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.
Superior 180g vinyl via Rhino, in mono.

Larry Marshall and Alvin Leslie, backed by The Revolutionaries and blazing horns, produced by Alvin Ranglin.
Accomplished late-seventies reggae, never properly released till now; shot through with Marshall’s moody intensity and craftsmanship.

A suite of revolutionary anarchist songs from the Spanish Civil War — featuring Don Cherry, Roswell Rudd, Gato Barbieri, Dewey Redman and guitarist Sam Brown — plus Ornette’s War Orphans, three works by Carla Bley (who arranges brilliantly), and two by the great bassist himself, in tributes to Che Guevara and protests against the Vietnam War, on his tumultuous, bracing, expansive first outing as leader, in 1970.

From 1973, the first of her recordings as a duo with Areski. ‘Deeply rooted in North African and European folk traditions… evocative vignettes with breezy vocals and minimal accompaniment of classical guitar, strings and woodwinds… One of their best-loved albums, for its remarkable sense of intimacy… beckoning listeners into a strange and beautiful world.’

The CD is newly remastered — it sounds magnificent —  adding two out-takes and two extended versions. (The ending of Slim Slow Slider is startling.) Surely a must at the price.
Rhino vinyl.

The 1957 recording with Paul Chambers and Philly Joe Jones.

Late-60s, minimal, ambient classic, with Riley’s lovely synth and organ-playing deftly elucidating seven phases scored here for large orchestra with extra percussion and electronics.

In truth this is just prior to the formation of Liquid Liquid, in 1981. Like a no-wave, Saturnian version of Raymond Scott’s big band. The punks at the London Musicians Collective would have loved them.
LI played various NYC lofts and clubs, including Tier 3, Mudd Club and CBGB. Audience members were encouraged to bring their own instruments along. Idiot Orchestra was an offshoot involving more than a dozen players — clarinet, saxophone, trumpet, violin, cello, synth, bass, marimba and drums.
With a fanzine featuring rare photos and a new interview with Richard McGuire.

‘One of the most essential hard bop purchases in the canon. The performances by Duke Pearson — four of his own tunes, five by Byrd, and standards — showcase his improvisational acumen at its height. His soloing on studio records pales in comparison. This was a hot quintet, that not only swung hard, but possessed a deep lyricism and an astonishing sense of timing’ (Allmusic).

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.

CP came through professionally in the 1940s, most notably with Dizzy Gillespie. Amongst scores of recordings, he’s on Randy Weston’s Uhuru Afrika, Kenny Dorham’s Afro Cuban, and Baritones And French Horns, with Trane. Here, leading a seriously distinguished lineup — Dorham, Albert Kuumba Heath, Wynton Kelly and Wilbur Ware, produced by Clifford Jordan — he naturally brings his own retrospective gravitas to the late-sixtes jazz ferment, underlined by his opening each side here with tributes: Martin Luther King, with its strongly Milesian lines, and Slide Hampton, featuring some scintillating piano work. Both Dorham and Kelly died between the recording and release of this album — which honours Eric Dolphy, also recently deceased — and the music itself poignantly hinges together different eras in jazz, proposing new paths forward in the tight funk of Girl, You Got A Home, and rollicking Carib jazz of Flying Fish, to close. No bells and whistles; just lovely stuff.

‘Verve By Request.’

Thrillingly uncontainable, uproarious, wildly creative music, teeming with passion, protest, sex, orality, dread, blues, and the gospel truth. With Roland Kirk newly enrolled, Mingus passes his bass to Watkins… and it all kicks off. We can’t recommend this record strongly enough. It will do you good.