Originally conceived by Elvin Jones and bass virtuoso Richard Davis as a trio recording with guitarist Larry Coryell (who was swiftly replaced by Frank Foster and Billy Green when he didn’t show), Heavy Sounds was Jones’ final release for Impulse! before he signed to Blue Note in 1968.

Given the album’s title, those expecting the fire and brimstone of 1965’s Live In Seattle from Jones’ final weeks with Coltrane, may be initially taken aback as Foster’s lengthy opener ‘Raunchy Rita’ slides into a strutting, soulful slice of hard bop. However, the saxophonist’s bold, Coltrane-tailored improvisation and Jones’ persistent polyrhythmic prodding soon elevates the tension with Foster’s upper register acrobatics over a nagging ostinato bass and piano figure, which feels like a forerunner to McCoy Tyner’s glorious ‘Walk Spirit, Talk Spirit’.

Davis’ ever-imaginative bass and Jones’ crisp, animated brush work are as much a feature of Foster’s ‘Shiny Stockings’ as is his finely cut, late-night melody; Green’s ‘ME’ is a short sharp swinger giving space to the lesser known pianist, and ‘Elvin’s Guitar Blues’ is 80 seconds of Jones’ finger picked blues guitar before Foster picks up the chorus for a purposeful solo.

The centrepiece in many ways is the surprising Jones/Davis 11’35” duet on Gershwin’s ‘Summertime’, a spontaneous studio improvisation that unfolds out of Davis’ classical arco introduction. Joined by Jones’ whispering mallets on tom and cymbals, Davis draws deep on his classical and jazz pedigree, orchestrating the theme, contrasting melancholic layers and unexpected twists before his pizzicato solo entrances with dense lyrical clusters, swoops and double time abandon.

Jones switches from subtle circular brush strokes to a thundering Afro-centric mallet solo which subsides under Davis’ quivering tremolo bow coda. A startling illustration of the bassist’s wish that his instrument could be more of an inventive lead rather than its mainly accompanying role.

It is good to have this album back on heavyweight vinyl and in a replica gatefold sleeve; it’s excellently remastered, with superior sound over the long-deleted CD reissue. And the stark, atmospheric cover, depicting Jones and Davis puffing away heavily and wreathed in cigarette smoke, would no doubt carry a government health warning today!