Having a recording career that spans just about sixty years is as impressive as any other achievement a musician might count. But even in those rare situations where longevity isn't all too important, the quality throughout much of the Ahmad Jamal catalog is on par with many of the most well known 20^th Century masters. He's not a Coltrane, or a Hancock, but Jamal gets the job done in economical fashion.

And it's for this reason that both Miles Davis and Coltrane utilized compositional ideas - and even progressions - from Jamal's work. It can't be said that Kind of Blue wouldn't exist if not for Jamal's influence, but take a listen to anything off of the album by Davis and then toss on some mid '50s work from Jamal and figure the relationship.

Jamal isn't a case for intellectualized jazzbos, though. Surely, he's as steeped in modal theoretics as anyone was from the era in which he gained acclaim, but there's a bit more to him. Coming up through the ranks of larger ensembles, much like everyone else who performed during the '50s, Jamal never counted any huge names as bosses, but instead created a mystique about himself with his small groups. And obtaining a residency at the Pershing in Los Angeles didn't hurt too much either. It's as a result of this gig that Jamal was able to record his most enduring disc - Live at the Pershing. Fortunately or not, that disc had some pop success. So, while Jamal enjoyed the market place accolades, critics and other jazzbos decried his inclusion into the popular music lexicon. Jealous? Who knows...

By the '60s Jamal was as big a name on keys as any other player. And while his style still wasn't as jarring as some other players making a name for themselves at the time, he had settled upon a specific track. The incorporation of electric keyboards might have set him ahead of the curve, but with this switch, Jamal wouldn't again achieve the same sort of musicality as he did in the previous decade.

Even later, during the '70s, Jamal sought to include elements of other culture's music into his own playing. And on his 1978 album One, the lead off track sports a pervasive reggae tinge towards the end of the track. Again Jamal displeased critics, but perhaps he snagged a few open minded fusion fans in the process.

The remainder of the disc moves around in '70s pop flair using slow disco or funk as a basis for much of what pads out the album. One certainly isn't a high point in Jamal's catalog. His using an electric keyboard on the date removes a layer of intimacy so associated with his playing that in more than a few ways, the album flops. It doesn't ever seem that Jamal is seeking to cop whatever was cool at the time. But if he sounds comfortable in the setting, he probably was - he's a talented player. But other dates better define and explicate his unique style.