46. Donald Byrd / Byrd's Word (1955)

It was announced that Mr. Byrd passed away early this month. Before his role in jazz education and outreach, Byrd was a noted session leader and prolific collaborator. Byrd's Word (not to be confused with Charlie Byrd's Byrd's Word! from 1958) is an early disc of his that was recorded for Savoy in 1955 and shows his original, pre-funk style on the open trumpet. When a guy has a good tone, I love to hear him use it. That's the case here, although his licks are understated compared to his pyrotechnics on other people's dates, like Coltrane's exemplary "Lush Life." Chambers plays bass, Basie alum Frank Foster and the versatile Hank Jones do tenor and piano, with Kenny Clarke on drums. Byrd's "Gotcha Goin' n' Comin'" is a bluesy exercise in mood and rhythm that seems to be as much about Clarke and Chambers, as it is about Byrd. There's a lot of space in the middle and it's heavy on the atmosphere. But once it whispers goodbye, the followup is the jolting "Long Green" that sounds straight off one of the Charlie Parker Savoys. Foster is a versatile player who can play bop as well as he can do hard swing or ballads. There's room for everyone, before the album closes with "Star Eyes" and the beautiful "Someone to Watch Over Me." The latter is my favorite cut on the album, but it works only if I listen to the whole album first. It's a fitting closer to the preceding program, featuring a sentimental intro from Byrd, a moving legato chorus from Foster and one from Chambers, then the go-lightly contributions of Jones and all, who carry it out and are careful not to break the magic. Overall it's a very loose hard bop session that's probably easy to forget and may be similar to other groups, but is superbly rendered.

45. Cannonball Adderley / Somethin' Else (1958)

I listen to this at least once a month, an album that is still fresh so many years after it was made, and a bona fide classic by many accounts. Like Kind of Blue, if I had to, I could hum the whole thing from memory. Their flavors are similar in more ways than one, yet the two records aren't really anything alike. But here it certainly feels like Miles is the leader. The patient tempos, arrangement style, and selections all speak to Davis' direction. He even takes the first choruses. The drum chair is Art Blakey this time, with Hank Jones on piano and Sam on bass. Like Kind of Blue, when Davis goes first, it gives Adderley some lines to think about, propelling him into new areas. Davis' own choruses are a mixture of pensive statements through the mute, or beautifully full-bodied open horn. Listen to Davis and Adderley trading licks on brother Nat's "Blues for Daddy-O," the smokey noir of "Autumn Leaves" or doing call and response on the Davis penned title track. Art Blakey was the perfect choice as drummer, and assertively swings the procession with his snare and hi hat, while Hank and Sam work closely tying up the other end. The mood of "Autumn Leaves" is largely created by the good work of Hank Jones, which never seems to end. Together these songs are a remarkable synthesis of talent and chemistry that's one of the best enduring works of jazz.

44. Harold Land / West Coast Blues! (1960)

Half the group is from New York and the other half from California, but the session doesn't sound like a novel meeting of East and West, and they actually sound like they know each other pretty well. Land is a good leader. He developed his own approach to hard bop on the tenor and was a prolific composer. This record features three of his compositions. He plays with a strong sense for the rhythm, and the influence of the blues haunts each lick. The opener is the sexy but hard swinging "Ursula," as good an introduction to Land's tone and style as any. He gets down to bop and rhythmic counterpoint by next covering Charlie Parker's complicated "Klactoveedsedstene." It's nice to hear Montgomery do a Charlie Parker composition because Bird was such a big influence on him, and of course, he's right at home. Joe Gordon takes some flashy solos and also plays nicely in unison with Land. In Land's provocative tone is the quality of a high harmonic that sounds like a signal just on the verge of breaking up, giving the music an urgency that isn't lost in the fullness of the whole sound. His style is bop-oriented and fluid, but very accessible, a clear intermediary between the music and the audience. 

