" data-original-title="" title="">Ben Sidran and I sit down for a conversation. It started when he turned 76, and we've done it ever since—capturing an ongoing record of where his head and heart are at that particular moment.

Over the years we've talked about music, memory, politics, travel, the craft of performing, and the art of living. These annual conversations have become a kind of time-lapse portrait: the same two people returning to the mic, but always a little changed.

This year, as Ben turns 82, the theme that emerges is that he is "still auditioning for the role of myself." We talk about what it means to keep creating, to remain curious, and to hold on to your sense of fun as the outside world speeds up and your personal world contracts.

Ben is, as always, the jazz philosopher.

"History is what we make of it and what we live every day," he tells me. "We're all feeling pain, and you can't deny it. [...] But the response to pain is something separate from the pain itself. And in that distance between the pain and the response to pain is where our work is."

He shares stories from his days hosting NPR's Jazz Alive and Sidran on Record (which was later repurposed as Talking Jazz), explains how he came to be the first person to record