Playing with three of the most inventive performers in jazz - Charlie Parker, Miles Davis and John Coltrane - hasn't afforded pianist Walter Bishop, Jr. the acclaim that it should. Having been active in the genre from the better part of the 20^th century found this player in every setting, utilizing any means of expression possible to get across some historic perspective on not just jazz, but life. And while he spent some of his time in academia, Bishop never stopped backing up players or touring. And if his book on theory hasn't impacted a generation of players, some folks still hold it in rather high regards.

Being the son of a well renowned composer probably allowed Bishop an early glimpse into what his life was to be. As he grew up in an area of Harlem called Sugar Hill, he found his school age friends to be Sonny Rollins and Art Taylor amongst a few other soon-to-be well known jazzbos. For whatever reason, Bishop didn't end up putting time in with those folks - but he was still more than busy. As he began performing professionally in the '40s, the pianist spread his name over a vast many recordings. But as time wore on, he decided to enter a music program.

By the end of the '60s Bishop had begun studying at Juilliard. And subsequent to his completion of that program, he relocated to Los Angeles to not just further his studies, but to teach and sit in on some local acts. But as the decade gave way to the '70s, Bishop found himself in the position to lead more and more sessions in the studio. Ranging any where from the electric - and eclectic - Black Jazz dates featuring some reinterpretations of "Summertime" in a funky mode, to a few more sedate outings, Bishop accumulated a formidable catalog. It unfortunately remains ignored today.

While the organ workouts on some of those Black Jazz discs should be considered ever bit the equal to the funked up jazz dates that Jimmy Smith led, they aren't. But there was a more introspective side to Bishop as well. And after switching from Black Jazz to Muse, the pianist settled on an imprint called Sea Breeze for his 1976 Soliloquy. The album, while still sporting a track listing of standards is far removed from the danceable releases from earlier in the decade. Bishop, here completely unaccompanied, gives himself the opportunity to interpret some well known tracks.

At points Soliloquy may sound stilted, but the fact that Bishop just sat down and reeled out these melodies is pretty interesting. At the time that this disc was set down, folks that had gone electric didn't necessarily go back wards to reexamine their roots. In this case, though, it was a decent decision. Some of the passages where Bishop gets into improvising on whatever melody he's working with get a bit stagnant. And certainly, nothing here matches the solo Monk outings from the late '50s. Not too much does though.

This date by Bishop is as introspective a set of songs as you'll find in his catalog. And if you need some music to relax to, this might be it.