43. Thad Jones / The Fabulous Thad Jones (1958)

This LP is collated from two sessions recorded by Rudy Van Gelder in 1954 and 1955. Group 1 is Jones, Charles Mingus, John Dennis and Max Roach. Although Jones leads the session, it feels strongly like Mingus is at the helm. The group is rhythmcally direct, playing a mixture of standards and Thad Jones originals. The spotlight is on Jones for every track, although "I Can't Get Started" stretches out with some interesting interplay between Jones and Mingus, and has tempo changes that lean the way Miles Davis did with his "Basin Street Blues." Jones plays evocatively with and without a mute, and shows off a only a little bit. Group 2 is Jones, Mingus, Hank Jones, Kenny Clarke, and the tenor sax and flute of Frank Wess (a la Hank Jones with Frank Wess). It's a somewhat softer, lush and casual small-group swing that excels in the ballads. This band sounds gelled and confident due to the players' associations in the Basie band. Together, the two bands make a good album that doesn't sound disjointed or uneven, although their differences are plain.

42. Lester Young with the Oscar Peterson Trio (1952)

For the most part, this disc is all about Lester, who performs admirably but is noticeably shakier and lacks that bright, bursting energy he exhibited a few years earlier. He frequents the lower register in soft, emotionally inflected lines that give the ballads a uniquely personal treatment. It's unmistakably Lester on every track and there is some very keen playing ("I'm Confessin' (That I Love You)" is just one example, or a close approximation of the man we once knew in "Just You, Just Me") but in other places I hear him struggle with timing and the impact of the inventiveness is lost. The dramatic ascents and nose dives he used to do so well seem to sputter like an injured bird, rather than a stunt pilot. Young usually takes the first chorus, and sometimes afterwards I swear I can hear Peterson and Kessel emulating his style on their instruments, playing several "even" bars before throwing the rhythmic weight of the next phrase off to one side and rushing in after it. Even if he isn't in the same form as the recordings from 1946-1949, he's still Lester Young and when it works, it's untouchable.

41. Jack Teagarden & Bobby Hackett / The Complete Fifties Studio Recoridings (2004)

With notable exceptions, I'm not a huge fan of dixieland. At least, it's not the first jazz I reach for every time. Six or seven freewheeling improvisors that are each so close to the melody can wear thin on me after a few tracks, and I long for the organization of a hard bop quartet. But a band this good and this experienced brings out something special in the music. A big winner is the fact that it was recorded in the 50s, and the superior audio quality means I can actually hear what all those "other guys" are doing behind the soloist. Teagarden is unrivaled on the trombone, and has a stand-up voice for singing songs like "Basin Street Blues" and "St. James Infirmary." I love listening to him sing, and there's a reassuring quality in his voice. Hackett's open horn is gloriously full toned and his solos, like those of Teagarden and Matty Matlock, are boldly effervescent and daring. Teagarden uses a few different techniques on his own instrument, adding life and spontaneous joy to every bar. This collection should be on every jazz listener's shelf, right next to the Louies, Pee Wee Russells, and Eddie Condons. There's actually several LPs worth of material here (23 songs), so if you like it then invite some friends over because there's plenty to go around.

40. Joe Harriott / Cool Jazz with Joe (1954)

Harriott is a shady figure in American jazz circles, unknown except to the most academically inclined fans of post-bop, or attentive listeners of the avant-garde and free jazz a bit later. Harriott, a British alto by way of Kingston, Jamaica, could do both. In straight ahead mode, he played with dazzling fluidity and a laid back, bluesy sensibility, combining Birdlike flights into the upper register with dancing snatches of melody that walked down again in idiosyncratic syncopations immediately recalling those of a mento band. When I listen to this early EP, I hear licks that I've never heard anyone else do. Here he plays four standards with his working group, including the equally talented but no less obscure pianist, Dill Jones. While a cursory glance at the liner seems to fulfill the lie that British jazz musicians would forever emulate their American counterparts, Harriott forges ahead with a deftly original set that begs you to reconsider. Fractions of a second behind the beat a bit like Hank Mobley would later do, Harriott is a stylist whose impact one can only speculate upon, had he been based in New York, and not London. The opener "April in Paris" has bold melodic statements from Harriott who occasionally emphasizes another, more danceable rhythm he sees lurking just below the surface, accentuating the relationship with figures of repeated notes, catching the attention of drummer Phil Seamen in the process. "Out of Nowhere" sees Harriott treating us again with Caribbean inclinations. The evocative "Summertime" features some moody work by Dill Jones, and the ubiquitous "Cherokee" frames Harriott's chops in the quintessential bebop composition. This EP is out of print, but is available (along with a herd of others) from the good people of the BritJazz blog. Please pay them a visit for the download link, and drop them a line to say thanks while you're at it.

