Archie Shepp is pretty adept at moving in and out of various jazz mediums. He never got into fusion, which is probably for the best. But he also never really innovated in the way that some of this cohort did throughout the '60s.

Shepp appeared on a few pretty influential recordings in addition to leading some, but even these efforts seem to be given over to some sort of rehashing of other's ideas. It can't be said that he ripped people off, but again, anything that he recorded had basically been worked out before hand by other players. That's not necessarily a good thing to have associated with your career, but that's how it goes.

With all of that, though, Shepp did work in the free vein pretty well. But even before that, his playful interpolations of other's songs set him on a path to renown. The 1966 Live in San Francisco featured some fierce musicianship on not just the part of Shepp, but his crew which included some players that wouldn't exactly be considered well known. But the track listing on this album sports two Ellington compositions in addition to "Lady Sings the Blues." Obviously, one can't fault a player for being beholden to the classics, as it were, but here it's pretty telling. That last track mentioned wouldn't be recognized in its form under any circumstances, which in some ways makes it a work uniquely by Shepp. But all of this still points to the fact that even if the tenor player worked in a 'new' mold it was still a mold nonetheless.

As the decade progressed it seemed that more and more players were seeking to incorporate an African influence into jazz. The results arguably birthed some new age nonsense, but the efforts that worked are stunning to say the least. The Magic of Ju Ju may have been Shepp's greatest success in a studio, but live things were completely different.

Even if the saxophonist wasn't the most influential player from the period, his thirst for new settings was still admirable. And on an Actuel Records date, Shepp was able to take Grachan Moncur III and a few others to the Pan-African Festival. If you've seen The Battle of Algiers, the Fanon inspired anti-imperialist diatribe, the music during much of that serves as a basis for Shepp and his side men to work out some improvs.

At times it's difficult to discern one sound from the next - a series of bleating horns punctuates the nonstop thud of African percussion on "Brotherhood at Ketchauoa." The weird, winding path that the scourge of horns creates is probably going to be too much for most listeners. And while there's a definite melodic idea there, it's not based on anything too familiar to western audiences.

There are occasional breaks in the action for either chanting or Shepp to proclaim the black heritage of jazz. While he doesn't speak a false hood, by '69 he was hardly the first to make such claims. But as for most of the Actuel catalog, the nonsense that accompanies this releases is more than aptly suppressed by the quality of the music.