Tyner swings hard here, proving the piano could anchor modern jazz with both power and grace.
Today and Tomorrow stands as one of McCoy Tyner's early triumphs, a record where his massive, orchestral approach to the piano finally feels completely at home. This isn't Tyner the sideman finding his voice—it's Tyner the bandleader, confident and commanding. The album moves between standards and originals with an ease that suggests a musician who knows exactly what he wants from his instrument and his band. The title itself hints at the record's pull: Tyner plays yesterday's songs but channels them toward something new, something that sounds like tomorrow.
What makes this record distinct is how Tyner uses space and weight. His left hand anchors everything in blues-rooted harmony while his right hand cascades with the fluidity of modal exploration. The rhythm section locks in tight, and the horn players—whoever joins him here—navigate around his broad, confident comping without ever sounding crowded. Tyner doesn't play busy; he plays full. On the standards, he respects the melody enough to set it up clearly, but then he stretches, reimagines, pushes the tune forward. The originals show a composer thinking about how to balance accessibility with genuine innovation.
This is essential early Tyner, the point where his style crystallized into something recognizable and powerful. It's not his most famous session, but it's the record that shows why he mattered as a leader. If you're coming to Tyner for the first time, you could start here and understand immediately why he commanded such respect. It's direct, swinging, and completely honest about what modern jazz piano could do.