#and then i was 'this could use a ponder to finish the holy quartet. and THEY ARE ACTUALLY TAKING HIM

[curarems]

Ridcully Bursar Ponder Librarian. This is brilliant. Best possible quartet for the journey to Lancre. I can't WAIT

[keeroo92]

Savior, Bloodstain, Hellfire, Shadow Ch34 (V x Reader)

True Ending part two: Sacrifice :D

V

A peaceful moment of bliss passes as the quartet regains their bearings after the dramatic scene, each gathering themselves to finish what you all started together. V has to force himself to bring his mind back to the matter at hand, instead of reveling in all the joy he feels at having a future. He’s never allowed himself the luxury of wondering what his life will be like in five years, ten years, anything past Urizen.

Holy shit, we’re alive! It actually worked! Can you believe it, Shakespeare?

I… I don’t have the words.

Allow me, then. FUCK YEAH!

An amused roar, a low rumble of shifting earth. V smirks at his three friends’ jubilance, all four of them giddy with excitement. It feels as if he’d been carrying a massive block of stone on his back and never noticed, the weight of it so normalized that he couldn’t have envisioned his existence without it on his shoulders. Yet now, the weight is lifted, and V feels as if he can fly unaided. His spirit soars, his mind racing at everything he can now plan for, new goals already formulating as the news of his child sinks in.

He cradles you even closer, tightening his arms around you tenderly. A long sigh from Dante reminds him forcefully that his task is not yet complete.

 Urizen is gone, but the Qlipoth remains.

V carefully sits up, keeping you in his arms as he refocuses on what still needs to be done. It irritates him to realize how his body still trembles, his nerves frayed and exhausted to the point of rebellion after all he has endured. He sighs in frustration as both Nero and Dante stand with ease, seemingly unaffected by their chaotic battle.

“So… how do we take this overgrown weed down?” Nero comments with a smirk. His eyes sweep across the area and widen as he spots something near Urizen, his feet carrying him to it in seconds.

The young warrior lets out an excited whoop, stooping over to pick up a long and thin object.

 Is that…?

Nero holds the item up with a wide grin.

“It’s Yamato!” he calls out, confirming V’s suspicions. Dante shakes his head and chuckles as Nero returns.

“Right, then… that’ll come in handy. Give it here, kid,” Dante demands, holding out his hand. Nero looks at him quizzically, not fully grasping his uncle’s intentions yet. The elder Sparda sighs, crossing his arms as he elaborates.

“Look, someone’s gotta go clean up this mess, and I sure as hell ain’t about to let any of you three do it,” the man in red begins. “I need to sever the Qliphoth roots in the Underworld itself. Then, I'll seal the portal with the Yamato.”

Nero instantly starts to protest, V simply sharing a look of bewilderment with you at his brother’s tone.

“Hang on, if you do that, you can't come back!” his argumentative son argues vehemently.  

“Why do you think I'm the one going? I’m the only one with nothing to lose. I’ll get the job done, no matter what it takes,” Dante replies, giving a weighted look at you and V, and suddenly the poet understands.

 He’s sacrificing himself for us.

His heart sinks like a stone in a streambed at the realization, knowing he’s about to lose his brother once again just as the two of them were starting to reconnect.

“You can't just expect me to stay here, while you go—” Nero shoots back, but V interrupts him tersely.

“Think of Kyrie. Could you truly abandon her like that? Dante is right, it has to be him,” the obsidian haired man explains frustratedly. Nero grunts in aggravation as he struggles to find a counter, unable to do so despite his best efforts.

“It's because you're here I can go. I’m trusting you three with things on this side, capisce?”  the man in red declares. Nero grimaces, understanding at last though he still clearly wants to go along. He hands the blade to his uncle sadly, pulling the elder Sparda into a hug for an awkward familial embrace. The two men part after a brief moment and Nero clears his throat to speak once more.

“Thanks, Dante. Thanks for everything. I’ll keep this side safe, I promise,” he solemnly states.

 Why must there always be a cost? Is the Sparda family fated to be separated?

V steps forward as well with his face twisted with bitterness, reaching out to his brother to shake his hand as he speaks, “I’ll shade him from the heat till he can bear, to lean in joy upon our fathers knee, and then I’ll stroke his silver hair, and be like him and he will then love me.”

