In commenting on the career of trumpeter Eddie Gale it’s pretty much always noted that his first two dates as a group leader – 1968’s Ghetto Music and 1969’s Black Rhythm Happening – were personally financed by the man behind Blue Note Records, Francis Wolff. That’s a vote of confidence if there ever has been one. But there’re very specific reasons as to why Wolff would throw down his own cash to back a pair of discs that would soon be relegated to thrift shops and resale stores.

Born in Brooklyn, Gale grew up surrounded by the east coast jazz cognoscenti, even counting Bud Powell as a neighbor. It was in this environment that the young trumpet player was able to roam around, here some strong bop improvisers, return home, hash it out and eventually sit in with those that he admired.

Performing early on with the likes of Jackie McLean, Cecil Taylor and Larry Young, Gale would very quickly cement a reputation as a top tier player. He didn’t work in the mold of a Coltrane or Davis, but was still able to meld traditional, bluesy melodies with some more forward thinking, avant ideas.

As all of this was going on, though, Blue Note Records had hit the skids financially and was in the process of being incorporated into the Liberty Records family. The poor well-being of the label is what eventually led Wolff to shell out some cash to get those albums made. But of course, Gale’s obvious talent had at least a little to do with it.

The first of the two discs, Ghetto Music, isn’t an extended effort coming in at only 40 minutes over the space of five songs. What makes the album unique, to a degree, is the fact that Gale assembled a rather sizable group to accompany him here – there’s that 11 member choir that crops up repeatedly throughout the album.

The breadth of instrumentation and vocals used on Ghetto Music makes each track something of an oddity. While “Walk with Thee” arrives as a march, the solos that Gale turns in refutes the simplicity of the backing music. Eventually Richard Hackett (drums) catches up to Gale and lets loose a whir of cymbals and toms. Russell Lyle contributes some breathy sax work just before that choir kicks in. And as one might anticipate the inclusion of vocals becoming a distraction in such a setting, somehow it’s not.

No one would posit that including some more muscular soloing would hurt Ghetto Music, but as a sizable amount of time is dedicated to that choir, it becomes clear that the voices add a weird mystical quality to the proceedings even if “Walk with Thee” momentarily sounds like music that might accompany a Star Trek episode.

With Ghetto Music receiving a proper re-issue relatively recently, there’s been a spate of glowing reviews that all mention the cultural importance of the recording. That’s all well and good – and intended by Gale. But what makes the disc something good to listen to is the fact that it’s a heartfelt collection of sounds.