39. Joe Lovano Nonet / Live on this Day at the Village Vanguard (2003)

This is the way a live album should sound. I've never been to the Village Vanguard (one day) but the place looks nice and small. That said, Joe's nonet must have peeled the paint off the walls. How'd they all fit on the stage, with a baritone, piano, and drum kit? Talk about crowded, and the music is crowded, too. Real crowded... but it works. Think: "Subway after a football game crowded," or "Mingus Big Band crowded." The nonet is a small big band that wants to behave like a big small band, so when it gets rolling and all nine pieces try to turn the corner at once (listen to "Good Bait"), it comes nigh to spilling into the street. There's so much energy present, and the power of the whole group blowing at once is daunting and impressive. Steve Slagle on alto is a great foil for Lovano, and there are some really good solos by baritone Scott Robinson. In the midst of the melee don't overlook the group's rhythmic inspiration, which is provided by pianist John Hicks and drummer Lewis Nash. Lovano is a powerful leader in any context, but I've always felt he sounds most at home when leading a big group like this one.  

38. Miles Davis / Ballads (1990)

Talk about the quintessential nonessential Miles Davis CD, this is it. Columbia compiled a scanty eight tracks recorded between 1961 and '63, and released them here with a ballads-only theme. Very little about Miles Davis in the sixties sounds dated or anachronistic to my ears, but in today's climate of iPods and customized playlists, such a compilation album doesn't have the same role it did in 1990. And this product, as a whole, hasn't aged well even if the opposite is true for the selections themselves. I say it didn't age well but I'm not sure it would have made sense 20 years ago, either. First, it's an odd choice of material if you're trying to showcase what Davis could do with a ballad. Five tracks by the Gil Evans orchestra, two by the quintet with George Coleman and a live cut by the Mobley quintet is a rather baffling sequence. Are we doing Evans, or a club date? Because the two are so unlike each other that the program seems interrupted when the group changes. The very context of the Gil Evans orchestra was so different than that of a street group, any street group, that a ballad within its fold is a thing transmuted, a wholly different musical animal. Good work from everyone involved musically, but shame on Columbia for ever selling this.

37. Duke Ellington / Ellington Uptown (1952)

It seems like Ellington Uptown gets short shrift, which could put off a listener who hasn't heard it. It really needs another look because it's an excellent album, and the orchestration and arrangements are especially good. Duke's work is like pizza: when it's good it's great and when it's bad... well, was it ever bad? Be honest. Even when it wasn't that great, it was still better than most everything else. By comparison, I think some of Duke's legacy is unfairly praised. All the "three minute masterpieces" are cracking good sides, but they're not all on the same level, and so the mediocre ones are elevated to a higher status partly by association and partly by critics who haven't listened to them all. Yet Duke's work from the 1950's languishes in the shadows, right at the moment when his famous soloists had matured and were really hitting a stride. With that in mind, this set swings really hard and practically lifts you off the floor. The arrangements are the full-length concert arrangements, closer to what the band was doing on stage rather than something they cooked up just for the record. There's even a live cut ("Skin Deep") with a famous drum solo by Louie Bellson. My favorite moment, on an album filled with favorite moments, is listening to Betty Roche sing "Take the 'A' Train." She had such a fun and playful style, like improvising a scat vocal that self consciously stabs at bebop. I love it when she sings her last line and leans off the microphone as the massed band blows in behind her. It sounds like the girl is falling backwards into an approaching tidal wave. So enjoy these chestnuts, which may be another example of Duke reinterpreting his back catalog, but are also a darned good example of what this band was all about.  

