The recent reissue of Blythe's mid-1970s output included the classic Illusions, and this batch of three reminds us that he had by no means run out of creative steam by the end of the decade. Furthermore, there were interesting choices with regard to both personnel and repertoire, and, for the most part, the alto saxophonist found new things to say about ‘traditions’ rather than tradition. While Light Blue, the artful investigation of Monk's legacy, shows how firm a grip Blythe had on the kind of ageless modernism that would greatly inform the coming pride of ‘young lions’, the sparky renditions of anthems such as ‘One Mint Julep’ on Elaborations underlined the saxophonist's deep roots in the wider field of R&B, blues and gospel. Part of the brilliance of Blythe was precisely his ability to tie all of these strands together, often with a marked avant-garde sensibility, without losing any coherence in both his soloing and arranging. Put Sunshine In It would have probably been anathema to critics and previous supporters – this is electric fusion leaning heavily towards the techno extempo that was not dissimilar to much of Jean-Luc Ponty's work in the 1980s. Some of the programmed licks have dated. Some, such as ‘Tumalumah’, are very much of today even though they belong to a faraway yesterday.