Schifrin frames Tjader's vibraphone in arrangements that balance western kitsch and eastern exotica without tipping too far either way.
Several Shades of Jade arrived in 1963 without fanfare. It peaked at 79 on the Billboard 200—respectable enough for a specialist release, but hardly a breakthrough. The album didn't ignite immediate critical attention, and it hasn't built a major reputation over time either. It remains what it was on arrival: a solid curiosity from a bandleader willing to follow his restless appetite for new sounds, even if the commercial audience wasn't waiting.
That restraint is exactly what makes it worth hearing. Arranger Lalo Schifrin frames Tjader's meditative vibraphone against charts that refuse the obvious moves—no gongs crashing on cue, no melodies lifted straight from operetta. Instead there's a cool detachment to these recordings, a sense that both musicians understood the artifice of the whole idea and decided to make something honest from it anyway. Tjader's solos sit in space rather than swimming through lush orchestration, which keeps the focus on what he actually does well: thoughtful, unrushed phrasing.
AllMusic reviewer Stewart Mason noted the album "succeeds more often than it fails," which captures the thing exactly. It's not a masterpiece and it's not essential, but it's a legitimate experiment from two strong musicians who could afford to take a risk that didn't need to pay off commercially.