36. Henry Threadgill Sextett / Rag, Bush and All (1989)

Mr. Threadgill turns his attention to the possibilities of composing for a jazz sextet, laying aside his penchant for world percussion and other unconventional orchestration. There aren't any frame drums and you won't find an oud, but between Threadgill's bass flute, the bass trombone (Bill Lowe's sole obligation), string bass, cello, and flugelhorn, the instrumental colors are focused in the lower ranges. Add two drummers and shake, and the recipe really works -- bright splashes from Threadgill's alto and Ted Daniels' cornet create a high flavor that is joined by Diedre Murry, whose free explorations on the cello wouldn't sound out of place with Henry Cow. Fred Hopkins, no stranger to interplay with Murry or Threadgill, was always a creative improviser, and uses the full range of the instrument, playing so percussively that you'd think he was a percussionist himself. Threadgill's abilities as composer and arranger are ever apparent, playfully alternating between snatches of melody and bumpy sections of turbulent rhythmic counterpoint. When the soloists open up in later sections of "The Devil is on the Loose and Dancin' with a Monkey," maybe it's the horn and twin drummers, but the music feels a smidge like that of the second Miles Davis Quintet. And in the sections surrounding Threadgill's chorus in "Sweet Holy Rag," the drums and winds play slightly out of phase and recall effect of the opening track on Davis' Nefertiti, that of an unsettling and self-propelled whole that creeps along like a caterpillar and demands the ear's attention. During collective improvisations, the musicians have their ears wide open, and the product is a busy and tantalizing melee of interwoven phrases and meters that step above one person simply jumping into line behind the next.  "Gift" is the shortest piece on the record, a beautifully dirge-like spell of bowed strings, chimes, and arranged winds that is overshadowed by the 12-minute tempests on either side of it. Yet again I listen to an album like this one with such interesting compositions and wish it was available to new generations of jazz composers and musicians, but shake my head in awe of the fact that it has lapsed out of print. There are numerous groups in modern jazz that could adapt these tunes nicely.

35. Stanley Turrentine / Look Out! (1960)

Look Out! is a good title, and the set list is what first jumped out at me. Sandwiched between Turrentine originals like the title track and "Little Sheri" are contemporary jazz compositions and covers that don't get around much. For instance, "Tiny Capers" is a nice one by the much missed Clifford Brown, and "Journey into Melody" is an offbeat selection by the prolific movie score composer Robert Farnon. Regarding the latter, I've never heard anyone else ever cover it. In a jazz album, I like that kind of variety and Turrentine's focus on melodic variation and a soulful technique give it plenty of lift. He's not alone -- Turrentine veteran Al Harewood really swings on the hi hat and hard stick rolls, sounding much like he did with Art Farmer and Gigi Gryce a few years earlier, but coolly and thoughtfully adapted to the particular demands of Turrentine's hybrid of hard bop and the emerging soul jazz. It's a straight ahead session, one of the best of the year on Blue Note and the reissue deserves a second look. Oh! I nearly forgot: they call Turrentine the Silver Flash, and you've got to love that.

34. Milt Jackson & John Coltrane / Bags and Trane (1961)

Released after My Favorite Things, Giant Steps, and Coltrane Jazz, this collaboration was recorded in 1959, and was actually the first album to be recorded by Coltrane on his new contract with Atlantic. It was sensible to wait until '61 to release it. Because while it's very good music, blues and standards by a quintet, and the exchange of ideas between Trane and Bags during improvisations makes it a few cuts above what it could be, given their prior associations, this album doesn't make the same splash. He wasn't their guy anymore, so you could view it as a safe play for Atlantic while Coltrane was en route to Impulse. I don't understand why Atlantic altered the sequence of the original LP when they released the CD, but they did. In this case, I don't think it matters. The Bags-penned blues numbers like "Late Late Blues" and "Blues Legacy" are my favorites. It seems that no matter where they were in the music, the blues were never very far behind either player, and that's a good thing. 

