Browsing through my record collection the other day, I came across an LP that has always been very close and dear to me. To my way of thinking it epitomizes the highest achievement in the world of Jazz – spontaneity. Simply titled Clifford Brown & Max Roach: Jordu– 1955 , it is the embodiment of undiluted, spontaneous and truthful improvisation - the component that is the essential attribute of any true Jazz player.

Throughout the album there are glistening illustrations of each musician's musical skills. Max Roach on drums is perfect in solidifying the time. George Morrow on bass melds with Max in a rhythmically cohesive manner; and Richie Powell on piano seems to inspire the rhythm section as a whole. The front line consists of Clifford Brown on trumpet and Harold Land on tenor sax.

Although I consider the album in its totality to be of time capsule quality, there are several selections that particularly stand out in my mind. The most remarkable of these has to be Blues Walk, which features solos by both Brown and Land. The segment of this particular piece that I am referring to is the one in which a number of short exchanges take place between Clifford and Harold. Of course, an untold number of musical groups (certainly ones with horns in the front line) have engaged in what Jazz musicians like to refer to as “chases” or “eights” or “fours,” depending on the structure of the tune being performed. But this particular performance goes a good deal further. After some awesome solos by both Clifford and Harold, they proceed to engage in alternating exchanges of four bars each. Then, just when they seem to have achieved maximum intensity, they resort to the more difficult task of exchanging “twos” (two bars each). As if to test their communicative skills to the utmost, they then resort to exchanging one bar each (one of the most difficult musical feats, certainly at the tempo of this performance). As if that isn't proof enough of their integrated thinking and conception of each other's playing, they then resort to the dangerous task of exchanging two beats each, a feat seldom if ever tried by the majority of the musicians that I know in the field, and most certainly not at this tempo. These two soloists are so well attuned to each other's skills and thoughts that if you listen clearly to the lines as they follow each other, at one point it becomes almost a single line that you could imagine being performed by a single soloist. I have played this album innumerable times, over and over, for my own satisfaction, and at other times have used it as an educational tool in some of the Jazz seminars that I have held from time to time. It never fails to astound the students; they simply can't believe their ears.

I guess I don't have to tell you that this is one of my most treasured albums. Someday I fear it will eventually fail me because of the overplay it has had, but every moment that I enjoyed from it was more than worth it.