Sorcerer, the third album by the second Miles Davis Quintet, is in a sense a transitional album, a quiet, subdued affair that rarely blows hot, choosing to explore cerebral tonal colorings. Even when the tempo picks up, as it does on the title track, there's little of the dense, manic energy on Miles Smiles – this is about subtle shadings, even when the compositions are as memorable as Tony Williams' "Pee Wee" or Herbie Hancock's "Sorcerer." As such, it's a little elusive, since it represents the deepening of the band's music as they choose to explore different territory. The emphasis is as much on complex, interweaving chords and a coolly relaxed sound as it is on sheer improvisation, though each member tears off thoroughly compelling solos. Still, the individual flights aren't placed at the forefront the way they were on the two predecessors – it all merges together, pointing toward the dense soundscapes of Miles' later '60s work.

Miles Davis' concert of February 12, 1964, was divided into two LPs, with all of the ballads put on My Funny Valentine. These five lengthy tracks (specifically, "All of You," "Stella by Starlight," "All Blues," "I Thought About You," and the title cut) put the emphasis on the lyricism of Davis, along with some strong statements from tenor saxophonist George Coleman and freer moments from the young rhythm section of pianist Herbie Hancock, bassist Ron Carter, and drummer Tony Williams. This hour-long LP complements the up-tempo romps of Four & More.

For a short time in the late '50s trumpeter Dizzy Reece was an up-and-coming jazz artist. However, success eluded him and he quietly faded into obscurity, only occasionally releasing material after the early '60s. As a matter of fact, the sessions that became Comin' On! languished in the Blue Note vaults for almost four decades. Rediscovered in 1999, these dates feature six well-rounded hard bop compositions by Reece along with three standards. The tracks from April 3, 1960, not only document the Blue Note debut of tenor saxophonist Stanley Turrentine but also employ the talents of the Jazz Messengers' rhythm section of the time, pianist Bobby Timmons, bassist Jymie Merritt, and drummer Art Blakey. By July 17, 1960, the only musician remaining from the previous date was Turrentine, sharing tenor duties with Musa Kaleem, who is also heard on flute. (The later session's rhythm section had changed to pianist Duke Jordan, bassist Sam Jones, and drummer Al Harewood.) Neglected, although spirited, sessions from an underrated trumpeter and composer.

ESP marks the beginning of a revitalization for Miles Davis, as his second classic quintet – saxophonist Wayne Shorter, pianist Herbie Hancock, bassist Ron Carter, and drummer Tony Williams – gels, establishing what would become their signature adventurous hard bop. Miles had been moving toward this direction in the two years preceding the release of ESP and he had recorded with everyone outside of Shorter prior to this record, but his addition galvanizes the group, pushing them toward music that was recognizably bop but as adventurous as jazz's avant-garde. Outwardly, this music doesn't take as many risks as Coltrane or Ornette Coleman's recordings of the mid-'60s, but by borrowing some of the same theories – a de-emphasis of composition in favor of sheer improvisation, elastic definitions of tonality – they created a unique sound that came to define the very sound of modern jazz. Certainly, many musicians have returned to this group for inspiration, but their recordings remain fresh, because they exist at this fine dividing line between standard bop and avant.

Kind of Blue isn't merely an artistic highlight for Miles Davis, it's an album that towers above its peers, a record generally considered as the definitive jazz album, a universally acknowledged standard of excellence. Why does Kind of Blue possess such a mystique? Perhaps because this music never flaunts its genius. It lures listeners in with the slow, luxurious bassline and gentle piano chords of "So What." From that moment on, the record never really changes pace – each tune has a similar relaxed feel, as the music flows easily. Yet Kind of Blue is more than easy listening. It's the pinnacle of modal jazz – tonality and solos build from the overall key, not chord changes, giving the music a subtly shifting quality. All of this doesn't quite explain why seasoned jazz fans return to this record even after they've memorized every nuance. They return because this is an exceptional band – Miles, Coltrane, Bill Evans, Cannonball Adderley, Paul Chambers, Jimmy Cobb – one of the greatest in history, playing at the peak of its power.

The Most Important Jazz Album of 1964/65 was the first album trumpeter/vocalist Chet Baker recorded upon returning to the United States in 1964. Jazz had undergone a radical development post-1963 with artists such as John Coltrane and Wayne Shorter beginning to focus on complex harmonic explorations over pretty melody. Having spent the prior three years in Europe, falling deeper into heroin addiction, Baker found himself a pleasant, if somewhat forgotten, anachronism of the previous decade. Consequently, the icon of '50s cool attempted to reinvigorate his career and showcase his musical growth by enlisting the sensitive piano chops of Hal Galper and old collaborator tenor saxophonist Phil Urso. The new sideman, combined with a heavy dose of Tadd Dameron's compositions, gave Baker a more muscular edge that rubbed nicely with his trademark lyricism updating his sound for the hard bop '60s – a decade that would end, however, with Baker losing his teeth and falling into obscurity.

Trumpeter Lee Morgan performs two funky boogaloos, a ballad, and three complex group originals on this album whose music was first released in 1980. This is a transitional date with the hard bop stylist leaning in the direction of modal music and even anticipating aspects of fusion. His sextet (which includes Bennie Maupin on tenor, guitarist George Benson, pianist John Hicks, bassist Reggie Workman, and drummer Billy Higgins) is quite advanced for the period and inspires Morgan to some fiery and explorative playing.

One of the great jazz trumpeters of all time, Freddie Hubbard formed his sound out of the Clifford Brown/Lee Morgan tradition, and by the early '70s was immediately distinctive and the pacesetter in jazz.

During his extended "stay" in Europe circa the late '50s and early '60s, Chet Baker produced half a dozen albums for the Riverside Records subsidiary label Jazzland. On Chet Baker in Milan – the first of his overseas sides – Baker revisits the familiar stomping grounds of West Coast cool, even though he is the only American in the band. The basic quartet includes Chet Baker (trumpet), Renato Sellani (piano), Franco Serri (bass), and Gene Victory (drums). However, on a majority of the cuts, that unit is upgraded to a sextet with sax players Glauco Masetti (alto) and Gianno Basso (tenor). According to Peter Drew's brief liner notes essay, these Italian players were found by a local record label and arrangements were essentially retrofitted to suit Baker.

The quality of Chet Baker's product was so varied during the last decade or more of his life that recording sessions varied markedly. For this "remixed version" of Mr. B Baker sounds a tad tired, though his chops are in fine form. The studio recording captures the trumpeter with highly sympathetic and self-effacing pianist Michel Grallier and bassist Ricardo Del Fra, both of whom engage in the leader's brand of sensitivity. There are no vocals by the trumpeter, but plenty of improvising. The interesting tune selection features a few songs played often by Baker (such as Wayne Shorter's "Dolphin Dance" and Horace Silver's "Strollin'"), but several that are not associated with him at all (Grallier's "White Blues" and his gorgeous "Father X-mas," to name a couple). There is a sadness permeating the trumpeter's sound throughout, exacerbated by the lazy, sometimes sluggish, tempos. A deep and touching beauty can be felt, marking this as one of Chet's best from the period.