In his accompanying notes, Vandermark writes of the impact Joe McPhee's music had on him when, at the age of seventeen in 1982 via his father, he heard McPhee's album, Tenor, on hat Hut. Suddenly, the free jazz his dad had previously exposed him to, music that he'd been unable to make sense of, clicked into focus. He would come to know McPhee in later years, playing with him in his own ensembles and perhaps most prominently as co-members of Peter Brotzmann's Tentet. But it was only recently that Vandermark had the intriguing idea of doing arrangements of McPhee compositions with the composer as featured soloist, a la the Miles Davis/Gil Evans collaborations.

It's a good idea and I imagine listeners' reactions will be based more on their enjoyment of Vandermark's approach than the themes themselves; to those familiar with McPhee's playing, there could well be a sense that his music is better served when he's dishing it out himself, with his own inimitable brand of rawness, soul and sheer musicality. Vandermark isn't shy about embedding the themes into his own music, seeking a kind of middle ground that both acknowledges the original sounds and seeks to extend them and one imagines that the ensemble (McPhee, tenor; Jason Adasiewicz, vibes; Josh Berman, cornet; Jeb Bishop, trombone; Tim Daisy, drums; Kent Kessler, bass; Fred Lonberg-Holm, cello and electronics; Dave Rempis, saxophones; and Vandermark, clarinets and tenor) does a fine job in interpreting his charts. At the end of the day, the question is: was it worth doing?

He begins with an achingly beautiful, gospel-tinged composition, "Astral Spirits", that opens with a horn chorus that's stunning, sounding as though it could have been arranged by Ellington. The ensemble then kicks in as they move to McPhee's "Age", a sturdy but less moving line, at which point the track becomes a solid, if more or less standard kind of rollicking performance that Vandermark is known for. One wishes the "Astral Spirits" melody, and all it implies, might have been more fully investigated rather than used as only a preamble. Instead you have horn soloists backed by the rhythm section, eventually underpinned by a mournful line from the non-soloing horns. It's fine, robust enough but feels somewhat rudimentary as though the true value of the originals hasn't really been exploited, instead channeled into a standard kind of model, one less structurally free than McPhee himself would often use. "Impressions of Future Retrospective" is more seamlessly integrated, with nods toward Hemphill's "Dogon A.D.", some nice cornet work by Berman and a slide into a strong, avant-funky beat; a solid piece.

A more oblique reading of "Sweet Dragon" skirts around the simple, lovely melody without enhancing it much, more a careful apposition while "Goodbye Tom B.", the piece that originally entranced Vandermark, is handled wonderfully, only horns (McPhee and Vandermark), rich and subtle here, vibrant there, really coming close to the deep beauty of the original. The Lacy-ish (despite the Taylor connotation in the title) "Eroc Tinu" is performed vigorously enough but evolves into standard issue "free" bustle, a too-easy solution, not to mention an overused one. "Impressions of Pablo/Violets for Pia" is calmer, featuring some thoughtful cello but also some overactive drumming; there's less listening going on than one would hope for, though perhaps those were the instructions given. I'm reminded of a smaller scale Barry Guy approach, attempting to weave anthemic lines through a free scrim � here it works about half the time, moving when it does, sounding hastily assembled when it doesn't.

The disc closes with another bluesy piece, "Impressions of Knox", Lonberg-Holms' cello skittering, a baritone (Rempis, I assume) bellowing the basic line, the music attaining a welcome swagger, bringing the disc to a satisfying conclusion.