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Terrific 1968 session with Hugh Lawson, Cecil McBee and Roy Brooks. Opening with the deep, eastern, modal Rosalie, taking in a couple of nice ballads, some brawling r and b, and a kicking See Line Woman.

The trumpeter in particular thriving in the strangeness of the set-up — Trane with Ornette’s band, on soprano, playing three Colemans, a Monk and a Cherry.

Produced by Rick Hall at Fame.

Timeless inspirational house.

Superb Sigma PA soul LP from 1973. Bobby Eli, Norman Harris, Earl Young, Vince Montana and everyone; Thom Bell at the controls; smashes like Just Can’t Get You Out Of My Mind, Ghetto Child, and I’ll Be Around.

With Ron Carter, Anthony Jackson, Dom Um Romao, Al Foster, Billy Butler and full crew, organized by Kenny Barron, in 1976.

In Kirk’s case, a little hubris can be excused. Here, his wonderful Saxophone Concerto for tenor is pretty much one breath.

Kicks off with a deep What’s Going On. With Buck Clarke on percussion.

Good grief, what a devastating curtain-raiser. It Tears Me Up, another Penn And Oldham.

The last Atlantic is a masterpiece, modal heaven. Ole is thunderous (two bass players), Aisha a gorgeous ballad. ‘George Lane’ is Eric Dolphy; Freddie Hubbard’s here, too.

His solo debut in 1965, taking time out from Cannonball Adderley’s band (and bringing Louis Hayes and Sam Jones), with an all-time soul-jazz classic to kick things off, and scintillating pianism throughout.

Well-matched with Milt Jackson (and Hank Jones, Paul Chambers and Connie Kay) in 1959. Stretching out in two Jackson compositions and three standards. One-off Japanese Warner-Pioneer press from 1972.

With Gary Bartz, Charles Tolliver, Stanley Cowell, and Andy Bey.

Curtis steered the Queen back on track in 1976 with this majestic, but pared-down production (not exactly a soundtrack), with plenty of killers, like Something He Can Feel, soul heaven.

Wonderful 1964 recording, first out in 1972, with the title-track’s twelve minutes of modal, percussive jazz dance (Big Black, Lenny McBrowne, Sir Harold Murray), and Booker Ervin heart-stopping on Portrait of Vivian.

Black Power sarcasm, never out of time.
So tight, Chic.