33. The Dave Brubeck Quartet / Jazz: Red Hot and Cool (1955)

Recorded live at New York's Basin Street club across three nights, this quartet isn't the same one that gelled on "Take Five," but the Joe Dodge/Bob Bates team sounds fine and contributes to the Brubeck formula admirably with rhythmical inspiration and some interesting polyrhythmic steering from Dodge. The pieces for the Morello-Wright band are already in place, like polytonality, polyrhythm and fugue-like structures. But these were already present during the days of the Dave Brubeck Octet, and earlier still during formative late nights at the Blackhawk. So if you're into Brubeck then there's plenty of good music here to enjoy. Sonny Rollins is credited in the notes of Saxophone Colossus for being the first jazz musician to develop his improvisations with an ear toward their musicality, as spontaneous compositions. That makes sense if Ira Gitler wasn't looking at the West Coast where Brubeck was doing exactly that. Full shifts in signatures mid tune, Desmond responding on the fly to Brubeck's harmonic cues -- as Brubeck's groups ever were, interesting music that rewards deep listening. 

32. The Jimmy Giuffre 3 / The Easy Way (1959)

The Easy Way is darned sneaky, the way it passes so quietly upon first listening. The music is so sparse that it stops your breath like a stillborn moment, a feeling almost too sparse, but the second time around, that same quality forces a closer inspection and reveal ongoing relationships of very dynamic interplay at the heart of the chemistry. I keep going back to it. In this 1959 session, Giuffre swaps bassist Ralph Pena for Ray Brown, trading the busy sound of Pena for Brown's commanding and bluesy style. They work with it. On "Ray's Time" we get an extra dose of the Ray dimension while Jim Hall comps and Giuffre lays out. When Giuffre is playing he is taking a lot of ideas from Brown and Hall, who turn them right back around. The album is divided into two distinct halves: the first comprised of blues like the Ray tune and standards like "Mack the Knife," and a more exploratory or section, marked by "Time Enough," "Montage," and "Off Center."

31. Wes Montgomery / Boss Guitar (1963)

This is a really slick album by the Wes Montgomery trio, one of four recorded with organist Melvin Rhyne. Montgomery takes most of the leads, although Rhyne does get a few. When he does, he doesn't use the draw bars much, although he plays a great bass accompaniment on the pedals and occasionally uses the bars while interplaying with Jimmy Cobb or comping. So it's pretty much Wes Montgomery, right up front, all the time. Most of the tunes are standards except for two. It's accessible music of the funky and soulful variety that Wes purveyed across his career. The music is so smooth that it's almost easy to ignore if Montgomery wasn't so good, and Jimmy Cobb certainly keeps listeners awake on the drum kit. He does the octave picking a little bit, but does more blues-based riffing and plays some very spontaneous figures in the upper register that remind me of alto saxophone technique. "Besame Mucho" is the standout mark of a seasoned professional and Montgomery's own "The Trick Bag" really heats up. From the looks of things, I think Rhyne and Cobb like "Trick Bag," too. 

30. Zoot Sims / Whooeee! (1956)

Zoot Sims always got it right. The albums were consistently excellent and already on the early ones he was confident and mature. His phrasing was economical and concise, driven by the melody and carried by a sweet, full tone. Did this guy ever play a clam? It's almost frustrating. Whooeee! is rare in the US but you can find it on Four Classic Albums by AVID Jazz (originally on Storyville), cheap for an import. If you listen closely, it's obviously a needle drop, especially the drums. But it's a goodie and after 20 years of bootleg collecting, a clean needle drop sounds like blue sky to me. The band is great: Bob Brookmeyer, Jo Jones, Hank Jones, and Bill Crow. Everyone is bent on melodic improvising, and they take their time, creating a spacious and friendly vibe. Hank Jones does these great, tinkling single-note solos, like on "Lullaby of the Leaves" where everyone lays out so Hank and Crow can trade licks to the gentle whoosh of Jones' hi-hat. Brookmeyer sounds great playing in unison with Sims, and the creamy vocal perfectly ensconced in the middle of "I Can't Get Started" is a rare treat, too. Four stars.

