Ever wondered what happened to Stanley Jordan? He was the self-taught boy wonder whose amazing two-hand-tapping system for guitar was far too difficult ever to become commonplace. Apart from Charlie Hunter, one of his guests on this aimiable album, he still has this virtuoso technique all to himself. Jordan was also an overnight star in the finest showbiz tradition, an unknown blue-jeaned kid plucked from a busking pitch outside Carnegie Hall – during an Oscar Peterson concert, if memory serves – to be thrust on to the main stage and into the global jazz spotlight.

Last time I saw him, at Ronnie Scott’s many years ago, Stanley was playing two guitars simultaneously, one hanging from a neckstrap, the other clamped to a chest-high stand, with a few touches of hot piano thrown in. The loyal Kenwood Dennard was on drums that night, and he still is – although for financial reasons the rest of the star-studded cast at this get-together – just check the names above are unlikely to share a bandstand any time soon. The suits at Mack Avenue must have made a lot of phone calls and most of them were answered.

The session opens with ‘Capital J’, a brisk original which sounds as if it is based on ‘What is This Thing Called Love’, and the first two scorching solos, by Kenny Garrett on soprano sax and Nicholas Payton on trumpet, are worth the price of the album alone. Further exploration reveals a well-mixed bag, ranging from the intensity of ‘Giant Steps’ (for Jordan and Mike Stern) to a Bartók intermezzo for Regina Carter’s rhapsodic violin. As for the leader, his work may have lost its element of suprise but it still sounds very impressive. His guest-list is testament to the truism that style is temporary but class is permanent.