Ron Carter is tall, handsome, and dapper in a tweed suit that seems to glow copper. The man is 80 years old … Video

I’m sitting next to Ron Carter in the listening room at Manhattan dealer Audioarts, trying not to cry.

We’re listening to “All Blues,” the title track from Carter’s 1974 CTI release—a meditative rendition of the Miles Davis masterpiece that has been slowed-down and elongated in such a way that it practically pulls tears from eyes as easily as Carter pulls notes. It’s hard to believe that anyone other than Carter has ever touched this piece. Right now, it belongs entirely to him. The system through which we listen is doing a fine job of articulating Carter’s distinct combination of purpose and passion. To describe his performance as mere magic would be an insult to his craft, yet to focus too heavily on his discipline would be an injustice to his art.

Ron Carter is tall, handsome, and dapper in a tweed suit that seems to glow copper. The man is 80 years old, but if you told me he was 60, I’d bet younger. He speaks softly, but his voice resounds. When he gives you his attention, you feel alive—lit from within—and when he turns away, you crave more.

When the LP ends, I barely manage to articulate my gratitude, my awe.

“Sitting here,” I begin, “next to you, Mr. Carter, listening to your music through this system—” Holding back tears, I struggle to find the words. “It’s— it’s—”

“Otherworldly,” Carter says, finding just the right note.

Before we listened to his music, Ron Carter spoke on camera to Audioarts’ Gideon Schwartz and me about music, recording, and hi-fi: