21. Grant Green / Live at the Club Mozambique (2006)

Green's guitar style is fully developed in this live doc from 1971. His band vamps eminently danceable figures that give him carte blanche to work his trade. Green likes concise licks that accentuate the rhythm and carry the groove. He's fond of double-picked notes and fat slides, staccato figures that stop on a dime, or bluesy runs that play between the bars in cleverly syncopated phrases. It's full speed ahead from "Jan Jan" on, and the energy never subsides. The horns are really tight, and my favorite track is Thomas' composition "Farid," which has room for both tenormen, the dark and swirling organ work of wildman Ronnie Foster, as well as a heavy helping of Idris Muhammad, rattling like a mystical machine gun on the traps, both melodically and rhythmically. The formula here is a far cry from Grant's First Stand and doesn't quite touch Alive, but it absolutely sizzles with a new strain of soul that fearlessly carries the Green into the new decade. Many of these are R&B staples, but restated and renewed. Try the euphoric "Walk on By" and you'll see what I mean.

20. Miles Davis / The New Miles Davis Quintet (1956)

The maiden voyage on wax by the famous first quintet is short, sweet, and relaxed. It's still a young group as far as studio work was concerned so the set is fairly vanilla but hides a few gems, like Benny Golson's "Stablemates" and "The Theme," which is probably the hottest take on the disc. The performances hardly hint at what the band was capable of in a live setting, but Miles solos frequently and I really enjoy his thoughtful way with phrasing the ballads. Coltrane was still fishing for his voice and sounds a mite green compared to a few years later, but you can hear the pieces he's setting up. Another highlight is the opener, Ellington's "Just Squeeze Me." It has Chambers walking some coy figures on the bass while Philly Joe is keen to join the fun with the kick and snare, also playing some cool syncopated figures on the hi-hat. Overall, it's a smooth but enjoyable cruise and is sometimes so restrained that the rhythm section stands out more than the front line.

19. Joe Henderson / Power to the People (1969)

Power to the People implicates Henderson in the new jazz of the late sixties, and in hindsight, speaks for his versatility in different forms of jazz. It's also very accessible and easy to enjoy. Overall I think it's successful, and it holds up to a lot of repeat listening. The band is Henderson, Jack DeJohnette, Herbie Hancock, Mike Lawrence, and Ron Carter. These are certainly players who are capable of stretching out and pushing themselves into new areas. Henderson's playing is clean and lyrical, boldly assertive and individualistic. The ponderous "Black Narcissus" meanders like a dreamy tone poem. I lose the musicality a little bit in the suite on Side 2, but appreciate the passion Henderson puts into it. Herbie Hancock is also notable here, being the first electric instrument on a Henderson album. He is nearly isolated in the left channel, and his interplay is stimulating.

18. Nancy Wilson / Nancy Wilson & Cannonball Adderley (1962)

Wilson appears with Cannonball and brother Nat, singing six of 11 selections. The remaining instrumentals are the stock and trade of the Cannonball Adderley Quintet, a group that prospered playing hard bop with a heavy helping of blues and soul. The addition of a vocalist produces a velvety sophistication that is very appealing. Wilson's songs are dustier selections that depart somewhat from standard fare and make a cracking good program. Most importantly, the chemistry between Wilson and the quintet really cooks. Nat uses the mute to good effect, augmenting his brassy tone with an even more strident edge ("Never Say Yes"), while Cannonball tears through some hot leads of his own on (like "Teaneck" and "Unit 7"). Wilson seems right at home in this setting, her voice like just another instrument in the front line. She is gifted with an expressive range, as in "(I'm Afraid) the Masquerade is Over" where she quietly laments her blues with Zawinul tinkling in the background, ultimately breaking into the next register, climaxing, and bringing the song to a thunderous close. Wow.

17. John Coltrane / Soultrane (1958)

Coltrane's Prestige releases get overlooked unfairly, usually by the same people who prefer his innovative compositions or wilder explorations like those on Blue Train or Giant Steps. But if someone who honestly enjoys jazz can still relegate Soultrane to the sideline after hearing the unbridled modality of "Russian Lullaby" or 10+ minutes of pure soul in Eckstine's "I Want to Talk About You," then maybe that person would be better served by another type of music. The music on Soultrane is stunning, and a great starting point to understand modal soloing in jazz, a ferocious technique that Ira Gitler described as "sheets of sound." Garland, Chambers and Taylor back up Coltrane heroically and have a keen sixth sense for what he is doing. The set is comprised of covers, including a few cooky ones like the aforementioned "Russian Lullaby" or Broadway's "You Say You Care." These bring a strong, focused urgency to the program, a quality that is always present in Coltrane's work but is laid plain in the standards.

16. Gerry Mulligan & Paul Desmond / Quartet (1957)

The story in the notes has it that one night, Mulligan sat in with Brubeck's band and after they hit it off so well, Mulligan and Desmond decided to do a record together. The resulting collaboration is that of two intensely lyrical players. The album proceeds like a conversation in thoughtful melodic phrases, and the magic is all in the melody. We get a few contrafacts (like Desmond's "Battle Hymn of the Republican" a reworking of "Tea for Two"), some mutual favorites (like the exquisite "Body and Soul"), and a lot of improvised counterpoint between Mulligan and Desmond. It's exciting how well the pieces fit together and the tone of the baritone mixed with the alto sounds really sweet. Dave Bailey and Joe Benjamin do the rhythm, same as when Chet Baker was in Desmond's chair. If you listen to those recordings, you can hear the remarkable difference that chemistry makes. The two groups don't sound as similar as one might expect. The Mulligan-Desmond partnership produced a few "sequels" which are very good, but I think this first outing captured their intentions the best.  

15. Nat Adderley / Introducing Nat Adderley (1955)

It was released under Nat's name but the Brothers Adderley really split the bill here, including most of the composition credits. It's solid hard bop and sounds a lot like what other New York groups were doing in 1955, but this beautiful example has aged very well. The other three comprising the quintet are Horace Silver, Paul Chambers, and Roy Haynes. Together, they make one of those 'perfect' jazz groups like the classic Coltrane quartet or first Miles Davis quintet. Nat's trumpet work is fresh, brassy and forthright, Cannonball is his usual slippery and blues inflected self, using a combination of Birdlike runs in the higher register with. In fact, both brothers play with a satisfying helping of blues and soul. I listen to the accomplished playing on this disc, tracks like the autobiographical "Two Brothers" or "New Arrivals," or the ballad "I Should Care," and it's easy to see how New York's band leaders and other players took so quickly to the Adderleys right when they arrived, moves which put them on the map for the recording labels.  

14. Chet Baker / Chet (1958)

I find Chet in a lot of those "best of" lists that describe it as essential listening, which I have a hard time understanding. I have mixed feelings about Baker, whose playing is often delicately soulful or angelic, but to my ears, lacks a crucial distinguishing feature. I've listened to many his records from the '50s on up, and this ballads-only outing from 1958 is immaculately performed and rather beautiful, but not terribly exciting. Still, it's the Baker album that gets the most play around my house. His band keeps a lid on their playing, which compresses the emotional impact of each ballad and causes them to smolder. Bill Evans, master of the devastating understatement, plays piano while Pepper Adams plays baritone. There isn't a tenor in sight, so the textures are a nice change of pace and along with the trumpet. make quite a romantic atmosphere. The group has a nose like a bloodhound to sniff out the heart of the ballad and lay it bare before the audience. In such a way, a few of these old chestnuts really shine, which is a good thing because there aren't any surprises in the playlist.

13. Hank Mobley / Soul Station (1960)

The title Soul Station sounds like something out of the Jimmy Smith catalog, doesn't it? But it isn't soul jazz. Hank Mobley did not lead his own group often, and this statement of purpose really pops him out. Art Blakey, known to go full bore with the hard sticks, is more restrained and along with Chambers, carries a very laid back but swinging groove for Mobley to steer from the top. Wynton Kelly spreads out behind Mobley, playing a lush accompaniment of chords and his own bluesy licks. Mobley's technique is at the fore of the group, subtly kneading and stretching the signatures like dough. "Spirit Feelin's" has some good playing from everyone, including a short but terrific solo from Blakey. It is followed by the title track, a smoking slow blues jam that reminds me a little bit of Johnny Griffin's "Satin Wrap." But Mobley's patient phrasing and rhythmical construction are wholly different from Griffin's. The album closes with "If I Should Lose You," a standard that is treated similarly to the opener.

12. Duke Ellington / Three Suites

Here we have interpretations of "Nutcracker" and "Peer Gynt," along with the Duke's own "Suite Thursday." Ellington and Strayhorn have the uncanny arranger's sense for wrapping an original composer's ideas around a new score. Yet this classical-to-jazz amalgam goes beyond Gershwin and is apart from what I consider the third stream. It's a new concept of jazz orchestration that sings to the strengths of the soloists, who do a magnificent job breathing life into the music while avoiding the pitfalls of stereotyping. The score crackles with imagination and the performances are a credit to the band as much as the leader. The notion of Paul Gonsalves blowing a chorus for ballet (listen to the rechristened "Peanut Brittle Brigade") is a tough sell on paper, but to hear it executed with success is an inspired feat of musicianship. Grieg's work is treated with similar respect, retaining atmosphere with reimagined orchestral textures, bursting with big chords and hot solos. I grin hearing the archetypal "Hall of the Mountain King," and I have either Carl Stalling or Nintendo's Tetris to thank for that.

11. Frank Morgan / Love, Lost & Found (1995)

Love, Lost & Found is a slow burn with real rewards. It's a lot of ballads, but the group is too good to pigeon hole the set as "just" a bunch of ballads. In fact, if you look at the playlist, you'll find they're actually love songs. The group is ideally constructed. Morgan's alto playing is mature and sublimely emotional. He glides through syrupy phrases and slick double-time runs with finesse. His technique sounds like he is actually speaking through the horn, emoting his blues. Support on the album is much the same: from Ray Brown, soloing early in "The Nearness of You," and Cedar Walton, who blocks his way through comps and guides the songs rhythmically much the way that Red Garland once did. Billy Higgins works closely with Brown and uses a combination of brushes and hard sticks to create the perfect swinging, lovesick and rainy percussive accompaniment. There's some variety too, like the Latin-inflected groove of "What is this Thing Called Love?" or dark blues of Anton Carlos Jobim's "Once I Loved." As far as Morgan goes, Yardbird Suite is excellent, but don't overlook this album, either.

10. Louis Armstrong All-Stars / Live at the 1958 Monterey Jazz Festival (2007)

Thankfully, the editors retained the live banter between songs. Louis had a running routine, so the talk is integral to the concert. Of course, it's entertaining, too, whether a poke about Bing Crosby in Technicolor, or an anecdotal alligator. On this night, both band and crowd are having a ball, and when I crank up the volume, I feel like I'm right there with them. Musically, like a dancing haystack, the All-Stars have a knack for being the tightest and loosest group around. They play everything with a freewheeling abandon that shuffles along gloriously, as if it any moment it might burst apart. The show consists of chestnuts: from the obligatory "When It's Sleepy Time Down South" and "(Back Home Again In) Indiana," to "Perdido," and "Autumn Leaves." It wouldn't be Pops without "Tiger Rag," either, which is played with a loose claptrap fueled by Danny Barcelona stomping on the drums. A lot was changing for jazz in 1958, so hearing a statesman like Louis at the height of his powers is a pretty special experience. 

09. Dizzy Gillespie & His Orchestra / A Portrait of Duke Ellington (1960)

This is a portrait of Dizzy Gillespie doing Duke Ellington, and the set doesn't sound a bit like Ellington or Billy Strayhorn. I'm impressed with how clearly Gillespie's voice comes through. For instance, Ellington may have written it, but when he plays the sparse and striking "Things Ain't What They Used to Be," it's all Gillespie's blues. The 15-piece orchestra seems a touch soft or underutilized in Fisher's charts, certainly not as punchy as the Duke's band, but a few of his patiently developed arrangements create additional melancholic depth ("Chelsea Bridge" and "Come Sunday" come to mind). All arrangements put a focus on the leader, and to this end the result is dazzling. Playful orchestral counterpoint is notable in "Caravan," followed by some of the Dizzy's most beautiful playing in "Sophisticated Lady."

08. Sun Ra / Purple Night (1990)

Purple Night is a late period recording of an impressive 22-piece Arkestra, and it's a gem. Its superior audio quality bears mentioning in comparison to the wealth of Sun Ra material that is well performed, but poorly rendered on disc. Astute listeners will note the title recalls Night of the Purple Moon, and likewise, four of its tracks ("Journey Toward the Stars," "Love in Outer Space," "Stars Fell on Alabama," and "Purple Night Blues") are done in a relatively conventional, small group setting that stylistically approaches the mainstream. But Purple Night is far more adventurous. Don Cherry, John Ore and Julian Priester are on hand and help frame Ra within the greater context of his work in the jazz idiom. The closing track on side two features him alone with Ore and walking the blues, a working proof of Ra's role as musician, visionary, and, perhaps to some, enigma.

07. Johnny Griffin / Johnny Griffin (1958)

This very early Johnny Griffin disc has me under its spell. Griffin imparts the music with a distinctive, bluesy swing that stands out among other luminary reedmen, a serious, down-to-earth style that speaks equally to the heart and gut. His roots in Chicago R&B are prominently displayed in the bouncing "Lollypop" and tough swing of "Satin Wrap," but a gentle finesse with the ballad is displayed in "These Foolish Things," a modly oldie that, surprisingly, does not sound one bit worse for the wear. Throughout the proceedings, Little Giant articulates his affection for musical fireworks by executing blazing runs with superhuman acuity, and fleshes out his phrasing with vibrant splashes of harmonic color. Junior Mance supports on the piano with blocks of chords and twinkling right hand forays, while Wilbur Ware (who gets a spot in "Riff-Raff") and Buddy Smith keep the whole thing afloat, rhythmically. Dear Verve, please put this CD back in print.

05. Rabih Abou-Khalil / Bukra (1988)

Rabih Abou-Khalil's contributions to the vast world music palette are all so consistently good, yet at the same time, the sound and presiding mood of each one is distinct from the next. I'm always excited to hear one that is new to me. With Bukra, American jazz instrumentation and improvisational technique from Sonny Fortune (alto) melds together with Abou-Khalil's oud in Arabic flavored rhythms and melodies. They are supported by bassist Glen Moore and percussionists Glen Velez and Ramesh Shotham, who chase and tumble like skylarks in pursuit of the rhythm. Moore, a founding member in the Oregon ensemble, is certainly comfortable within this context. But everyone's talents are capitalized: Shotham's interest in jazz and rock, Velez's career proficiency with diverse world musics, and Fortune's jazz background are all harnessed to their full potential. Look out for Fortune's impassioned solo in "Nayla," or his alarming intro to "Kibbeh." Due to the oud's fast decay, in longer passages, Abou-Khalil employs juicy slides and bouts of tremolo picking that produce different textures and affect his choice of phrasing. His pensive and aptly titled "Reflections" closes the album, which always causes me to sit in silence for a few minutes, as if watching the musical caravan vanish in the dark distance.

04. Kenny Burrell / Midnight Blue (1963)

An album long in the making, according to the liner notes, and by the leader's decision, the selections were limited strictly to the blues. For this reason, I think putting Stanley Turrentine on tenor sax was an especially wise choice. When I listen to Midnight Blue, I'm listening to Turrentine's soulful attack and swinging timing as much as I'm listening to Burrell's guitar. Turrentine aside, there is notable variety in the arrangements, and a few tracks even work to the exclusion of one or more players. I'm impressed with the variety of different moods and textures the Burrell group can coax out of a single musical form, a testament to the power of the blues. Differences in mood between "Chitlins Con Carne," "Gee Baby Ain't I Good to You," and the quietly heartfelt solo voice of "Soul Lament" are simply flooring.

03. Lester Young / Blue Lester: The Immortal Lester Young (1949)

I'm often skeptical of compilations featuring old jazzmen that worked in a lot of different settings, but the selections here seem to stick with the theme and do justice to Young's versatility and talent as a soloist. There's a few nostalgic moments, like "Back Home Again in Indiana," which I always associate with Pops, but is generously endowed with swing by the Count Basie Band. There's a smattering of ballads, stomp, and swing, and hints of emerging modern jazz. The playlist ends with three big band arrangements ("Circus in Rhythm," "Poor Little Plaything," and "Tush") that shed further light on Lester's versatility as both small group soloist and essential ensemble player. My only complaint is that the album is too short. 

02. The Carla Bley Band / European Tour 1977 (1978)

European Tour 1977 is an easy album to take to. Carla's organ swirls and growls in the background, and with help from pianist Terry Adams (who does an admirable job of carrying the shambling groove), she occasionally does parts with the tenor sax. She uses voicings that are alternately sublime or spooky, and runs amok behind the front line soloists. The music is typical of the 1970s Carla Bley Band, a polyphony of mutual contributions that are playfully moody, eccentric, and make a topsy-turvy ride filled with colorful textures and abrupt shifts into wild extemporizing from Elton Dean, John Clark, and Gary Windo. It's joyously free while remaining remarkably accessible, if the word "free" really needs to be qualified.  On "Star Spangled Minor," the assembled brasses, squalling reeds and raging drum kit recall Albert Ayler's interpretations of spirituals and simple Americana, reclaimed and expanded, a newly enfranchised musical Frankenstein. Indeed, members of Bley's band (Gary Windo, Elton Dean) are no strangers to the avant-garde or Ayler, and are easily comfortable with this type of music.    

01. Charlie Parker / The Complete Savoy and Dial (2002)

Charlie Parker's light went out while he was still young, so his recordings are condensed, roughly, inside of a single decade. That's still a lot music if you include previously unissued live recordings, studio outtakes, etc. But the short career makes the Parker oeuvre relatively digestible compared to that of say, Dizzy Gillespie, who worked for 50 years. So I'm happy that we have this compilation of all the Savoy and Dial sides, a trump-all set that makes the job of digestion so much easier. If you're new to Bird, then start here. Collectors and academic listeners will prefer the complete recordings (splurge a hundred bucks for those) while anyone just wanting to hear the music, without the clams, false starts and other glorious mistakes, will pick the Master Takes for a third of the price.

Good morning, and hello.

I remember a line by Paul Desmond where he said he always wanted to sound like a dry martini. If you listen to Desmond's alto, especially in the '50s when he perfected his velvety tone, you know he picked the perfect words. I wish I could proffer a description as eloquent or concise as Desmond's. But I love jazz, and I love talking about it with anyone who'll listen, so I'd like to try my hand: a review a day, for a year. If I succeed and still have enough albums to listen to, then I'll do another year. To make it interesting, each review is capped at 10 sentences.