198. Frank Wess / Opus in Swing (1956)

This pianoless quintet led by the flute of Frank Wess also lacks his other instrument, the alto sax. Accordingly, he's in top form whether it's pounding high notes in the blue gloom of "Southern Exposure" or adding harmonic color to the serpentine leads of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." Also moonlighting from the Basie Band are Eddie Jones and Freddie Green who keep time with Kenny Clarke so tight it's telepathic. The quintet excels in the same music that Basie's bands made famous. Like Basie's, their combo has an undeniable group dynamic, but every man is heard as his own solo artist. Together, they drive the music with one mind, then shine forth as individuals during the moments when one man stands alone. It's impossible to appreciate one quality without noticing the other. Kenny Burrell is notable. Listen to "East Wind." Green trades chording for a more pianolike approach that walks, while Klook keeps time with the cymbals and Wess sketches the heavy mood with dense vibrato. When he lays out, Burrell bursts the seams with bluesy runs and relevant single note phrases that underscore the character of the melody and polish the rhythm. It's choice stuff, a potent brew of Kansas City swing that has been seasoned with the developments of postwar New York.

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.

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.

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. 

01. Charlie Parker / The Complete Savoy and Dial (2002)

Charlie Parker's light went out while he was still young, so his recordings are condensed, roughly, inside of a single decade. That's still a lot music if you include previously unissued live recordings, studio outtakes, etc. But the short career makes the Parker oeuvre relatively digestible compared to that of say, Dizzy Gillespie, who worked for 50 years. So I'm happy that we have this compilation of all the Savoy and Dial sides, a trump-all set that makes the job of digestion so much easier. If you're new to Bird, then start here. Collectors and academic listeners will prefer the complete recordings (splurge a hundred bucks for those) while anyone just wanting to hear the music, without the clams, false starts and other glorious mistakes, will pick the Master Takes for a third of the price.