The box title should be sufficient recommendation to anyone who doesn't possess this music already. This was the period when Armstrong was laying the groundwork for all that followed (as Miles said: “You know you can't play anything on a horn that Louis hasn't played – I mean, even modern”) and entertaining the people at the same time. In fact, the latter was what he saw as his job, with the technical brilliance and the vocal innovations just icing on the cake, for himself and fellow musicians. As a result, the repertoire gives you everything from fairly silly songs (some of them racially demeaning) to profoundly moving stuff like King Oliver's ‘West End Blues’. If you want to listen with an analytic ear, you can savour Louis's melodic instinct, his rhythmic acuity, and the ability to hear passing chords unsounded by his bands. And you can hear the early ebullience tempered by a growing sense of drama – compare the audacious ‘Potato Head’ breaks with the single held-note on ‘I Gotta Right To Sing The Blues’, one of the many songs he turned into standards.

This is the first time the 1932-33 Victors (which used to “belong” to BMG) have been joined to the 1925-32 OKeh/Columbia tracks that include the famous Hot 5s and Hot 7s. Remastering of the latter seems largely unchanged since the Columbia Legacy CDs of the late 1980s which, in the case of discs five and six, uncovered six previously unissued alternate takes – a rarity, since early jazz was recorded quick and cheap. That's why there are lapses in the playing of band-members and, excitingly, Armstrong himself sometimes goes for things he doesn't quite make. In compensation, there are occasional sidemen who've already got the message, not least Lawrence Brown, the lesser-known Keg Johnson and of course the great Earl Hines. Production-wise, no detailed notes, only a general essay by Ricky Ricciardi but, on the plus side, there are beautifully reproduced photos of most of the bands involved.