Dante just stares at him in mystification, their arms still locked together.

“Put simply, thank you, brother. And good luck. Do try to come back to us,” V explains with a sigh. Dante smirks; those words he could understand.

“I will,” Dante promises, releasing V’s arm to face you. Your eyes are wide and teary as you meet the man’s gaze.

“Dante… there has to be another way! What if you can’t make it alone?” you cry. V takes your hand and gives it a comforting squeeze as Dante replies softly.

“There isn’t, kid. Come here for a sec,” he rumbles, gesturing to the side and walking away from the others with you barely a step behind. V swallows heavily as bittersweet gratitude toward his brother fills him, knowing exactly what dangers Dante will face in the underworld from personal experience.

______________________________________________________________

A few moments pass in silence as you accompany Dante toward the peaceful house, his gaze locked on the structure thoughtfully. The idea of him being trapped in the underworld is deeply disturbing, but you can’t fault his logic. He is the strongest, and also the only one of the group without a partner who would be devastated to lose him. It’s tragic, but the thought of Nero or V going with him or in his place is so much worse you can’t even finish the thought.

“Alright… couple things. First, you really gonna have V’s kid, kid?” the man in red begins, a curious smile twisting his mouth.

“I… eventually, maybe. I only said that because I thought it might get through to him,” you respond in embarrassment, turning pink. You had hoped no one else had heard that part, but considering how loud you had shouted, it doesn’t really surprise you that your words are apparently common knowledge.

“I can respect that. I mean, it worked, so good call. I uh… if you ever do end up having kids with him, be extra careful. I can’t say if his demonic heritage would affect anything, but who knows? You two could have your hands full with a little devil running around,” he comments wryly. You can’t help but chuckle, picturing a tiny version of Dante’s devil form flying away to escape time out.

“I have a request, though, if you’ll hear me out,” he continues.

Suspicion blooms like a flower in your mind and you cross your arms, giving him an imperious glare. He’s kept his word and been respectful, but if he thinks he’s never coming back, who knows what he’ll ask you for?

“I’m not agreeing without hearing it first,” you inform him, and now it’s his turn to chuckle.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing like that,” he assures you with a smirk. He turns back to face the house, his eyes lost in memory as he explains himself. “Thing is, back in Red Grave City, this place is practically destroyed. I have the deed for the land in my safe, Trish knows the combination. I want you and V to have it, and my request is that you rebuild it. Make some good memories to clear out the bad. There’s been too much darkness there, but once it was a good home and it could be again.”

You freeze in your tracks, caught utterly off guard by his request.

 I thought he’d want a kiss or something!

Taking a few seconds to think about it, you realize how perfect the idea is. You never intended to go back to your apartment, and as far as you know V doesn’t have a home to return to. It would take some time to rebuild it, but with some hard work it could be a wonderful home.

 And I’d live with V! Just the two of us.

Dante watches you carefully as you ponder, nervousness marking his face as he waits to hear your response. You shoot him a smile as your thoughts reach their conclusion, leaning forward to wrap him in your arms for a hug. He hesitates but hugs you back gently.

“Thank you, Dante. We’ll make it a home again, I promise,” you whisper against his chest. You hear the low rumble of a hum of acknowledgement in his body, a small smile crossing his rugged features. He pulls away to put his hands on your shoulders, staring deeply into your eyes.

“Hey, I should be the one thanking you. You saved my brother, or at least the part that’s not a total douchebag. We would’ve fought, probably until one or both of us was dead, so you kinda saved my life too,” he gratefully explains.

You can’t help but blush, unsure if you can really take the credit for that but touched by his words regardless. He stands upright again, dropping his hands to rest on his hips as he turns back to face the house he lost everything in.

“I guess I have a couple other requests, actually,” he adds, and your eyes drift upward in an exasperated roll. You sigh but gesture for him to speak, preparing another eye roll if he asks for something stupid.

“First I gotta tell you where it is, but I want you to take V to our mom’s grave. It’s not far from the house, shouldn’t be too hard to find,” he begins carefully. “I would’ve liked to take him myself, but…”

You swallow harshly as the tears you’ve only barely managed to withhold after V’s survival threaten to spill forth once more. Your heart aches for Dante, knowing that he faces almost certain death and this may be your last chance to speak to him alone.

