The dawning of the ‘60s found the profligation of traditional jazz was being wrung in with a veritable array of sub-genre spectaculars. There were so many new derivations of the genre that attempting to pigeonhole any group or sound led to consternation. That being said, there was really no other way to dub soul-jazz apart from just calling it what it was.

There had always been a blues element to jazz – even knotty bop solos were, on occasion, dealt over top of a familiar sounding progression. But with folks like Big John Patton and Grant Green kicking around, the soul quotient to jazz was about to be ratcheted up.

And in noting those two players – Patton and Green  - it’s interesting to figure that both worked in a variety of different settings, but always managed to properly compliment each other. Green played in Patton’s ensembles pretty frequently during the early half of the ‘60s, but alongside all of that, the pair went in as sidemen on a few dates led by other players.

Working out Don Wilkerson’s final album together – along with Ben Dixon on drums, who had worked with Patton and Green in a trio setting previously – may have led to some spectacular moments. But for whatever reason, the forth session that Wilkerson led, the third for Blue Note, in just about three years didn’t garner the gutsy, sax playing Texan any notoriety.

Beginning as a sideman for B.B. King and Ray Charles during the fifties, the sax player had an impeccable musical lineage. And subsequent to working with Canonball Adderly, Wilkerson earned the chance to record a long player in 1960 that was produced by his former boss.

The disc wasn’t a bummer, but also didn’t result in any sort of wide spread stardom. Preach Brother! was released next even as Elder Don was Wilkerson’s first recorded date for the Blue Note imprint. And while Patton is absent from the proceedings, Green makes his presence felt almost immediately.

On the album’s opener, “Jeenie Weenie,” Green and Wilkerson basically follow each other around the song’s progression as each takes turns soloing. It’s an early testament to Green’s ability as a musician.

More interestingly, though, is the funky “Dem Tambourines.” Beginning with a spate of hand-claps and some vocal whooping, the track actually sounds like an outtake from a Big John Patton record. The percussive tambourine is as much of a star as anything else even while Green begins the track with some simple single notes. With such plain, yet effective backing, Wilkerson takes off on a solo that incorporates Green’s initial statement, but expands it into an enormous sputtering blues solo. “Dem Tambourines” isn’t the definitive soul jazz track, but it is a pretty good indication of what Wilkerson wanted to do musically.

Unfortunately, a year latter would be the end of Wilkerson’s career leading dates. He would return to Texas and work as a sideman until the time of his death during the mid ‘80s. Relative anonymity aside, Wilkerson made good on a musical career. And even if he left a scant four discs behind, each warrants a few spins.