When mentioning guitar within the world of jazz, it’d be understandable if most folks thought of the electrified version – or even old tyme, hollow bodies that were amplified in some way as opposed to nylon stringed instruments we might associate more with classical styles. Michael Gregory Jackson, who recorded under his first and middle name to alleviate the obvious confusion, seemed to enjoy working with whatever guitar he had, not just electric. And on his first date as a session leader, the 1976 Clarity, listeners will find Jackson’s inclination towards the inclusion of that nylon stringed instrument to jive pretty well with the supporting music.

Performing and recording frequently with Oliver Lake, Jackson was able to coax the better known reedsman into working on this earlier career album. Lake, a multi instrumentalist seemed to have been able to anticipate the improvisations of his underling. And while there’s a great deal of composed music here, when everyone involved lets loose – relatively – there’s a joyful racket raised that can’t too easily be replicated by any random assemblage of acoustic players.

While the album sports no proper drummer – although lake takes up the mantle a few times while resting his pipes – there’s still an overarching rhythmic concept being played out in Jackson’s pairing his guitar lines with Lake, David Murray or Leo Smith’s playing.

Counting such a strong pair of co-conspirators should hint at Jackson’s prowess on guitar. On the aptly titled “Oliver Lake,” once the predetermined section of the piece is dispensed, the pair go in on a spritely, occasionally cacophonous back and forth with Lake better figuring out times to pause. But the interplay is able to summon as much interest in its timing and rhythm as in melodic concept – which is there, just obfuscated by a few call and response sections, the best of which closes out the track.

There’s not a great deal of chording going on over the course of Clarity’s eight tracks, “Prelueoionti”  is completely focused on Jackson’s guitar. One of only two solo features, this track allows Jackson to move towards an exploration of terrain perhaps best suited for an out Segovia, or some other classically trained player.

It’s not a let down – nor is the vast majority of the disc. However, opening the album up with the title track, a vocal cut, wasn’t the best way to pull listeners in. But if you’re able to make it past those four minutes of seventies’ clichés, it’s gonna be a rewarding listen.