29. Ahmad Jamal / Chamber Music of the New Jazz (1955)

I find myself listening to the 'original unconventional' piano trio again and again, and I enjoy it more each time I hear it. It's light and refreshing, cracking with good ideas and smooth sailing without even a hint of drums. Why bother? Jamal has Israel Crosby doing great interplay on bass while also hitting the pulse, and Ray Crawford strikes and plucks the guitar for a similar effect. Crawford has some good solo space, too, while Jamal comps or plays with Crosby. The three musicians have effervescent chemistry and often finish each other's sentences, musically speaking. Jamal has enough room to use the piano trio for what it was meant intended. He does all kinds of inventive stuff and blocks or plays alone with his right hand, occasionally dropping boulders to make the point. You can hear he's trying stuff out, and uses the full range of the keyboard, too. The influential player and album were like a drop of water for the arrangers' seed, inspiring Gil Evans and Miles Davis to the heights of cool in the 1950s. Best part is when it comes to Jamal, this album was only the beginning.

28. Benny Golson / Tenor Legacy (1998)

This album is essential. The explosive session is very natural and everyone is clearly enjoying it. Veteran Golson teams up with Branford Marsalis, James Carter and Harold Ashby to pay tribute to Dexter Gordon, Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young, Coltrane, and a half dozen more. The atomic "Lester Leaps In" places Golson's mature phrasing and fat tone between the young and more adventurous Carter, whose abrasive squall is the ideal foil. Ashby joins in for good measure, and the three-way melee is one hell of an opener. Golson gets a single track alone, the sweet ballad "In Memory of," dedicated to Don Byas accompanied by lush block chords and the rainy touch of sliding brushes. I also really enjoyed the take "My Favorite Things" a la Coltrane. The feel is much different than Trane's. Dwayne Burno's busy bass is another animal compared to the hauntingly ambiguous static elements that were played by Steve Davis, and pianist Geoff Keezer stands out above the assembled reeds and almost steals the show, alternating between shifting modalities and improvised linear melody.

27. Benny Goodman / Vol II: Clarinet a la King (1989)

A great "best of" set with sides dating from 1939 to 1941, with Georgie Auld, Ziggy Elman, Charlie Christian, guest Cootie Williams, and many others. The previously unissued master of "Henderson Stomp" with Fletcher himself on piano is a fine highlight, so is "Zaggin' with Zig," after Ziggy Elman and "Solo Flight," a spotlight for Charlie Christian. The band is hot but the arrangements make the whole thing work, and I enjoy the creative ways the reeds play against the brass. In this era trumpets had a more diverse assortment of techniques to work with, either open or with mutes, and listening to the soloist use these in different contexts is exciting. Helen Forrest and Peggy Lee sing guest spots that buoy the program. Forrest has a bell like quality after the band's second chorus on "Bewitched," singing higher and clearer than before, a tone parallel to the upper register of Goodman's clarinet. The music is ebullient and uplifting, the lyrics coy or sassy ("It Never Entered My Mind," "Yes My Darling Daughter") with lots of lift and plenty of volume. It's easy to see how kids could dance to the stuff.

26. Dizzy Gillespie / Dizzy Gillespie & the Mitchell-Ruff Duo (1971)

Dizzy plays live at Dartmouth College with the under appreciated duo of Dwike Mitchell and Willie Ruff. His association with the duo dates to New York in the 1950s where they were often booked in the same clubs. This night, Diz is in top form, very relaxed, and plays some solos that recall his agility from earlier decades, also interjecting humor into bits between songs. Willie Ruff has developed an idiosyncratic, inventive brand of rhythm on the string bass, he also plays elegant music on the French horn that adds brassy class to tracks like "Dartmouth Duo." Most of the set is what I expect from Dizzy ("Woody'n You," some Billy Strayhorn picks, "Con Alma") but there is a beautiful blues in the aptly titled "Blues People" and also an original by Willie Ruff called "Bella Bella" that isn't easily overlooked in the middle of the program. Overall, it's a very strong set from Dizzy Gillespie aged 54, with two very interesting and not often heard "sidemen" wrapping their duo chemistry around the familiarity of another musician. It's a shame this album has gone out of print with no sign of a reissue.

