Duke Ellington is responsible for some of the most well known and memorable melodic figures in jazz, if not in American music. His compositions have been adapted in every land, for every purpose imaginable. And while, he counted an enormous cast of supporting players, Duke sought to work with their individual talents as opposed to forcing each man into some mold that he wasn't fit for.

Perhaps the songs that Duke is most associated with, "Caravan" for example, weren't even his compositions. But because of his inclusive attitude towards creating music, he never begrudged an underling some opportunity to feature a talent, composition or solo. And for that, Duke can have said to have maintained a well endowed big band for almost fifty years, some players remaining in his employ for decades.

Growing up, though, Duke was raised in the nation's capitol. Both of his parents, being rather erudite, sought to expose their son to as many cultural trappings as possible. And by the time that Duke was seven years old, he'd begun piano lessons. Considering that both of his parents plied the keys, it was a sensible move. The bizarre contrast to all of this, though, was the fact that during the first decade of the twentieth century, black folks were basically restricted to a specific stratum of life - one that so called refined culture wasn't necessarily a common part of. So as Duke grew up amidst some of the most powerful people in the world, his parents were relegated to menial work - his father occasionally catered at White House functions.

Out of this, though, Duke was able to amass one of the most recognizable and melodically diverse song books in American music. The aforementioned "Caravan" and its sister piece "Perdido" could be considered one of the earliest jazz acclimations of Spanish melodies. Of course, Dizzy generally takes that honor, but the fact that both of those tunes were recorded during the late '30s as the trumpeter was still a sideman, points to Ellington's (and Juan Tizol who wrote the tune) innovation.

As Ellington's prowess waned during the bop era and subsequent movements, he often attempted to reinvent himself - as would any other sensible business man. And as his recordings began to sport the names of colors, his big band approach turned to more intimate settings. There were still a great many players, but each track seemed to be more wide open and more inviting for soloists to avail themselves to these tunes.

The 1957 Indigos isn't generally considered a high water mark in the Ellington catalog and it doesn't really need to be drastically reconsidered. But the two sides of ballads - even if there are a few instances of singing getting in the way - show Duke being able to support his band as aptly as they, him. A few moments, though, do point to his past achievements, but it remains a fact that in the right company, Duke was still able to lead a band as well as any other. And if nothing else, the version of "Mood Indigo" included here is well worth hunting the disc down.