A lot has been said about Miles Davis’ influence on jazz. Across his career, he was on the bleeding edge of several seismic shifts in the genre. And while much has been said about his accomplishments in bebop, cool jazz, and fusion, his brief foray into Third Stream jazz often feels like a sort of inconsequential detour in his overall trajectory.

But there’s nothing insignificant about Sketches of Spain. It is one of the most brightly shining gems in Davis’ illustrious career. The album finds him fully embracing his lifelong love of classical music, fused with his impeccable sense of style and melody.

Sketches of Spain wasn’t Davis’ first encounter with classic music, of course. He attended Julliard for a bit, before dropping out to play with Charlie Parker. That fascination was reignited in the late fifties by a series of collaborations with in-house Columbia Records arranger Gil Evans, of which this is the fourth—and the best. Despite confusion between the string players who didn’t know how to improvise and the jazz players who had a hard time following the arrangements, the record is transcendent.

As much as I love Miles Davis, this period of his career has always been a bit of a blip to me. His discography is an absolute labyrinth, and I just don’t have the time to keep up with his entire career. That’s why this record sat on my Discogs wantlist for over a decade until some kindly Secret Santa sent it for me this year. It was an especially fitting compliment for the jellyfish lamp my niece got me. It felt like I was watching Fantasia. And that’s high dang praise.