 Lucky Thompson Another cool archaeological find from our friends at Beast Retro, I Offer You was sax man Lucky Thompson's last album before quitting the music business – and he must have meant it, because it's now over 25 years on and he's still never made a comeback. This was a nice enough way to go out, I guess. It's a pretty mellow session – straight-ahead quartet stuff with Thompson on soprano and tenor sax, Cedar Walton on electric and acoustic piano, Sam Jones on bass, and Louis Hayes on drums. I think that's almost the same band that made Clifford Jordan's Night of the Mark VII, and the vibe is similar. Very early 70s sound, but not slick like a Freddie Hubbard album from the same era. It's pure jazz, kind of spiritual, but not quite what I expected from the cover and track listing. On the cover, a downcast Lucky is dressed in monk-like robes, and titles like "Aliyah," "The Moment of Truth," "Munsoon" and "Back Home From Yesterday" had me thinking this would be more along the lines of a Pharaoh Sanders album. But there's no yodeling or bells to be found, just good jazz wonderfully played. Lucky is in fine form throughout; "Yesterday's Child" is a standout, very slow and extremely pretty. Walton's electric piano guides most of the songs – I actually like his work on electric piano more than the stuff I've heard by him on acoustic piano – and the whole set is very solid. A version of "Cherokee" closes things up, the only real standard in the set, and it's done really well, though it does sort of underscore the second-tier caliber of the album. Not that there's anything specifically wrong about the album, but it just lacks the spark that makes great jazz records great – an undefinable characteristic that makes one say that Search For the New Land is amazing while I Offer You is very good. It's all subjective, of course, and what's more, who's to say every disc you own has to be a masterpiece? Sometimes a set like this one really hits the spot, and considering Thompson's subsequent silence, we're "lucky" to have it at all, so shush up.
Review by Jenny Lips |