Elvin's Rare Moment of Pure Fire
Jones plays like he's trying to shake the drums apart, in the best way possible.
Very Rare catches Elvin Jones at a moment when he's still hungry to prove something. This isn't a famous album, and that matters—it exists in the margins of his catalog, which means you're hearing him without the weight of expectation. What you get is a drummer who's absorbed everything from swing to bebop to the harder stuff that was coming, and he's using it all at once. The interplay between the musicians feels genuinely spontaneous, like they're figuring things out in real time rather than executing a plan. Jones's playing here is aggressive and searching, never settling into a comfortable groove when there's more to explore.
The sessions showcase Jones in his element as a bandleader rather than a sideman, and that distinction matters. He's not just keeping time or providing swing—he's pushing the conversation, asking questions with his sticks. The other players respond with energy that suggests they understand what he's after. There's no wasted space, no songs that feel like filler, and the recording quality is clean enough that you can hear exactly what each drummer is doing without guessing.
This isn't the album to start with if you want an entry point to Elvin Jones. But if you already know his work and want to hear him at a specific moment—young, driving, not yet a household name in jazz circles—this is the thing. It's for people who like the earlier, hungrier versions of famous musicians more than their later refinements. Very Rare doesn't have the polish or fame of his best-known recordings, but it has something more valuable: the sound of someone still on a mission.
Who's playing
Where next?
More by Elvin Jones
All 13 albums →
The musicians on this record
Their own records, close in time
