This CD contains the best recordings from the early years of the fiery trumpeter Roy Eldridge. Eldridge, one of the great swing trumpeters and a powerful player into the 1970s, is heard with Teddy Hill's orchestra, backing singer Putney Dandridge, on four titles with Fletcher Henderson (including the hit "Christopher Columbus"), starring on a four-song session with Teddy Wilson, joining Billie Holiday on "Falling in Love Again," soloing on two numbers with Mildred Bailey (his "I'm Nobody's Baby" solo is years ahead of its time), and, best of all, leading a small group through six songs (plus an alternate) from his own explosive sessions of January 1937. This brilliant music is essential for all serious jazz collections.

If a listener picks up a 50-minute jazz album that only contains four songs, he or she will rest assured that the musicians really get a chance to stretch things out. In the case of Decidedly, featuring tested players like trumpeter Roy Eldridge, guitarist Joe Pass, tenor Johnny Griffin, and pianist Ray Bryant, this is a good thing. Recorded live in 1975 in Antibes, France, before an appreciative audience, the material is being issued for the first time in 2002. The group kicks off with an Eldridge original, "Bee's Bloos," and settles into a relaxed groove for the rest of the show. A 16-minute take of "Lover Man (Oh, Where Can You Be?)" follows, with lengthy, soulful solos handed in by everyone. Bassist Niels-Henning Orsted Pedersen and drummer Louis Bellson offer tasteful underpinning along with a little muscle on "Undecided"…

In the late '50s trumpeter Roy Eldridge and tenor-saxophonist Coleman Hawkins teamed up on a fairly regular basis. Since they always brought out the best in each other (their solos could be quite competitive and fiery), all of their joint recordings are recommended. Two LPs from their gig at Washington D.C.'s Bayou Club in 1959 were previously released on the Honeysuckle Rose label. Five of those selections plus four previously unissued cuts are included on this Stash CD. Most of the tunes are medium-tempo jams such as "Just You, Just Me," "Rifftide," and "How High the Moon," but there is also an excellent ballad medley. Backed by a local rhythm section, Eldridge and Hawk are both in superior form, making this a highly recommended disc even for those listeners who already have the earlier LPs.

Teaming together Dizzy Gillespie and Roy Eldridge should result in some classic music, but by 1975, Eldridge (although still a fierce competitor) was past his prime and Gillespie was starting to fade. The material performed for this CD reissue is just not all that inspiring - a few overly played standards and blues. Despite some good efforts by Gillespie and Eldridge, pianist Oscar Peterson easily emerges as the most impressive soloist; better to acquire the magnificent collaborations of the 1950s instead.

Recorded in June 1960, Swingin' on the Town was a bit of a retro affair at the time, since swing was no longer popular dance music, nor the cutting edge of jazz. Still, Eldridge was one of the best swing trumpeters of any era, and his music continued to deepen over the years; there was no reason for him not to play swing standards if he could still make them sound fresh. Throughout Swingin' on the Town, he does make it sound fresh. It helps that he's supported by bassist Benny Moten, pianist Ronnie Ball and drummer Eddie Locke, who keep things lively, but Eldridge is the focus here, and his performances are supple, swinging and charming. He doesn't do anything out of the ordinary, but he delivers the expected with grace. Not a major album in his catalog, but certainly an enjoyable one.

Eldridge's final recording as a leader is a real gem. Although his chops were no longer in prime form, he was still pushing himself to the limit. With a brilliant rhythm section egging him on (pianist Oscar Peterson, bassist Niels Pedersen, and drummer Bobby Durham), Eldridge still went for the high notes (and generally hit them) during this exciting set from the 1977 Montreux Jazz Festival. Although the musicians did not know it at the time, the last two songs ("Perdido" and "Bye Bye Blackbird") were a perfect ending to a brilliant career.

The Krupa band of 1941 to 1943 had two great forces in it with the addition of trumpeter Roy Eldridge and vocalist Anita O'Day replacing Irene Day. Eldridge almost singlehandedly transformed the orchestra from a pop-based dance band to a more jazz-inspired one, and O'Day was simply the most swinging singer Krupa ever had in the fold. Highlights include a wild "After You've Gone," "Stop! The Red Light's On," "Let Me Off Uptown," "Thanks for the Boogie Ride," "Knock Me a Kiss," "Bop Boogie," and the previously unissued "Barrelhouse Bessie From Basin Street." Those interested in Krupa's career as a bandleader should start with this one.

What It's All About is swinging, building up solos to potentially ferocious levels and going for broke. That was always the philosophy that Roy Eldridge followed and, even though it was rather late in his career by the time he recorded this Pablo set, he was still pushing himself. His septet on the album is full of talented veterans including altoist Norris Turney, Budd Johnson on tenor, pianist Norman Simmons, and (on half of the set) vibraphonist Milt Jackson. The music (three Eldridge originals and two obscurities) features plenty of lengthy and spirited soloing.

Part of his five sessions that featured duets with different trumpeters, pianist Oscar Peterson's matchup with trumpeter Roy Eldridge has its strong moments. Eldridge did not quite have the range of his earlier years, but his competitive streak had not mellowed with age. Peterson pushes Eldridge to his limit and the music is generally quite exciting. Highlights include "Little Jazz," "Sunday," and "Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea."

Dan Morganstern makes an excellent point in his liner notes when he laments the tendency to refer to Roy Eldridge as a “link between Louis Armstrong and Dizzy Gillespie.” For one thing, Diz eschewed the kind of brilliant trumpet tone that characterized the work of Eldridge and Armstrong. Considered in this light, if one starts with Armstrong’s early achievements and then looks for anything like that kind of distilled joy in all the subsequent history of the music, one gets no further than the spectacular sides the man they called “Little Jazz” made for Columbia in January 1937. There’s just no one after that to “link” to, ever…