Exciting music that has long been overshadowed, waiting for listeners ready to hear it.
Action opens with a dry snap—Jackie McLean's alto saxophone cutting into the room with urgency, Charles Tolliver's trumpet answering back just as direct. There's no warmth here, no smooth entry. Bobby Hutcherson on vibes adds color without softening the edge, while Cecil McBee and Billy Higgins lock into a groove that breathes but doesn't swing in any traditional sense. The whole thing feels like five musicians who know exactly what they want to say and aren't interested in making it comfortable.
This was recorded in 1964, when McLean was in his mid-career, past the initial Blue Note signings but still hungry. Action sits somewhere between his more straightforward hard-bop work and something looser—not experimental exactly, but impatient with formula. The tunes move fast, the solos stack up without filler, and nobody's trying to show off. Tolliver, who would later lead his own sessions, plays here like a real voice in the conversation rather than support, and Hutcherson's vibes do things that feel almost modern for the moment, adding texture instead of time-marking.
AllMusic reviewer Scott Yanow gave this 4½ stars, noting that exciting music that had long been overshadowed. That's fair. It's not McLean's most famous record, but it's the kind of album that gets better on repeated listening—not because it reveals hidden depths, but because the directness becomes clearer. If you want to hear McLean when he was still pushing, not looking back, this is the place.