The six-volume Exclusively For My Friends set forged new standards of sound recording when it was originally released on vinyl in the late 1960s and 1970s – for clarity, separation and evenness throughout the whole dynamic range, so establishing MPS as a world class audiophile label. The six volumes were re-released on CD in 1992 (513 830-2) as a four CD set that destroyed the integrity of each album by running Volume 1 into Volume 2 and so on, so cramming six albums onto four CDs. It was followed in 1995 by the single CD release of Exclusively For My Friends: The Lost Tapes (529 096-2). This new box set preserves the integrity of each album, so we get each of the six albums in their original running order in facsimile gatefold album sleeves. It also includes the Lost Tapes album, to which is added a second volume – all this material previously unissued. Considerable care has gone into the remastering process using an analogue/digital converter from a renowned high-end manufacturer for the digitalisation process. During this process ‘an unobtrusive tonal revitalisation was achieved’ and the result to these ears on a like-for-like comparison between the original vinyl and the newly remastered CDs is breathtaking. For a vinyl freak to confess the CD versions here actually sound better than the vinyl has meant a considerable rowing back of established nostrums and prejudices. Peterson never played better – something he would acknowledge in later years – than he did in the relaxed surroundings of Hans Brunner-Schwer's villa in the Black Forrest, playing a concert grand Bösendorfer in his host's living room before a few invited guests. It seemed to bring the very best out of him, responding to the warmth and informality of the situation with some truly inspired playing. For all his huge output on Verve, there is nothing that compares to the Exclusively For My Friends set. Whether in solo, as on Volume IV My Favourite Instrument, or his remarkable tour-de-force on ‘Sandy's Blues,’ which in effect becomes a dazzling fantasia on the 12 bar blues from Volume 3 The Way I Really Play, through to his thoughtful, a probing ‘On Green Dolphin Street’ from Volume 5 Mellow Mood, a reading of ‘Summertime’ from the same set that vibrates Gershwin's well worn composition with new meanings, to his version of ‘Emily,’ from Volume VI Travelin’ On, which for a pianist who was criticised for bravura excess, is remarkable for his focus in sustaining a precise mood of melancholy and reflection throughout. It is interesting to reflect that during his lifetime the critics were very iffy about Peterson, mainly because he was so popular – he could sell out concert halls around the world almost as soon as the concert was announced – but jazz purists demand a respectable degree of penury ‘to be authentic,’ and naturally the music was a secondary consideration. Their accusations of him being an Art Tatum copyist were equally ludicrous; Peterson was always his own man and we can see from this set how his critics just weren't listening. However, when an icon dies, so does a part of their history and as the controversy about his playing settles we can now see clearly that Peterson was one of just a handful of artists that represented the highest expression of blues and swing in jazz. Someone once wrote that Peterson, when the mood took him, could make the grand piano roar like a big band and he does exactly that on ‘Sax No End’ from Volume 6 Travelin’ On – in fact he does more than that, he acknowledges the sax soli written by Francy Boland (of his own composition) for the Kenny Clarke/Francy Boland Big Band in a block chorded interlude that alone is worth the price of the set – it's a remarkable tour-de-force and a reminder to his critics that Tatum never swung like this.