
Sonny Rollins - What Is There to Say (1957)
Sonny Clark’s first New York City recording session was a very successful date with another, slightly better-known Sonny.

Sonny Rollins - What Is There to Say (1957)
Sonny Clark’s first New York City recording session was a very successful date with another, slightly better-known Sonny.

Thelonious Monk - Light Blue (1958)
The angularity and inventiveness of Monk’s compositions are so strange to the ear and yet so infectious. Each one makes its own divine sense.
[L to R] Larry Ridley, Patricia Greaves (waitstaff) and Roy Haynes at Lennie’s on the Turnpike, Salem MA, February 1964
(from the Salem State Archives on Flickr)

Jackie McLean - Das’ Dat (1964)
From allmusic’s review:
McLean’s butt funky “Das’ Dat,” which follows, owes a debt to Horace Silver to be sure, but the blues element, which is in the tune’s head, is pure Jackie McLean. McLean’s own playing isn’t particularly adventurous, though he pushes his tone to the limits at times. He swings tough with the hard bop sensibility that put him on the label in the first place, and “Das’ Dat” is the most enjoyable thing here.
From all about jazz:
“Das’ Dat” - a pretty straight blues in Bb - enters as if to remind listeners from where McLean’s music comes. Hancock’s solo and comping on this are revealing; he plays right inside the tune, with only the slightest references to the more exploratory playing elsewhere on the recording.
I’d put this under-the-radar LP up there among Herbie Hancock’s finest moments. Repeated listens reveal additional harmonic complexities and stunningly sympathetic interactions.
Roy Haynes, Thelonious Monk, Sonny Rollins and Ahmed Abdul-Malik at the Five Spot Cafe NYC, September 1958
Thelonious Monk jamming with (left to right) Charles Mingus, Roy Haynes, and Charlie Parker at the Open Door in Greenwich Village NYC, September 1953

Art Blakey - Lee’s Tune (1958)
Recorded with Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers of 1958 sans Benny Golson and with lots of added percussion, this LP only took 41 years to reach daylight, likely due to the experimental quality of so much percussion—Philly Joe Jones, Roy Haynes and Ray Barretto join Art Blakey on the skins. Lee Morgan and Bobby Timmons do their best to keep things melodic.

Andrew Hill - Black Fire (1963)
Hill’s debut as a leader is as accessible an introduction as you will get to his music. The music is angular, outside the hard bop, soul and free jazz of the time, but squarely rooted in Hill’s unique compositional conceptions.
Hill got a major assist from his quartet: Henderson (tenor sax), Davis (bass) and Haynes (drums). Hill had great chemistry with all three, and each would appear on at least one Hill recording after this one. Henderson’s playing in particular is more refreshingly exploratory and avant-garde here than on other LPs he appeared on at the time like Lee Morgan’s Sidewinder and Grant Green’s Idle Moments.

Oliver Nelson - Stolen Moments (1961)
For the uninitiated, this is one of those legendary jazz compositions that casts an enduring spell. Nelson’s arrangements are wondrous, but it is his sax solo on this tune that busts the listener in the chops with its perfectly conceived buildup, crescendo and denouement. Eric Dolphy also adds one of the more ripping flute solos you’re likely to hear today.