Where do you start? Well, this Universal compilation starts with Louis’ recording debut in the Oliver band, and continues right up to two live tracks from mere months before his death. To a greater extent than any previous compilation, it cuts across divisions in his output that belonged to different labels, and therefore presents a genuine and evenly-spread chronology. It takes a goodly representation of his sideman work in the 1920s as well as the Hot Fives, the 1930s-40s tracks fronting big-bands, the different generations of the All Stars from the late-40s onwards, plus the continuing sessions with just Louis backed by studio groups culminating in the first ‘What A Wonderful World’. Totalling 151 tracks on the first seven discs, this known material is supplemented by three more CDs: one a 1956 All Stars set (allegedly unissued, though the two tracks with Ella and the closing ‘When The Saints’ with JATP soloists were on a 2-LP Jazz At The Hollywood Bowl); one a collection of genuine unissued alternate and incomplete takes, the majority of them from his session with Oscar Peterson; and a 70-minute conversation with Dan Morgenstern, which formed the basis of Down Beat’s ‘A 65th Birthday Interview’ (reprinted in Living With Jazz).

This gathers together in one place an overwhelming cornucopia of the most iconic jazz musician ever and, though far from being a deliberate warts-and-all approach, it does include a few tracks that are less than brilliant and, in the unreleased bits, even a couple of mistakes either of hitting the right notes or learning the lyrics. Especially after the 1920s, the huge majority of the items feature vocals yet, until the last couple of years, they all have trumpet (or cornet) solos that not only thrilled listeners at the time but sound great now. If you think you know, say, ‘Hello, Dolly!’ backwards, hearing the trumpet work within this overall programme and savouring its simplicity and security is still incredibly moving. When you then go back to the masterpieces of the 1920s and 30s, Armstrong’s playing is often stunning in its risk-taking and its success-rate. And as to the influence on trumpeters and practitioners of other instruments, it’s all here if you choose to listen that way.

Released for Louis’ 110th birthday, we get an excellent use of back-catalogue and the sort of contextualised production that the Internet, with its grab-bag of often mis-identified clips, can never match. This advance’s pre-release copy had hardly any of the set’s accessories, which apparently include a 200-page book with memorabilia such as reproductions of sheet-music, photos galore and a replica suitcase belonging the Ambassador himself. If I have to make do with just the music, it’ll be more than good enough.