His 1963 recording with John Gilmore, Thad Jones, Frank Strozier, Jimmy Garrison, Elvin Jones, and co. Firing Trane-style modal jazz, a waltz, Night In Tunisia, brilliant soloing all round — it’s a classic.
‘Verve By Request.’

This slipped in under the radar, just before Christmas. It’s a dazzling, soul-searching brew of deconstructed but highly lyrical piano-trio balladry, free improv, minimalism — critics will mention Morton Feldman in relation to anything at the drop of a hat — and Impressionists like Mompou, Faure… even startling shots of brilliant funk, in Template. Hotly recommended.

Positioning him between Milford Graves and Morton Feldman, the New York Times reckons this is ‘Mr. Sorey’s best album… bereft of almost anything resembling a steady cadence. Instead, what’s inside the pulse — resonance, fluid, potential — comes to the fore. It’s not rare for recordings of improvised music to give a sense of the physical space between instrumentalists, but with Mr. Sorey’s trio, that air seems to be in a state of charged collapse, packed with magnetic density.’

Pushing on from his soul-jazz accomplishments — classic burners like Steppin’ Out for Blue Note, with Grant Green — this a terrific set of personal, spiritual funky jazz, self-produced in 1974 (when Vick was working for Aretha). The six original compositions are fully flavoured by an expanded horn section — including Charles Earland’s trumpeter Virgil Jones, and French horn player Kiane Zawadi, fresh from Shepp’s Attica Blues — and the Fender Rhodes of Joe Bonner, in from Pharoah Sanders’ group, and Oneness Of Juju. Vick himself is on fire.

Based on recordings by John Abercrombie, Miroslav Vitous, Louis Sclavis, Bennie Maupin, Paul Motian, Arvo Part and co.

‘The album emanates a deliberate, contemplative quality, inviting listeners to immerse themselves in its rich sonic tapestry. Myers’ masterful piano work, showcased prominently throughout the album, guides the listener through a series of elegant, introspective episodes, each imbued with a sense of profound depth and emotional resonance. Smith’s trumpet, with its radiant tones and illuminating presence, serves as a beacon of hope and upliftment.’

‘This is full of playing so poignant that it’ll make your chest ache’ (The Guardian).
‘Spare and gorgeous’ (Qobuz).

Thrilling, angular hard bop, impatiently itching itself open to the new thing.
Dolphy plays b-flat clarinet and alto; Ron Carter plays cello. Booker Ervin is rawly eloquent as per. The seven compositions are all by Waldron, who centres proceedings with inimitable brilliance.
Feelingly recorded by Van Gelder in the summer of 1961, in the same few weeks as Ron Carter’s Where.
In this iteration — all-analogue remastering from the master-tapes, tip-on sleeve, first-class pressing — it’s a must.

‘A lost 1975 session by the great pianist Mal Waldron, recorded in Paris with core members of the mighty Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
‘By 1975, Waldron was a decade into his self-imposed exile from the United States, having reassembled his sound after a devastating breakdown in the early ‘60s. His post-1969 output stripped jazz down to its core elements: modal intensity, locked grooves, and hypnotic repetition. Candy Girl doesn’t interrupt this trajectory—it extends it, wrapping Waldron’s minimalist mantras around the funked-up chassis of the Lafayette rhythm section.
‘Originally released in microscopic quantities on the Calumet label and long shrouded in obscurity, Candy Girl was recorded spontaneously in the studio of producer Pierre Jaubert, whose Paris HQ had become the workshop for both avant-garde jazz (Archie Shepp, Art Ensemble of Chicago, Steve Lacy) and psychedelic funk (Lafayette Afro Rock Band AKA Ice). This session finds Waldron jamming freely with bassist Lafayette Hudson, drummer Donny Donable, and keyboardist Frank Abel on clavinet, Moog and more—laying down raw, unfiltered instrumental funk with an experimental edge.
‘Highlights include the low-slung vamp of Home Again, the crisp, break-laden groove of Red Match Box, and the mesmeric swirl of the title track Candy Girl — a minor-key electric piano waltz with hints of cosmic soul. The sombre yet meditative Dedication To Brahms deconstructs the composer’s third symphony into a sparse jazz reverie.’