Sun Ra

There is a spectral elegance woven through Fate In A Pleasant Mood, where Sun Ra balances gravity and weightlessness with a composer’s cunning hand. Cut in mid-1960s Chicago but not released until 1965, these tracks find Ra’s Myth Science Arkestra shifting from the familiar swing of their South Side origins into a sharper constellation of timeless, compact forms. Here, “Space Mates” twinkles with layered horn choreography while “Lights on a Satellite” pulses with an economy that feels part Ellington, part astral premonition. The effect is both intimate and expansive - a dance on the cusp of tradition and the threshold of the unknown, where every motif glows with the promise of new mythologies.​

Ra’s orchestrations highlight the Arkestra’s talents: Marshall Allen’s wiry alto sax and John Gilmore’s galaxy-streaked tenor orbit each composition, while Ronnie Boykins’ bass grounds the music with a bluesy, gravitational pull. Trumpeters Phil Cohran and George Hudson contribute brassy detail, transporting the ensemble from percussive ritual to proto-free improvisation with nimble authority. Yet it’s Sun Ra himself - sometimes on shimmering piano, sometimes conjuring percussion and bells - who reminds listeners that all boundaries in this music are meant to be crossed, blurred, or simply evaporated in pursuit of higher unity.​

Unlike the volcanic surges of later Arkestra recordings, Fate In A Pleasant Mood achieves cosmic lift-off by deploying restraint and lyric precision. Its arrangements shimmer with tight, melodic discipline even as they suggest hidden portals to outer realms: this is the sound of transition, where the mystery of orbit mingles harmoniously with the sharp jabs of post-bop experimentation. The title track and “Ankhnaton” meld ritual pulse with exquisite melancholy - testimony to Ra’s conviction that improvisation is itself a kind of stellar navigation, and ensemble interplay, a dialogue between cosmic forces.​ Restored and reissued anew, Fate In A Pleasant Mood offers one of the most approachable yet slyly profound entries in the Sun Ra catalog. It’s music that beckons both the neophyte and the longtime explorer, a small-scale epic where fate glimmers, not in dread, but in the luminous possibility of the ever-expanding now.​