Not many jazz saxophone players bring most of the landmark stages of the instrument's evolution together in an on-the-fly improvisational setting without it sounding like musical tourism. Sonny Rollins and Joe Lovano are leading examples, and so is the majestic David Murray, who whirls up from romantic Ben Webster-like smoke-rings to vocalised free-jazz wails without dropping a stitch here. Murray is nowadays often to be found either paying creative tributes to John Coltrane, or making a ruggedly vivacious world music with non-jazz players from Morocco and elsewhere. But this reissued 1988 set represents Murray at his most accessible. From the opening Valley Talk, with its intensifying showers of tenor-sax notes over a sultry tango, through the bluesy saunter of Chazz to the novelty song for Jean Michel Basquiat that becomes a brooding blues, the music is strong, sensuous, and effortlessly masterly in the way its varied materials are juggled. It would make a fine Murray primer for newcomers.