Earlier this year, John Coltrane’s opus, A Love Supreme, celebrated its 60^th anniversary with a translucent vinyl edition, remastered by esteemed engineer, Ryan Smith. It was a dazzling reissue, not just in its appearance spinning on the turntable, but sonically, as well. Mixed and presented in stereo, it displayed all the depth, virtuosity, and spellbinding impact of the original LP. Now, A Love Supreme returns, again remastered by Smith, and this time mixed in mono.

There was a time, decades ago, when mono sat side by side with stereo, if not the preferred format. A Love Supreme, in stereo, is a remarkable experience, accentuated by the legendary production of Rudy Van Gelder, who panned Trane’s unassailable tenor almost exclusively to one channel. This conspicuous move elevated Coltrane’s presence even higher within his quartet, and allowed drummer Elvin Jones to bookend him on the opposite side; by virtue, stretching the soundstage to panoramic proportion. The effect was, to say the least, affecting.

Counter that with this mono release, exemplary in its fidelity, yet bringing the four splendid elements together, essentially, as one. No longer is the separation of the players and their instruments the crucial, defining aspect; instead, the galvanizing combination is the key. The forest rather than the trees. 

Smith’s work on this one is just as deserving of praise. It is, as well, in mono an affecting listening experience, pressed on pleasingly quiet black vinyl. And, just as the anniversary cut had the diamond fire aesthetic akin to its stereophonics—its sonic shimmer coming from various angles—the mono edition is more the solid band of gold that holds the rock secure. A must-have complement to complete the pair, in reverence to one of the finer jazz records in history.