168. Miles Davis / Kind of Blue (1959)

A review of Kind of Blue seems pointless. I'll muse for a few hundred words, and then quit. I imagine a world without this record, and that is a difficult world. It's a world where Bill Evans didn't sub for Wynton Kelly, a world in which countless musicians were struck by inspiration elsewhere. A world that is one milestone short of properly demarcating the future. A world where your brain is not irresistibly and without permission drawn to referencing all subsequent Miles Davis dates to this one. It's a world without the myth of it all being done in one take, a world where you don't have to buy that other CD to find out that what you missed was not really anything special. In this world, 1959 is not terribly different than 1958 or 1960. The Columbia vault is one cart of tapes lighter. It's a party that went one album different. It's the late night DJ who selects something by Cliff Brown instead. It's a world where the porter didn't see the CD on my passenger seat. It's a world where as a teenager, I didn't once stop my bicycle in the middle of an intersection to change the batteries of my headset. It's a world where my daughter was lulled into dreamland by someone else's trumpet, and awakened by someone who was not John Coltrane. It's a lot the same, but it's not the same, and I'd rather have it with Kind of Blue.

132. John Coltrane / Fearless Leader (2006)

Coltrane's Prestige albums have been available in various formats since the 1950s. Another chapter in the flood of repackaged Coltrane on CD, Fearless Leader places his earliest recordings as leader in chronological order. This allows serious listeners to study his development as composer, arranger, and stylist without having to track down the individual records. Moreover, by removing these recordings from their in-album sequences, they exist in a proper or at least more authentic musical context. They transcend the supposition that is imposed by arbitrary sequencing and stand their ground against one another, in the order they were created. Listening to the whole box, or at least a good chunk of it in one sitting, is a rewarding experience. From the outset, Coltrane's groups are well rehearsed and the arrangements are tight. Throughout the progression, it's exciting to hear Coltrane's tone become more sonorous, his technique sharper, more assured. In addition to the leader, there's Paul Chambers, Art Taylor, Red Garland, Mal Waldron, Freddie Hubbard, and others. We hear them take some excellent shots at the blues, as well as Coltrane's peerless balladry in classic chestnuts like "Lush Life" (Donald Byrd around the 9-minute mark, wow), and some early sheets of sound ("Black Pearls," "Russian Lullaby"). Across six discs, there's too much to discuss here. Somebody could, and several people have, written books on this music. The concept of the six-disc set, plus accompanying booklet with copious photos and notes, make it a really attractive package. Unless you want the individual albums, I'd say this is a core collection item.

87. Bobby Hutcherson / Dialogue (1965)

On Hutcherson's debut as leader, the members of his sextet make as much of an impact as he does. It's a lineup packed with powerful young players of the new jazz, many of whom are noted as leaders in their own right. But they create consistency that rejects the lie that too many cooks will spoil the soup. All compositions are by Andrew Hill, except "Idle While" and "Dialogue," by Joe Chambers. It's a good set, and the material is quite diverse. Like the mambo of "Catta" or free spirit displayed in "Le Noirs Marchant," all are enhanced by the group's diverse musical personalities. Hutcherson and Rivers, for example, play licks that are rhythmically jarring and colored by dissonance. But they're remarkably lyrical soloists, and the places they find musicality can be revelatory. Rivers also brings bass clarinet, flute, and soprano sax along with his tenor, so textures are always changing. The young Freddie Hubbard is also on the record, and his clarion trumpet is heard plainly above the ensemble, an ascendant talent whose first date as leader was just a few months off. 

60. James Carter / Jurassic Classics (1994)

On Jurassic Classics, Carter embraces seven of the most preeminent tunes and treats them the way they want to be treated. It's not a statement of Carter's ideas, and less an honor to the composers than a celebration of the music's essence. The title is funny. Because time-wise these tunes are old, but through Carter's explorations, they live and demand respect on the same tier as their composers. Throughout, the leader does lengthy solos on soprano, alto and tenor sax. Craig Taborn (piano), Jaribu Shahid (bass), Tanni Tabbal (drums) perform seamlessly as a group. Taborn's frenetic and percussive piano keeps the blood up and frequently encourages Carter in wild, searching runs. Like Carter, Taborn is a talented player who coaxes many moods and textures out of his instrument. I like the group's mimicry of a train in "Take the 'A' Train." It's novel, but effective. "Equinox" is the album's game changer, Carter using extended techniques in fitful statements of power. Clifford Brown's "Sandu" is a swanky touch, so is the short but unforgettable "Oleo," which has roots with Mr. Rollins.

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.

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'.