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.

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. 

84. Modern Jazz Quartet / Concorde (1955)

I vividly remember the day I bought this LP. It was among the first jazz records I ever purchased, and I found it sitting at a yard sale in the next neighborhood. I must have been about 15 years old. In a box filled mostly with movie soundtracks, I found Concorde along with MJQ's Fontessa and Black Sabbath's Live at Last. I bought all three for fifty cents apiece, and went home happy. I didn't know much about jazz back then, but after studying the back cover intently, I made the right choice. This album is classic MJQ and also features the debut of Connie Kay. The Gershwin medley is the centerpiece, paired with an innovative take of "Softly as in a Morning Sunrise" on the second side. But there are surprises everywhere, as with the quiet beauty of "All of You" or lively conversation between Jackson and Lewis on "I'll Remember April." Milt Jackson is a hero pretty much everywhere (can you tell I like him?), at once bluesy and virtuosic. There's strong musicality in each of the tracks blowing sections, and it's hard to tell that Kay hasn't been playing with the other three members all along.

50. Modern Jazz Quartet / Fontessa (1956)

Atlantic must have been happy with this debut, because Fontessa is a shot of distilled MJQ magic. It's got one piece from every area the group excelled in: an amalgam of blues and bop, with judicious musicality and nods toward classical forms. Fontessa swings deep and loose, with sharp jabs from Lewis and Milt playing his slick and bluesy best. "Versailles" is a fugal-bop Frankenstein with a seamless transition that starts with interesting counterpoint from Lewis and Jackson, before the band wraps around juicy bass lines from Heath, while Lewis and Jackson throw ideas at each other. "Angel Eyes" is next, a sly ballad with a noirish touch. The elegant, 11-minute suite "Fontessa" closes with a sweep unlike anything else on the record. It is an imaginative interpretation of commedia dell'arte, music having been assigned to each stock character, and each representing a different musical period in the shifting sands of jazz. Reading the notes, it's fun to pick out which moods Lewis chose for each era. Side 2 is a set of contemporary well-knowns but the natural improvisors and provocative interplay make them worth the time. It's a great set with enough ideas to keep experienced listeners interested, and a nice destination if you've had enough of Django lately.

34. Milt Jackson & John Coltrane / Bags and Trane (1961)

Released after My Favorite Things, Giant Steps, and Coltrane Jazz, this collaboration was recorded in 1959, and was actually the first album to be recorded by Coltrane on his new contract with Atlantic. It was sensible to wait until '61 to release it. Because while it's very good music, blues and standards by a quintet, and the exchange of ideas between Trane and Bags during improvisations makes it a few cuts above what it could be, given their prior associations, this album doesn't make the same splash. He wasn't their guy anymore, so you could view it as a safe play for Atlantic while Coltrane was en route to Impulse. I don't understand why Atlantic altered the sequence of the original LP when they released the CD, but they did. In this case, I don't think it matters. The Bags-penned blues numbers like "Late Late Blues" and "Blues Legacy" are my favorites. It seems that no matter where they were in the music, the blues were never very far behind either player, and that's a good thing.