145. Benny Carter & His Orchestra / Further Definitions (1961)

This octet features the alto saxes of Green and Phil Woods playing across from Coleman Hawkins and Charlie Rouse on tenor. The lineup recreates the famous Green-Hawkins date from Paris 1937 while harkening back to the swing era's "dueling" sax lineups, fashioned after the Basie model. This time, several 30+ year veterans team up with players of the next generation like Woods, Rouse, and Jimmy Garrison. It's a real sympatico affair, a collage of distinctive voices working together in a shared, now classic style. Their danceable, infectious small group swing is a far cry from Impulse's stock and trade just a few years later. Carter's arrangements provide amply for the players, and the set rolls without a hitch. I love "Body and Soul," especially when Hawk plays it. It's a gem, and Carter's chart gives him all the room he wants. Woods' work on "Crazy Rhythm" (a chestnut also from the Paris date) is notable, drawing equally from the work of his mentors and his own developing style. The solid, self-assured vibe feels a lot like Duke Ellington Meets Coleman Hawkins or Verve's Ben Webster and Associates. Comparisons aside, it's something you want to own for its sheer enjoyability, if not for its historical value.

49. Thelonious Monk / The Thelonious Monk Orchestra at Town Hall (1959)

I like to think I can hear the splice in "Little Rootie Tootie," although I'm probably imagining it, a necessary evil because of a tape flip that missed the middle. Are there any tapers out there? You can identify. It's a good set, and arrangements for the 10-piece band showcase the soloists, like liquid Charlie Rouse, Phil Woods, Pepper Adams, or Donald Byrd. They also blow good ensemble figures and frame Monk's angularisms and wild chords within a richer ocean of sonority, so there's a lot of lift in the music. Some of these tunes, warhorses for small groups, sound as if they've found home at long last in a big band, like the majestic take of "Monk's Mood" or the jumping "Rootie." Just listen to ten guys blowing the head of "Rootie" around the 7-minute mark. Holy cow! That's tight! I think it works wonderfully. This performance finds Monk emerging from the '50s as mature and bursting with new ideas, about to enter his most productive decade just a few months ahead. For the full effect of the band, you've really got to turn up the volume on the stereo so it sounds like you're in the hall. It's electrifying.