A trumpet (by Flavio Zanuttini himself, the mastermind behind “Born Baby Born”), an alto sax (Piero Bittolo Bon) and a drumset (Marco D’Orlando). Nothing more: no bass to deepen the rhythm and no harmonic instrument, be it a piano or a guitar.
This set is one of Branford Marsalis' strongest of the 1990s. Marsalis really stretches out on eight numbers including six of his originals (the other two songs are by bassist Bob Hurst). There is one guest appearance apiece from brother-trumpeter Wynton and tenor saxophonist Courtney Pine but otherwise Branford is accompanied only by Hurst and drummer Jeff "Tain" Watts. His playing is often reminiscent in style (but not really sound) of John Coltrane, he is more concise and disciplined than in some of his early-'90s concert appearances and Marsalis is at his most explorative on this inventive blowing session.
When Peabo Bryson and Roberta Flack teamed up in 1983 to record the Capitol album BORN TO LOVE, the pair had already experienced success as a duo thanks to the 1980 LP, Live & More (a Top 10 R&B best-selling album). By the time they headed into the studio to cut BORN TO LOVE, Bryson was six years into his recording career and had established himself as one of the premier black male vocalists of the day; Flack was already considered an internationally-renowned artist thanks to classic recordings such as ‘The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face’ and ‘Killing Me Softly With His Song.’
Albert King recorded a lot in the early '60s, including some classic sides, but they never quite hit the mark. They never gained a large audience, nor did they really capture the ferocity of his single-string leads. Then he signed with Stax in 1966 and recorded a number of sessions with the house band, Booker T. & the MG's, and everything just clicked. The MG's gave King supple Southern support, providing an excellent contrast to his tightly wound lead guitar, allowing to him to unleash a torrent of blistering guitar runs that were profoundly influential, not just in blues, but in rock & roll (witness Eric Clapton's unabashed copping of King throughout Cream's Disraeli Gears).