ra back down to Earth in his place.

No one noticed the exchange.

No one "really" looks at others.

Sun Ra quickly sorted things. He knew how to get it done.

He knew that, among fools, those who love to wear a uniform are the most foolish of all.

First, he got sent to Pennsylvania, then he obtained permission to play the piano after forced labor, and finally convinced the examining board he was completely insane.

"Psychopathic personality and sexual pervert" but "oddly erudite and intelligent" the psychiatrists ruled. And they discharged him.

Sun Ra returned to Birmingham to Aunt Ida, as he knew Sonny would have wanted. He waited for her to die and left for Chicago. He played for a while with a certain Wynonie Harris, then went to find Fletcher Henderson.

Fletcher was "one of them". Sun Ra knew it, the Space Angels had been following him for a while. Fletcher needed a hand, things weren’t going well for him: he was being forgotten, the aftermath of a car accident still limited him, and Marl Young had left. Sun Ra helped him. Arranged his pieces, stayed with him for a while.

Then he went to find the others.

And he formed the Arkestra. He also changed his name to Le Sony’r Ra, so everything would be clear and because Herman Poole Blount was a slave name.

With the Arkestra, it was a bit like being back on Saturn. It was like coming home.

Then came hundreds of records, incredible concerts, meetings, music, voyages, strange clothes, strange instruments, strange shows. The Arkestra moved again to New York and then to Philadelphia. They also went to Egypt.

No one had ever seen or heard anything like it.

And then there was his philosophy. The "equation," as he called it. But no one has ever really understood it.

And there would be so many stories to tell and so much music to talk about.

But, if you want, you can find these stories in John F. Szwed's book ("Space is the Place," the best biography written about him) or in the articles, reviews, writings, interviews that you can find all over the place. And then there are his poems and his music that you can listen to on so many records that, barely, a lifetime would be enough for you.

Because Sun Ra was generous. He was a Space Angel. And he had a mission: to show us a way with his music. And he gave us that music without holding back. And he taught us that percussion is the weapon of revolt and that Africa is our Mother.

Music that is a labyrinth. You can approach it from wherever you like and get lost because you will anyway.

I suggest you start with "Cosmic Tones for Mental Therapy."

It is not one of his most famous. It is not among those favored by critics. But to me, it is perfect for trying to understand his music. It was recorded in '63 but only published in '67. Julian Cope says it’s as if Syd Barrett were playing the sax on "Electronic Meditation." In fact, critics consider it the first psychedelic record ever made; if you listen to it you understand why people like the Grateful Dead or the MC5 were crazy about him.

But be careful: don’t try to listen to it with lazy ears. Don’t mistake it for a free jazz bacchanal, there’s absolutely nothing free here, it’s all organized, written, planned. It’s abstract music, turn off your brain, let go.

On Saturn, gravity is over 90 times that of Earth and every year lasts 29 of ours. There, you need to learn lightness and forget time. High and low have no meaning in Space.

And then be careful: the music of Saturn might just abduct you.

Sun Ra got tired of Earth in 1993. He had done enough, no one could ask him for more.

So he left the Arkestra and his mission in the hands of Marshall Allen and returned to Saturn.

Every now and then he meets with Sonny, they drink something and talk about Earth. Sun Ra tells him about that time he was invited to speak at Berkeley or when he played an entire concert using only fists and elbows, or when he explained to journalists that he couldn’t have sex because he was a Space Angel.

What faces they made!

And they laugh. They laugh.

Now, you’ll ask me how I know these things?

Sonny told me.

Up there on Saturn.

I’ve been there. I’ve been there too.

The nights, on Saturn, are drunk with stars.