If you only know one Les McCann record, it's probably Swiss Movement (1969), the live album he cut at Montreux with saxophonist Eddie Harris. "Compared to What" is on there, and it's one of those songs that just barrels through you — funky, angry, funny, and completely alive. That track alone made McCann's name, and honestly it's a fair introduction, because it captures what he did best: turning jazz into something you could dance to and shout along with.

McCann grew up in Lexington, Kentucky, singing in church, and you can hear that background in everything he played. He wasn't interested in being cool or cerebral. His piano style was rooted in gospel chords and blues phrasing, closer to Ray Charles than to bebop pianists chasing Bud Powell. He sang plenty too, in a rough, warm voice that sounded like it belonged more to a soul singer than a jazz musician, which was kind of the point.

He recorded for Pacific Jazz through the late fifties and sixties, building a catalog of soul jazz that leaned hard into groove — records like Les McCann Ltd. in New York (1961) show him working a trio format with real swagger, comfortable being both entertainer and serious musician at the same time. That combination didn't always earn him respect from jazz critics who wanted their artists a little more austere, but audiences loved him, and he kept packing rooms for decades.

What people sometimes forget is that McCann had a good ear for talent beyond his own playing. He's the one who got Atlantic Records to listen to a young singer named Roberta Flack, which changed her career and, honestly, did a service to everybody who's ever heard "Killing Me Softly." That's the kind of thing that doesn't show up on his own records but tells you something about the guy — generous, plugged in, paying attention. He kept performing into his later years despite health problems, still leading with that same gospel-fired energy that made "Compared to What" hit as hard as it did.