85. Lester Young / The Jazz Giants (1956)

The Green-Ramey-Jones factor is in effect here, as Lester blows for the first time alongside the exquisite Roy Eldridge and Vic Dickenson. Teddy Wilson provides piano, his first date with Prez in a decade, and the whole thing really swings. The chemistry is great and it's a good listen. Knowing who is on the session, I love hearing one chorus while waiting for the next guy. Lester does some fireworks (try "Gigantic Blues," also note Eldridge, Wilson and Jones) but he sounds profoundly blue throughout the others. I never bought the description of Prez as lean or altoesque, or however that's said. He's got a  big, sonorous tone that portrays (and occasionally betrays) every nuance of the piece. These are mostly ballads so it suits this album especially well. In the arrangements, Lester usually goes first followed by Dickenson or Eldridge. When they get to the end, the whole band takes it out. It reminds me of a big band arrangement, and harnesses the septet's additional weight to good effect.

79. Lester Young / The Complete Savoy Recordings (2002)

No excuses for not having this in the collection. Remastered from original tape and acetate recordings in sparkling 20-bit audio, sequenced chronologically, good notes and packaging. Together these make an exemplary product, but the music is a treasure. Lester Young was such a natural improviser. I read that a lot, and it's true, but words only take me so far. Listening to successive takes of "Ghost of a Chance," "Crazy Over J-Z," "Exercise in Swing," and "Blues 'n' Bells," the truth becomes ever more apparent. There it is, it's happening. Each time he takes a chorus, he's doing something else. In light of the outtakes, I'm by and large very pleased with the tracks selected as masters, which isn't always the case. Like the master of "Basie English." I love the blues lick during Lester's chorus (you know which one!), and overall it's clearly the better performance. But that's actually the second take, and during the first, it sounds like the group is working on something close to what Lester did later. Elsewhere, we hear Lester's processing of the young and modern music that supplanted the old guard, like those masterful bridges in "Ghost." I listen and feel like he's right next to me, a ghost in the passenger seat. Howdy, Prez.

63. Lester Young Trio with Nat King Cole and Buddy Rich (1946)

This is Lester Young right after the war, 1946, and leading a piano trio with Nat King Cole and Buddy Rich. It's the comfort food of jazz, and very satisfying. Young's lines are the epitome of their form, sweetly imagined, and sound as much like lines in a conversation as they do lines of melody on a saxophone. It's a good example of Young's casual, easy swinging style, and with just two other guys in the group, it's everywhere on the record. Nat's left hand does somersaults in playful runs, inventive patterns and good rhythmic chording, making the idea of a bass player obviously redundant. Cole interacts with Lester a lot. The pair is constantly trading ideas and listening to one another intently. Rich mostly uses the brushes but makes a relaxed vibe, keeping tempos taut and encouraging the soloists. There's a lot to choose from. The CD issue has two versions of "I Cover the Waterfront" and a handful of outtakes at the end of the disc which are nice. 

56. Count Basie / Count Basie at Newport (1957)

This set is a giant. Basie already has a power packed orchestra with Thad Jones, Frank Foster, Frank Wess, Sonny Payne, Freddie Greene, and a handful of others. But he invites superstars from his past bands to join them. Lester Young, Jimmy Rushing, Jo Jones, Joe Williams, and Illinois Jacquet all have a few moments to play with the current band. It's powerful music that is energetic, exciting, inspired, and obviously enjoyed by everyone on the stand and in the crowd. The tracks with Basie's reformed orchestra -- sleek and modern, young but steeped in swing and the blues -- are a nice contrast with older, swing-based musicians like Lester doing "Polka Dots and Moonbeams" followed by a frenetic "Lester Leaps In" and Jimmy Rushing singing the jaw dropping blues "Sent for You Yesterday and Here You Come Today." Rushing's gigantic voice demonstrates what it takes in terms of volume and stage presence to stand out in front of the most motley orchestra in the business. The old chemistry is still there, and this album, like Duke's record from Newport '56, demonstrates that big band wasn't dead yet.

54. Count Basie / The Essential Count Basie, Vol. 1 (1990)

Like some other Columbia reissues, the sound quality of this disc lacks, given the NR that Columbia used to remove imperfections in source material. It's a baffling misstep. I agree, the sonics of the Complete Decca Recordings are far superior and the differences are plain. That's a shame, because the music is great. Here you get the legendary late 1930s Basie band, with the usual suspects and buoyant arrangements. But try as they might to lift you off the floor, the particular digital medium has sucked the life and dynamics right out of it. Regardless, you've got a heart of stone if you can't enjoy "Taxi War Dance," "Goin' to Chicago Blues," "Miss Thing," or "Lady Be Good." Regarding that last number, and the iconic Lester Young solo: what is his first, I've also heard called his finest solo on disc. Such reductive comments leave me wondering if critics ever listened to the rest of his career, especially that period following the war when his playing acquired a mature, refined sensibility that was intensely personal and wholly unique. Sometimes it feels like I am the only person who feels this way.   

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.

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.

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.