Take the A Train

Few pieces in jazz carry their history as lightly as this one. Written by Billy Strayhorn as a literal set of directions from Harlem to the band's stomping ground at the Cotton Club, it became one of the most immediately recognizable themes in American music — and yet familiarity hasn't dulled it. The opening trumpet fanfare has the quality of an announcement, a summoning, and then the ensemble settles into a medium-up swing that feels like the city moving at full speed. Ellington's piano solos here with characteristic restraint and wit, choosing exactly the right notes rather than the most notes, his touch light and conversational. The horns punch and sway together with a precision that somehow sounds effortless, which is the Ellington trick — the enormous amount of compositional and rehearsal work made invisible by the naturalness of the performance. The song evokes a specific kind of urban romance: the subway car, the press of people, the sense that you are heading somewhere that matters. It belongs at a party where the dancing starts early, or as the first song on a playlist when you need to remind yourself that life has velocity and that velocity can be a pleasure.