Craft’s Contemporary reissue programme continues apace, and there is no better place to start than with this Art Pepper release from 1960. Pepper’s movie star good looks, captured for the cover by the famous West Coast photographer William Claxton, would soon be eroded by drug addiction. But even then, his was not a face that bore the story of a lifetime of addiction and a thousand and one hangovers like the famously photographed face of his West Coast contemporary, Chet Baker. “They’re laugh lines,” Baker once quipped to fellow trumpeter Jack Sheldon, who features alongside Pepper on Smack Up. “Nothing in life is that funny!” retorted the arch-humourist Sheldon.

While Pepper rightly gets star billing here, seldom commented on is Sheldon’s articulate and perfectly balanced contribution that maintains the music’s momentum when Pepper steps away from the solo microphone.

The continuing longevity of this album – for example, a track from it was played in part on the popular Netflix series Bosch in an early episode of the series (Bosch, and the actor playing him, is a jazz fan who calls his dog Coltrane) – is of course down to Pepper’s much documented playing here.

Recorded when West Coast jazz’s time in the sun was in decline, Pepper’s playing was moving away from the more fluid construction of his solos that marked him out in the context of West Coast jazz to a more epigrammatic approach, as if distilling the essence of what he had to say down to its true essence.

Craft has approached this classic release with the same assiduous attention to detail that has set the standard in vinyl reissues. The sleeve follows the same grade of stout cardboard of the original release, the cover photo captures the same degree of colour saturation of the original release and on the rear cover, the liner notes and photo and associated typography follow the original to a tee. Holding the Craft reissue in one hand and the original release in the other, it is like purchasing the original anew.

The analogue lacquers have been cut from the original master tapes by sound engineer Bernie Grundman, whose reputation in this field precedes him, and is pressed on quality vinyl. Originally, and expertly, recorded by sound engineer Roy DuNann, the source material was of remarkably good quality, so the final result is one of great clarity and balance through the whole dynamic range. Like it or not, tapes inevitably degrade, or oxidise, with age, and, as here, often results in a slightly warmer sound than the original release, as a like for like comparison reveals. This is no bad thing, although is a matter of taste I grant you, but the sheer quality of this music is in no way impeded.