209. Lionel Hampton & Stan Getz / Hamp & Getz (1955)

I suppose it's nice that by a happy accident of geography and scheduling, Hamp and Getz occupied the same place at the same time and afforded us a record. Hamp hits the sticks with a swinging ferocity that inspires Getz out of his cool cage in some unexpected chances. The pair battles through choruses and plods through a medley of ballads in a fair exposition of each's technique. It seems that Getz had to start running to keep up with the manic energy of the legendary vibraphonist. The two personalities make something of a strange cocktail, and I'd say the net result is more differentiated and less of a mutual product. The most exciting fireworks come during uptempo "Cherokee" and "Jumpin' at the Woodside." On the CD reissue, we have some extras, namely a mystery trombone player rumored to be Willie Ruff, but he doesn't really do much. The outtake of "Gladys" is a nice party favor, but, again, nothing special aside from where Hamp hits a clanger. I never like it when a reviewer describes something as "nonessential" but that's exactly what I've got here. The ingredients are enjoyable, but I'll continue taking my Hamp and Getz neat. The fine artwork on the cover is by the great David Stone Martin, reminding me that one of these days I'd like find a lithograph.

207. Stan Getz / Captain Marvel (1972)

Here, we find Getz in good form alongside the boys from Return to Forever. His own notes tell us it was Chick Corea who arranged the date, and most of the music is from his pen. But it is the tenor man from another era who craftily renders the smoothly stated leads that flavor the proceedings -- Stan Getz. He's a melodic monster, and a little like Zoot Sims, just can't seem to put a note wrong. At this point in his career, Getz's tone and the agility of his fingers were still intact, and his technique even thriving. So I hear the overlay of the players' contexts and their respective styles as the key to the session, with Getz relinquishing little of his modern cred, leaving the Corea contingent to provide the updated message. Remember, in 1972, Return to Forever was still newly formed. Miles Davis was active, the impact of fusion was unseen, and it was all still very fresh. Appreciate this disc for its personnel pairings as much as for its place in the later Getz canon. And it's got Tony Williams, reason enough for me to plop down for a listen. 

167. John Coltrane / Lush Life (1961)

While Prestige's Lush Life was not released until 1961, it was recorded by Van Gelder during three sessions in '57 and '58. As he was no longer recording for the label, Coltrane had no say in it but ironically, the record contains a few of his choicest recordings playing in the small group, hard bop setting. This was an incredibly fertile period for Coltrane. He had yet to compose the seminal works that later appeared on Blue Note and Atlantic but was already working on the technique and musical ideas that would define his legacy. The first three tracks present Coltrane as leader of a pianoless trio, fleshing out a lot of chords in lieu of the keyboard. The most memorable moment on Lush Life is probably the title track, a luscious ballad owned by the leader until around nine minutes in when Donald Byrd steps out of the woodwork for some equally inspiring lines on the trumpet. Two years ago I was at a stoplight listening to this on the radio and was so transfixed by Byrd's meandering melancholy that it took a horn blast from the car behind me to break the reverie. While I'll never recreate that moment, I can still listen again and again. "Trane's Slo Blues" is also notable for Coltrane's moves inside the changes. These tracks appear on the boxset Fearless Leader although they are not presented in the same sequence as they are here, which is actually quite good.