141. Monty Alexander, Ray Brown, Herb Ellis / Triple Treat (1982)

For various reasons, the cover of this recording seems oddly appropriate. A photograph of a three-scoop ice cream sundae makes a cheeky pun for the piano trio's sweet and sometimes quirky set of tunes like Blue Mitchell's "Fungi Mama" (with fun quotes by Ellis, and some jangly syncopation by Alexander) or the hot side-opening "(Meet The) Flintstones." Monty Alexander fills the piano chair and I don't think he sounds one bit like Oscar Peterson, in spite of Brown and Ellis being longtime members of that musician's group. The other music on the album is equally sweet and creamy, as with the sumptuous "Body and Soul" and "Sweet Lady," or swinging "When Lights are Low." Also notable is the title track, the "Triple Treat Blues." Chemistry, relaxed atmosphere and slick, baton passing choruses of these three musicians make a buoyant and memorable session that is out of print but worth seeking out. If you enjoy this lineup, be sure to check out their other albums, as well.

117. Ben Webster and Associates (1959)

Similar to the Rollins/Coltrane session Tenor Madness, much of Webster's Ben Webster and Associates feels like friends trying out ideas with relatively no pressure. In other words, a damned good jam session. Of course, with this lineup, the music has a completely different feel than Sonny Rollins and Coltrane. Webster and Co. start off with "In a Mellow Tone," and keep at it for over 20 minutes. It's so enjoyable, it's a shame the tune has to end. There's room for everyone: Webster, Budd Johnson, Hawk, Roy Eldridge, even Ray Brown gets two choruses. The excitement building for the final push to the end isn't to be missed. They next turn up the heat for "De-Dar," a bluesy tune with with a boisterous arrangement that swings hard. As far as the tenors go, I like listening to all the different styles on the same record -- Johnson's streamlined and laconic phrases in double time, Hawk's strident tone emerging like a dark horse, and Webster alternately growling or whispering but always playing straight. "Time After Time" strips Johnson, Hawkins, and Eldridge for a more intimate setting and allows further explorations in the diverse sound that Webster was famous for. So what are you waiting or? Get on the stick! This should be on every shelf.

86. The Oscar Peterson Trio / Night Train (1962)

Probably the most well known of all Oscar Peterson dates, thanks to the archetypal deep swing of the title track. I read that Peterson's father was a railroad porter, and the composition and album are a tribute to him. The leader invests a lot of emotion in these quiet but swinging selections. There's a lot of good material on this record -- "C-Jam Blues," "Georgia on my Mind," "Moten Swing," "Honey Dripper," and "Night Train" are all bona fide classics. Peterson is comparatively quiet behind the keys, humming less and seemingly content while employing bouts of delicious slides and twinkling arpeggios to get his point across. He uses the dynamics of the keyboard very effectively to underscore the emotional impact of each piece. And remember those other two -- Ray Brown and Ed Thigpen -- ain't no slouches, either. I think Ray's about as bluesy as Oscar. Four stars, and a good album for a date.

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.

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."

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.