25. Coleman Hawkins / In a Mellow Tone (1998)

Prestige had it easier than other labels in the task of compiling Coleman Hawkins' "best" studio recordings. Hawk's output on Prestige, Swingville and Moodsville commenced in 1958 and was completed by 1962, so the difficult job of choosing the most exemplary tracks was simplified. They chose from a diverse variety of small groups with Tiny Grimes, Red Garland, Tommy Flanagan, Major Holley, Ray Bryant, and Kenny Burrell, and others. It's a nice sampling of Hawk's technique and improvisational prowess. "Greensleeves" is done as a heartbreaking blues, and "I Want to be Loved" features Red Garland soulfully blocking the chorus while Hawk blows judicious bouts of syrupy vibrato. On Duke's "In a Mellow Tone," Hawk takes the left channel and Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis takes the right, trading gritty R&B inflected licks that progressively up the ante. The best part of this disc is that it does not sound conceptually disjointed. Hawk's distinctive voice and inventive ideas dominate the proceedings and keep the ear interested across almost five years of recordings with an assortment of players. 

24. Teddy Charles / The Teddy Charles Tentet (1956)

The credits on this impressive cool jazz album include J.R. Monterose, Gigi Gryce, Jimmy Raney, and arrangements by Gil Evans, Mal Waldron, and Jimmy Giuffre, as well as Teddy Charles. Those arrangements predominate: they are tight, fluid, and very cool. I love the orchestration, which uses both brass and reeds to cover the baritone, tenor, and alto ranges. In George Russell's "Lydian M-1," there are alternately brasses or reeds pinning down the top and bottom, while Monterose and Gryce take turns filling in the middle, and Peter Urban's brassy cornet soars above the continuo by Charles and Waldron. The instrumental textures mesh nicely, and each player has a strong sense of ensemble playing as well as a creatively swinging solo voice. Raney's solo in "Nature Boy" is sensitive and the perfect compliment to Charles soft work on the vibes. If you rule out the Miles Davis projects with Gil Evans from the next year, this album is quite different than anything going on in 1956. 

23. Bix Beiderbecke / Felix the Cat (1993)

CD compilations from 78s are a gamble because the audio can be very poor and the program might omit the artist's most important work. The Columbia remasters and similar offerings from other big labels are safe, but if you just want a few CDs then choosing the right one in a chronological, multidisc series can be difficult. This import on a single disc is unavailable, but I've seen it inexpensively in a few shops, probably because people prefer the complete Columbia set. The audio quality is surprisingly good. It is a substantial 24 tracks, and presents good selections from all the phases of Bix's career. Included are Bix's lovely piano original "In a Mist" as well as the small group side with Eddie Lang "Wringin' and Twistin'." You also get big band work with the Wolverines, Jean Goldkette, Frankie Trumbauer, Paul Whiteman, and his last sides with friend Hoagy Carmicheael. The tone and style of Bix's open horn are immediately recognizable and stand head and shoulders above other players, even today. If I had to pick a single Bix compilation out of the multitude, this would probably be the one. 

22. Sonny Rollins / Tenor Madness (1956)

It's great to hear Coltrane and Sonny Rollins working alongside one another. At the time of this recording, both players were up and coming, on the brink of changing jazz as we hear it today. On the title track "Tenor Madness," everyone is eager and gregarious. Coltrane goes first, offering a bright, slippery tone with more focused objectives. Sonny is next, spreading it around more with a deeper, wetter tone. The playing from both men is anything but a cutting contest. In fact, they sound relaxed and patient, as if casually trying out new ideas without worrying about the overhead. It's a quality session with some historic import, and an interesting footnote to fans of Miles or Monk, for obvious reasons. Tenor Madness is also interesting in that it contains Miles Davis' working group, but proceeds without his direction. In that regard, the product comes off as far less focused and lacking the inertia of Workin', Steamin' or Relaxin'.