Edgy, volatile hard bop that comes from the mind as much as the soul, finding Ervin at a creative peak.
By 1968, hard bop had been written off by some as yesterday's music, but Booker Ervin had other ideas. The In Between catches him in a stubborn, brilliant mood — determined to prove that straight-ahead jazz still had room for challenge and invention without abandoning swing. The album consists of half a dozen originals, each one taut and purposeful, built on the kind of compositional thinking that rewards close listening.
What makes this record stick is its refusal to choose between intellect and feel. Ervin's tenor saxophone lines cut with precision, but they're never cold; they have grit and urgency underneath the cerebral architecture. The rhythm section locks into these pieces with the kind of attentiveness that comes from musicians who know exactly what their bandleader is after. There's no padding, no searching. These are finished ideas played with conviction.
Allmusic reviewer Stephen Thomas Erlewine heard this as a satisfying set of adventurous hard bop, and that assessment holds. Cook and Morton of The Penguin Guide to Jazz understood what Ervin was doing too — showing that without needing to chase free jazz or the avant-garde, hard bop could demand just as much from its players. That's the whole record in one sentence: a case made simply, by a saxophonist who knew his instrument and his ideas inside out.