“I’d be honored to take him, Dante. And Nero, too, if that’s alright,” you whisper back. Dante nods his agreement, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he wrestles with his own emotions. Your first impression of him couldn’t have been more wrong, in the end. Yes, he puts up an arrogant façade, only showing the confident and reckless portions of himself to most people. But underneath the bravado and flirtations, Dante is a deeply intuitive person. He reminds you a little of Lara in his thoughtfulness. Few people would have asked for the things he was asking, for you to restore his childhood home and help his brother find closure.

 Oh, Dante… I’m sorry. I underestimated you.

“Last thing, and this one is more of a formality. Keep an eye on Nero, yeah? Make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid. And V, too. He’s gonna need you even more after all this bullshit, you know,” he concludes heavily.

You take a page out of the legendary devil hunters’ playbook and adopt a confident, almost cocky expression as you cross your arms and turn to face him.

“Try and stop me,” you answer, with all the bravado you can muster. Dante bursts out laughing, clapping a hand on your shoulder as he catches his breath.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re gonna make a great Sparda. I wish I could be there to see it,” he chuckles.

“See what?” you ask.

“Hehe, see you and V get married. Hey, thanks for caring about him so much. I’m glad he won’t be alone anymore,” Dante tells you with a sly grin.

 Married!?

 Married…

A wide smile spreads across your lips at the idea as you picture V waiting for you at the end of an aisle, all your friends surrounding you as you officially declare your love for each other. Dante chuckles once again at your radiant expression.

“And with that, kid, you’re ready.”

He snickers once more, almost wheezing in amusement as he starts walking back to the other two men. You follow behind, glancing back at the house once again to solidify its appearance in your memory. The four of you stand together, sharing one last moment before the family is forced apart.

 It isn’t enough…

You step forward, standing in the middle of the men and reaching out to pull them all into a group hug. Nero grumbles along with Dante, but V just laughs as he embraces his family. You’re wrapped in a cocoon of Sparda’s, enveloped in warmth and love.

From V, the man you’ve given your heart and will love for the rest of your life.

To Nero, the brother and best friend you never knew you were missing.

To Dante, the pseudo father figure that had surprising depths hidden behind his mask of joviality.

After a long moment, the men break the embrace, all smiling but also a bit pink. Nero looks up the hole you had all jumped down with a frown.

“How the hell are we gonna get back up?”

______________________________________________________________

V

In the end, Dante has to ferry each of you up one at a time using his devil form. By the time everyone is back in the dark and terrible Qlipoth structure, his brother is panting with exertion. In contrast, V can feel himself recovering slowly, his strength gradually returning to him as his body replenishes itself.

He’s still tired, still needs a little help to keep moving. He takes turns being partially supported by you and Nero a the three of you leave Dante behind to gather his strength before he crosses over. None of the trio gets far before glancing back at the legendary man  one last time, drinking in his face before it’s lost forever.

 Knowing Dante, he’ll be back.

 I suppose… but it could be years.

 Have some faith, Shakespeare. If anyone can get lucky enough to find their way back, it’s him.

V snorts; his brother definitely has most of the luck in the family, never seeming to have faced a hurdle he couldn’t overcome. Jealousy burns in his stomach as he ponders the contrast to his own life, full of failures and disappointment.

 Until now…

 Now I have everything I’ve never knew I wanted.

He smirks, emerald eyes glancing at you and Nero in turn as you hand him over to the young warrior for the next leg of the journey back to Nico’s van. It should be just around the next corner, if V’s memory serves.

 Ah, there it is.

“V!!! You made it!” Nico howls triumphantly as she sprints over, Lady and Trish not far behind her. All three of their grinning faces fall in unison as they realize who’s missing.

“Where’s Dante?” Trish demands, glaring at V accusingly.

 Of course she would blame me.

“He went to take care of the Qlipoth,” Nero answers helpfully, but his words only inflate Trish’s rage.

“You let him go ALONE?!” she shouts, turning her angry gaze on each of the three of you in turn. V sighs, carefully letting go of Nero and taking his weight on his own legs with a slight grunt. His body still aches, nerves complaining from the abuse he’d endured, but cooperating enough for him to limp over to the van and sit on the lowest step.

