Billboard 03/30/1957
Score of 77

Still another on the Silver–Mobley–Byrd collections, but this time with the lesser-accepted Mobley name on top. However, there are additional sparks here from the addition of another trumpet, 18-year-old phenom Lee Morgan. He and Byrd conduct some highly stimulating battles thru the four extended numbers, all in the typical Horace Silver “funky modern” vein. Mobley comes up with plenty of ideas on tenor, and once his technique can keep pace with his fertile mind, this will be a hard man to top.

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Cash Box : 04/06/1957

This is high-powered stuff from some men who can dish it out. The sextet, featuring Hank Mobley on tenor sax and the trumpets of Donald Byrd and Lee Morgan trace a torrid swinging line from one session to the next. The numbers, whose titles indicate the pace here, were all written by Mobley. Horace Silver has lots of room to howl at the keyboard. Skilled musicians at their sprightly best.

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Down Beat : 05/02/1957
Nat Hentoff : 4.5 stars

A well-integrated, consistently stimulating young-blood blowing session. Mobley‘s playing here is among his best on records. He has arrived at his sound goal for the tenor: “Not a big sound, not a small sound, just a round sound.” His conception continues to grow, and there’s no question of his swinging.

Byrd and Morgan are among the more arresting of the younger trumpeters. Byrd is in lucid form here. Dig him in the medium Funk. Morgan’s voice is somewhat crisper than Byrd’s, and his playing on this set reinforces the unusually strong impression his recent records have made.

The rhythm section is excellent, and Silver, who is apparently becoming Blue Note’s house pianist, adds a powerful solo voice, as does Chambers. All the writing is by Hank; the lines are entertaining (I especially liked the fan-fareish opener) and the few ensemble passages are intelligently arranged. A substantial cooking class all the way.

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Liner Notes by Leonard Feather

Nobody who has kept pace with the fast-moving jazz scene in recent years is likely to be unfamiliar with the name of Hank Mobley, summa cum laude graduate of many a star-laden record session. Though Hank has been present on so many dates (especially at Blue Note) that he had become a veteran in my mind, the fact is that he has only basked in the limelight for two or three years, and as recently as 1951 was an obscure gigging musician around Newark. This observation does not in any way diminish the pleasure to be found in an aural inspection of his works, past or present, for once aboard the Hudson Tubes to the big time, he matured with impressive celerity.

Hank’s story has been outlined briefly in earlier comments on the Messengers and other groups with which he recorded for this label. Born in 1930, he spent most of the first 19 years of his life in Elizabeth, N.J.

His choice of the tenor sax as a medium of expression was a little unexpected in view of his background, for as Hank says, “I come from a piano family.” His grandmother, mother and uncle were all pianists; but the uncle dug Lester Young, and Pres became Hank’s idol during his student days. “Then I went down the line to Dexter Gordon – I liked to listen to Don Byas, too. Anyone who can swing and get a message across.”

Perhaps the first important influence was Sonny Stitt, who was first known primarily as an alto man and whose tenor work reflected his alto background. “Sonny had what I was looking for and was the most polished musician.” Hank’s concept of the right tone on tenor is: “Not a big sound, not a small sound, just a round sound.” Later he was no less impressed by Sonny Rollins.

During these early days, from 1949 to ’51, he was living in Newark. He went on the road with a rhythm and blues band led by Paul Gayten, but got his first jazz break in one of a series of local jam sessions when Max Roach, who was sitting in, had the opportunity to hear him. The next day Max called Hank, and they opened together at the Apollo Bar on 125th Street in Manhattan, staying there for a couple of months.

Max used Hank on many gigs after that, off and on until June, 1953. At that time, on Roach’s departure for the west coast, Hank found that he had made enough contacts to keep fairly busy free-lancing around town with such notables as J.J. Johnson, Milt Jackson and Miles Davis. From March until September ’54 he was with John Gillespie‘s small combo; this stint was followed by a job with Horace Silver at Minton’s Play House.

By January, 1955 the group that was soon to gain wide acceptance under the name of the Jazz Messengers had begun to crystallize, and it was then, Hank felt, that he and his colleagues began to get a good groove going, one that produced many outstanding performances (preserved on Blue Note 1507, 1508, 1518), until the original Messengers disintegrated in the summer of 1956 (as this writer observed at the time in Down Beat, they were noticeably affected by their de-Mobleyzation.)

Not until early fall did things start moving in a straight line again, when Horace Silver picked up a couple of the members of the group and began to play clubs with them under his own name. (BLP 1539 shows how this new unit sounds.)

For his own session Hank had the unusual idea of flanking himself with two trumpets. The front line thus consists of three B Flat horns. (“It gave us a limited range, and it was a challenge to make the writing interesting. We used a certain amount of closed voicing, some unison lines, some double thirds; I think the ensembles got a good blend.”)

Hank’s compositional ability is emblazoned in the opening grooves, for Touch and Go sets a spirited mood, with an introduction that combines a fanfare atmosphere with some prominently placed Persip percussion. The main theme makes economical use of three-note phrases. At this accelerated pace Horace has the first of a series of exciting solos. The amazing facility of Lee Morgan is demonstrated next (those who are making their first acquaintance with the 18-year-old wizard are advised to look for Lee’s own sets on 1538 and 1541). Then Hank enters the scene; cautiously at first, playing only two short notes in the first four bars, but gradually building with a compelling intensity and assurance. Donald Byrd (a 24-year-old Detroiter and an ex-Messenger himself) follows, evidencing a tone that is slightly more biting than Lee’s, though their styles are basically rooted in the same school. A typically delightful bowed solo by Paul Chambers precedes the workout of Charlie’s sticks; then there’s a series of fours with Donald and Lee in that order before the reprise of the theme.

Double Whammy, taken at a brisk through somewhat easier pace, is based on a different and pleasant chord sequence. Again the emphasis is on cooking solos, the order being as follows: Hank, Lee, Donald, Horace, ensemble and drums fours, then an eight-bar chase pattern with Donald first, Lee second, and closing ensemble.

Barrel Of Funk, a medium-tempo theme, is built mainly around the tonic, with harmonic changes below it to lend variety. Donald swings in a style that recalls some of the qualities of Howard McGhee at this tempo. Hank’s dynamic control is attractively evident in his well-phrased solo. He’s followed by Lee, Horace, a pizzicato Chambers, and theme.

Mobleymania again shows the resourceful use to which Hank put the three horns in fashioning bright, moving themes. Lee has the first solo; note the harmonic and rhythmic ingenuity of many ideas in his second chorus, which leads into Donald’s solo. Possibly because of the challenge that preceded him, Byrd too is particularly fleet and fanciful on his choruses. Hank then takes over commandingly, his time, tone and phrasing at their most convincing – watch particularly the interesting convolutions of the second eight measures in his second chorus. Horace sounds very sprightly in a neat solo; Chambers bows a couple before the melody returns.

In short, this was a cooking session in which you will not only observe all the happy symptoms of Mobleymania, but also the contagious corollary of the two horn-holding gentlemen at Hank’s flanks.