Mahavishnu Orchestra? More like "Make-Mah-Wish-True" Orchestra, because this psychedelic goodness is opening my third eye—am I right??

…ahem. You'll have to forgive me—two weeks ago we were debating whether we'd had our first sampling of proper prog; in this case there's zero ambiguity and I summarily overdosed.

Birds of Fire is, to my ears, a space epic:¹ the opening track opens up a wormhole that distorts time and space itself; the dissonant guitar of this other dimension wrestles with the steady strings of our homeworld. That conflict between guitar and violin—manifest in one solo showdown after another—is a feature throughout the album. At other points I hear spaceships charging up for hyperdrive ("Sapphire Bullets of Pure Love"), seemingly Latin-inspired riffs ("Thousand Island Park"), a chaotic chase sequence ("One Word"), eavesdropping on a bizarre alien ceremonial rite ("Sanctuary"), then finally a safe return home ("Open Country Joy")—JUST KIDDING, WE'RE BLASTING OFF ONE MORE TIME!—aaand coming back down again, finally concluding with a foreboding imperial theme that teases the conflict we'll explore in the second movie album.

So yes, Birds of Fire is excellent. But an elephant abounds: is it jazz? No, obviously not. This time I have the credentials to prove it.

You see, recently I've had the pleasure of joining Jazz at Lincoln Center's fantastic Jazz 101 class, and in the first lecture Seton Hawkins is sure to impress the following conservative, three-element definition of jazz upon you (remember, this is Wynton's turf; he's the artistic director).² To truly be jazz, the music must include:

1. Blues expression³
2. Swing rhythm
3. An emphasis on improvisation

Apparently live performances of Birds of Fire knocked 3) out of the park, but I have a hard time locating 1) and 2) myself, and simply referencing Davis in a track title ("Miles Beyond") does not jazz make. I must be wrong—every reference I've seen to this album describes it as "jazz fusion" first and foremost—and yet I find myself unable to square that circle. We've heard a wide range of jazz so far, but though Louis Armstrong, big band, bebop, cool jazz, post-bop, and another example of jazz fusion all sound quite different, I can feel the common through line connecting them; though I can't formally define it, I can somehow hear that all of those are clearly and distinctly jazz. I don't get that feeling with Birds of Fire. That doesn't diminish my enjoyment of it in any way, but it makes it quite separate from our other entries.

But indulge me for a moment, if you will, in a non-musical coda: I learned (from Wikipedia) that Mahavishnu Orchestra got their name from the spiritual leader Sri Chinmoy. This confused me, because Sri Chinmoy is a quirky but lovable meditation teacher who lives in my hometown; he has a new poster offering meditation classes every few weeks at the community centre with his name and face front-and-centre.

…or so I thought; as it happens, the real Sri Chinmoy passed away in 2007. The posters I've seen are legit, but they're the handiwork of devotees of the late Chinmoy, trying to further evangelize his teachings. In hindsight, perhaps I ought to have puzzled that out myself—if one saw a poster emblazoned with Jesus giving a thumbs-up and the text "Come learn Jesus’ teachings!," one would not expect the actual Mr. H. Christ to be presiding—but in my defense, JC has better name recognition.

I can understand why one might become a follower of Sri Chinmoy; indeed after learning of his many accomplishments, it's hard to doubt there must've been a charge of divinity about him. I won't get into his meditation practices, his writings (1804 books), his songs ("[he] composed over 23,000 songs"), nor his art (hundreds of thousands of paintings, including "16,031 paintings in one 24-hour period" and over 15 million "Soul-Birds" in his life)—rather, I want to highlight one of his many feats of athleticism. You see, Sri Chinmoy was a lifelong proponent of exercise; he considered it to be a devotional act towards God. Just how devoted was he? Well, "on January 30, 1987, Sri Chinmoy lifted a weight of 7,063¾ pounds using only his right arm."⁴ One of his 23,000 songs was a tune to commemorate the occasion.

But while Sri Chinmoy may have possibly slightly exaggerated some of his own feats, he inspired a group for whom no exaggeration is required: participants in the annual Self-Transcendence 3100 Mile Race (founded by Sri Chinmoy, naturally—though he never participated in it himself) run 5,649 laps of one particular city block in Queens—a feat that took the record holder over 40 days to complete while running 18 hours a day. Self-Transcendence isn't the only thing on the line though: according to Wikipedia, "the prize is typically a T-shirt, a DVD, or a small trophy."⁵ This whole endeavour is far better-documented than Sri Chinmoy's individual challenges: this piece goes to press just after the conclusion of the 2025 race, but I can attest to watching the event live via their webcams earlier this week.

I suppose what I'm really getting at is: humans are funny creatures; there's really no telling what will get us going. I'm not especially religious myself, but credit where credit is due: the faithful have put out some choice works of art over the ages. Love for Christ begat the frescoes of the Sistine Chapel; love for Allah begat the Kaaba; and love for Sri Chinmoy's infinite, all-encompassing God begat Birds of Fire—a most worthy offering indeed.

Favourite track: Open Country Joy