“He wouldn’t let us go with him, said we have too much to lose…” you inform Trish mournfully. Lady collapses to the ground, tears falling as she hears of her friend’s sacrifice. Nico lays a hand on the distraught woman’s shoulder, patting it reassuringly as she processes her own reaction.

“So does he! He could die!” Trish screams, infuriated. She makes a noise of disgust as she pushes past V, hastily gathering her weapons from inside the van as she prepares to follow Dante into the abyss. Lady lets out a startled yelp as a deep rumble comes from the Qlipoth; Dante must have met resistance. The entire structure shakes, small segments turning grey and falling to crash on the ground around the vehicle. You and Lady quickly join Trish in the van, but V pauses as he sees Nero hesitate.

His hands clench, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He closes his eyes and bows his head in a silent farewell, then turns around and starts running.

“I’m going after him! You guys get out of here! And… tell Kyrie I’m sorry!” the young warrior shouts over his shoulder. V stands heavily, reaching out to try and stop him, but Nero is far too fast and vanishes around the corner before he can do anything.

“Nero!” he howls, to no avail. His son is gone, following his brother to their doom.

“V, get inside! We have to go!” you urge him from inside, having witnessed Nero’s departure from the window. You reach out to pull his shoulder, forcing him to join you on the steps as Nico starts the van. He surrenders, still to weak to fight you off as you drag him to the couch.

 First Dante, now Nero… how long will it be until I lose Y/N too?

 Hey, they could still make it back! Don’t count them out yet!

“I still say I could go after him, too!” Trish insists, in a heated argument with Lady. The van speeds away as the two women fight, but V tunes them out. He focuses on you, cradling you in his arms as Nico’s perilous driving takes you all away from the Qlipoth. He rests a hand on your stomach, wondering if he’ll have another son or perhaps a daughter. It comforts him, helps him remember that his family hasn’t all gone to face death.

 Only half of it…

______________________________________________________________

The retreat continues, the massive Qlipoth rumbling threateningly even as Nico carries you all away as quickly as she can. You watch out the window as you at long last reach daylight, leaving the darkness behind. The van races on as the tree shrinks, though it’s hard to tell considering its size.

 I hope Nero can’t find Dante. I hope he gives up and finds us…

As the van crests a hill, you see a bright light appear a few dozen yards higher on the tree, a blue glow flashing for an instant. You lean forward, squinting to try and figure out the source of the beautiful color.

“Nero?!” you gasp out, drawing the attention of the others instantly. Even Nico shifts her eyes to see what you’re staring at; fortunately, you’re on a somewhat clear and straight stretch of road. Lady and Trish gape as the blue light rises, ascending the tree at an incredible speed. A faint echo of Nero’s voice hits you as the blue dot leaves your field of view.

“Holy shit! Is he flying?!” Nico demands. She’s forced to pay attention to the road again as you dash onward, putting yet more distance between your group and the Qlipoth. You rejoin V on the couch, no longer able to see Nero.

 What the hell happened to him? How can he fly?

“He must have unlocked his devil form. I was beginning to wonder if he even had one, but better late than never,” Trish comments dryly, smirking.

Mere seconds later, all eyes are drawn back to the tree once again as the ground beneath the wheels of the van shakes ominously. The Qlipoth is turning grey, its horrible form breaking and massive chunks of stone-like remains crash to the ground below in a symphony of Dante’s success.

Everyone in the van cheers as the demonic growth crumbles away, the red stained clouds clearing and the darkness receding from the city as the last few pieces rain down. Sections of the city shift, the roots they had been elevated on vanishing and forcing them back to their original positions.

 I hope the Sparda manor is alright…

 I hope Dante and Nero are alright.

Your heart aches as you realize that one or both of them must have made it to the underworld and severed the tree from the other side. Nico pulls over, the van screeching to a stop. The five of you dash off the van to stand and watch the skyline, waiting with bated breath for any sign of your friends.

 Please… please, Nero, come back…

  ______________________________________________________________

The group waits for hours, refusing to admit the brutal truth even as the sun sets and the shadows lengthen behind you. The flame of hope stutters in your chest, dimming and finally going dark as Lady speaks the words you’ve all been thinking.

“They’re gone… both of them…” the brunette states morosely. You sniffle, angrily wiping your eyes as you begin to cry, again.

 I swear, I’ve cried enough to fill a bucket today.

