157. Gene Harris Quartet with Frank Wess / It's the Real Soul (1995)

Recorded live across two nights in March of 1995, these eight tracks feature the Gene Harris Quartet (Ron Eschete, g; Luther Hughes, b; Paul Humphrey, d) in the company of Frank Wess. Wess divides his time between four tracks, playing tenor on "Menage a Bleu" and "Estoril Soul," then flute on "Straight No Chaser" and "My Funny Valentine." He is as expressive on the flute as Harris is on the piano, unleashing a diverse assortment of perky phrases and exciting techniques that frame the Monk tune in a perfectly jaunty way, and adding lots of personality to "My Funny Valentine." Nice as it is to have him around for the proceedings, the core band plays with such a big sound and heavy swing that I don't miss him on the other half of the record. Harris works well with guitarist Eschete. Their cooperation in splitting the breaks of "Lady Be Good" turns the old tune into a memorable affair, their choruses developing patiently until the mood reaches a fever pitch. "That's All," which is the last tune on the album, is a fitting closer. Harris teases "Rhapsody in Blue" before really pounding into fully chorded statements, with the crowd loving it. His style on the keyboard is often described as being rooted in a gospel tradition and tracks like "You Don't Know Me" clearly substantiate those descriptions.  

83. Benny Golson / Gone with Golson (1959)

Rooted in Don Byas, et al., Golson takes at least one conservatively melodic chorus before stepping out a little farther. He's a very melodic player overall, but by the end of his turn, he's rushing ahead like a steam locomotive of emotional force. His arrangements and compositions are superb. In those furious bursts of energy it's easy to see his influence on Coltrane, but the leader's skills as composer also attracted Trane. Like the peculiar resolutions in "Soul Me" which work within, rather than toward, the gospel mode to ply such an intriguing charm. As for sidemen, Curtis Fuller is indispensable, transcending the slide and keenly harnessing the dynamic capabilities of his horn to make sympatico statements after Golson (try "Autumn Leaves). Brothers Ray and Tommy Bryant are an important unit whether it's comping, impeccable timekeeping, or taking their own choruses. So is Al Harewood felt, together about as solid a rhythm section as you could ask for. There's no Art Farmer in sight, but this isn't a Jazztet date and it's nice to watch Golson fly on his own, as it usually is.