One of the great sleeves in jazz features kids seemingly untouched by the self-destructive nature of the adult world, and in the title track as well as the general ambience of the other pieces there is something of that innocence enhanced by unbridled joy. Intended as a celebration of the scene that grew around Ornette’s loft in Prince Street, New York, the session does indeed feel like a back-o-yard jam where locals blow for nothing more than the pleasure of playing. Having said that, the ensemble is also one of the most underrated of Ornette’s quartets and the piping harmonies created by the leader’s alto and Dewey Redman’s tenor are gorgeous, buoyed as they are by Blackwell’s clattering, funky drumming. I’ve always wanted to know exactly who were the friends and neighbours who supplied the happy-sunny-cheery vocals on the title track, so it’s a shame they are not credited. Pictures of Gil Evans, Pharoah Sanders and Leon Thomas on the sleeve may be a clue.