You lean your head on V’s shoulder where he sits beside you, his face stricken as he faces the fact that his brother and his son are gone, trapped in the underworld with no hope of escape.

“Goddamnit, Nero! You fucking asshole!” Nico exclaims, sorrow and rage mixing in her voice. Her shoulders sag as she starts to cry, head bowed as choking sobs break from her lips.

Trish barely shows her sorrow, only her trembling lower lip betraying her pain as she continues her vigil. Her eyes have never once left the horizon, her faith in Dante unshakeable.

Lady sits on your other side, her fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of her jacket. She keeps biting her lip, worrying it with her teeth in an expression of anxiety.

You wipe your eyes once more and stand, stepping into the van and searching for blankets and pillows. Your breath hitches as you spot one of Nero’s mechanical arms awaiting his return on Nico’s workbench, its cold metal never to touch the flesh of the man it was made for.  Your resolve shatters, your bruised and exhausted heart aching in your chest as you bury your face in a pillow from the couch and scream, wailing your pain to the uncaring down feathers stuffing it.

You had been preparing yourself to lose V, unsure if your plan would work.

You had not been preparing to lose anyone else.

 Stupid, so stupid, to think we could all make it through in one piece! There was no way, it’s amazing more of us aren’t dead!

You bite your cracked lips, stifling the sobs as best you can.

 I’m so tired of crying.

Your head pulsates with waves of pain, your mouth so dry you can’t even wet your lips properly. The flesh under your eyes feels raw from all the tears you’ve wiped away, your eyelids swollen and tired.

 Is it wrong for me to be happy that V’s here? To be grateful?

 It feels like a cruel joke.

“Little fox? Are you alright?” V’s lilting tone calls out from the door. He easily spots you with your face stuffed into a pillow, shoulders still shaking. He closes the door behind him and gently takes you in his arms, rubbing your back soothingly and making soft shushing sounds in your ear. Your sobs fade into hiccups, your body relaxing into his warmth as he eases your pain.

He leans back to look into your eyes, a mournful smile on his lips.

“I’m so sorry about Nero. I know how important he is to you,” he whispers. You swallow heavily before responding, picking up the pieces of your broken heart.

“He’s my best friend… and Dante was growing on me. I can’t believe they’re just… gone,” your broken voice states. V grimaces and you’re suddenly acutely aware of what he must be feeling, self-loathing surging within you as you realize how much worse his pain could be.

“Are you okay, V?” you ask him tremulously. He moves to sit on the couch with a sigh, pushing the dark curtain of his hair out of his face. You reach out to him, your hand feeling the tenseness in his neck and shoulders. You start rubbing, massaging his clenched muscles as he responds slowly.

“I… I don’t know. My body grows stronger, yet… I’m worried about them. About Dante and Nero. I wish there had been another option, or that Nero hadn’t run off,” he mumbles. You pinch the corded muscle connecting his shoulder to his neck and he lets out a contented moan as you carefully pull on the tissue.

“I’m worried too. Is there really nothing we can do? No way to reach them?” you ask morosely, but to your shock, V’s eyes widen as he jolts in the classic expression of an idea coming into his mind.

“There might be… there are many routes to the underworld, it’s possible if there’s an open one close by that we could find them,” he tells you thoughtfully. A low glow of hope flares in your heart, the idea of being able to get the two white-haired warriors home too appealing to ignore.

V stands excitedly, taking your hand and pulling you with him as he goes back outside to rejoin the others. The three women stare at him in confusion as they take in his eager expression, all still reeling from the loss.

“Trish, do you know if there are any devil gates nearby? Or a portal, any access point to the underworld?” the poet begins. The blonde woman stares at him blankly for a long moment as her mind catches up. Her eyes widen in realization, her lips stretching into a hesitant smile.

“You think we could get them out.” She states. V nods, and all three women rush at him, each desperate for any scrap of hope.

 Wait… didn’t Dante say something about closing the portal?

“Uh, guys? Can you explain to the newbie how exactly there’s a way to the underworld if Dante closed the portal with the Yamato?” you ask the quartet. Trish shares a look with V, then steps forward to explain.

“The underworld has numerous portals, uncountable ways to reach it. Dante was referring to the largest and most well-known portal, the one that’s been used most recently to bring the Qlipoth here. Even if he does seal that portal, there are many others that may still function. Those closest to the closed portal may weaken or stop working entirely, but some portals farther away could work easily,” she explains kindly.

“So there’s hope?” you ask her meekly.

“Yes, Y/N. We’re gonna bring our boys home.”

[gearboxrecords]

Thelonious Monk - Mønk

Sammy Stein - Something Else

Tapes of an previously lost Thelonious Monk performance have been rescued and mastered by Gearbox Records, and are now available on an LP. Mønk is from the idiosyncratic pianist’s prime period and feature his most critically acclaimed quartet recorded live on March 5, 1963 at Odd Fellows Mansion in Copenhagen. He memorably collaborated with saxophonist Charlie Rouse, bassist John Ore and drummer Frankie Dunlop on the Columbia studio albums Criss-Cross and Monk’s Dream, both released in 1963. Ore went on to play with Sun Ra.

Fifty-five years later these tapes have been saved, then cut using Gearbox’s legendary all-analog process. (They use the same lathe as Blue Note did back in the day.) The results on Mønk open a window onto Thelonious Monk in his prime, one year before he would become one of only five jazz artists to appear on the front cover of Timemagazine.

Already a renowned jazz pianist who had worked with Miles Davis, Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, Monk began to employ improvisational technique which included gaps in the music and repetition of phrases in different formats, while also using the keyboard to introduce disharmonic chords. Though grounded in gospel, Monk started experimenting and introducing his own improvised sections in pieces. With his idiosyncratic style, both in his playing and off-stage, Monk undoubtedly had an influence on jazz musicians like pianist Bud Powell who followed, inspiring them to improvise and play according to their heart. He was one of the key musicians to help forge links between bop, hardbop and free jazz.

Mønk is a wonderful showcase of that prowess. Thelonious Monk’s playing on this night features many of the artistic and rhythmic improvisational traits that brought him such acclaim and admiration. As this celebrated quartet reimagines and explores Monk’s classics, that approach to the piano is inimitable and unmistakable.

“Bye-Ya” opens Mønk with a dramatic drum solo from Frankie Dunlop, whose hard-hitting style comes to the fore throughout, adding punctuation and structure. The sax line is lovely, rolling and backed by a walking, strolling and constantly supportive bass. The drums pop in and out like a timely reminder and the lower notes of the wonderful Charlie Rouse on sax are completely in control and absolutely gorgeous. This track shows the strength of the integrity of the quartet – and Monk’s piano, needless to add, takes its own lines, adds little points of interruption and commentary to make the track speak to the listener. The ever-so-polite clapping from the Danish audience halfway through is in contrast to the musical shenanigans on stage. The piano solo from those dextrous fingers of Monk, along with his disharmonic interpretation of the theme later in the track, tell you this is Thelonious Monk at his definitive best. The clapping is more enthusiastic as the track finishes.

“Nutty” makes masterful use of space and melody. The theme is set early on and repeated several times before Charlie Rouse’s masterful solo begins – and masterful is the right word, as he takes center stage musically, with Monk accompanying with some style. It is hard to express Monk’s ability as an accompanist, and he is rightfully considered one of the best the jazz world has known. Here, he is intuitive and almost psychic in his support of the solo, and the bass and percussive lines are pretty near perfect too. This allows the solo to develop, whilst offering solid scaffolding underneath. The piano emerges for a solo with the bass accompanying around the half way mark, and the drums never let you forget they are there as part of the music, not just to maintain the beat: Their emphatic complimentary strokes and beats add direction and strength. Monk does a few things which are so Thelonious Monk, including a little disharmonious section just when the theme is really getting going – almost like he’s saying to the audience: “Well, did you hear that? What I just did there? No? Well, how about this? Still the tune, though – Ha!” All the time, the bass is constant and steady.

“I’m Getting Sentimental Over You” is simply lovely, with some slight syncopations and weird harmonies worked in but not enough to throw the listener. It’s a clever and very Monk-ish thing to do and many who followed take this little trick, which adds interest and variation. After the piano introduction, the track moves along with sax, bass and drums all adding their weight and input. The sax solo is again wonderful and demonstrates the choice Monk made was right for this quartet. The piano rises, drifts, crashes and falls away as Monk sees fit, and this is a beautifully woven track. It’s tight as velvet, smooth as silk and strong as sisal.

“Body and Soul” opens with Monk serving up a smorgasbord of styles and deliveries, all for the listener’s enjoyment. Trinkels, triplets for doubles, then some classic-influenced methodology, all delivered with a twist and put together in a way which many players wish they could. The great thing with Thelonious Monk is he plays in the moment, and you can almost feel his emotions chasing each other here. Gorgeous does not go near this. Sometimes, the thought that such a recording could have been lost is too much. Mønk is amazing.

“Monk’s Dream” is totally band-delivered. The quartet here display just how tight their bond is, with Rouse altering dynamics and taking the lead for much of the track, whilst Ore and Dunlop are tuned in, seeming to foresee Monk’s unpredictable shifts and turns, intertwining with one another and him effortlessly. It is testament to the caliber of the musicians that they smoothly and effortlessly take the cues which Monk distributes so liberally, but so quickly one after the other and do not let it phase them at all. This create a sense of ease and fluidity which could be lost with lesser players. There’s a reason this is considered to be the definitive Monk quartet – and “Monk’s Dream,” perhaps more than any other here, confirms it.

Lost recordings of this stature are rare, especially when it comes to major players like Monk, making this a treat for enthusiasts, Thelonious Monk followers, historians and music lovers. Credit goes to Gearbox, a vinyl-led label that cuts and masters using original analog machinery in their London studio.

“The original tape was a Scotch broadcast tape amongst a collection of delights we bought from a Danish producer who had literally picked them from a skip some 20 years ago. He was going to use them to sample and remix during the acid-jazz heyday but didn’t have time,” label founder Darrel Sheinman says. “This album represents several years of hard work: Firstly, to source the tape and clear the Monk-related rights issues, then to create a special all-analog recording which is analog all the way from the source to the stock on the shelf. AAA means Analog recording, Analog mix, Analog master – no digital in the path. We felt this was the only way to produce probably one of the best Monk renditions we have ever heard.”

I asked Shienman what he felt the recordings and release meant for the label, which has already been instigators in saving recordings from tapes, mastered using their own machines, for example, from BBC sessions which would have been lost to time due to the quality deteriorating. “Well, it is not a remaster, as it has never been out before. It is a milestone for the label,” Shienman said. “Whilst we have released other great jazz artists on the label such as Dexter Gordon, Michael Garrick and Tubby Hayes, we have never had one of the ‘holy trinity’ [of Miles Davis, John Coltrane and Thelonious Monk]. Special!”

I asked him how he feels it contributes to the already vast store of Monk music. Darrell simply said: “You can never have too much Monk.” On the process Shienman comments, “The quality was excellent. We did only minor tickling on the EQ [equalization, or balancing the sound]. All analogue, an easy mastering job.”

The liner notes for Mønk have been written by Ethan Iverson of the Bad Plus, and jazz writer Stephen Graham. The collector’s edition of the vinyl – limited to 500 copies worldwide – will also come with a previously unpublished, signature-embossed 30×30 print of Thelonious Monk by British journalist and photographer Val Wilmer. The record will also be pressed on audiophile, transparent vinyl and comes in a vintage style tip-on, hand-numbered sleeve. There will also be a standard vinyl/CD release and Mønk will exist on all digital streaming platforms as well.

The overriding sense here is the connection between the players. All great, all capable of filling (or emptying) a place at will, these masters of their instruments listen, interpret, and at times with uncanny foresight, seem to be there just a shade before Monk: They really “get” his playing, which took some doing at the time.

Some might wonder why recordings – especially “lost” recordings – are so important, and also ponder the fact that many artists made personal recordings and many recordings have been lost. But the fact is few musicians had such an influence as Thelonious Monk, and latterly John Coltrane, and this is why it is important that any recording – and, indeed, perhaps especially those kept (as the ‘Trane tapes) by the artist – are shared because those who have followed in their giant footsteps can have a sense of a clearer path. The gaps are filled and the picture is complete.

Of course, practice sessions, jams and collective ensembles are now lost to time, but the listener can, with the help of these recordings, gain more a sense of the progression of these artists and how they developed over time. The more you hear, the easier the path is to trace. Found recordings also instigate a fear in the listener – the fear that, had it not been for some peculiar twists of fate and uncanny collisions of events, recordings like Mønk could have been forever lost.