Fairweather and the late tenorist Moss knew each other well, having shared bandstands in London and in Australia, later Moss's adopted home. Here they combine with pianist Stan Barker's trio, this allowing the brassman to renew another old association. On this occasion, the quintet recorded the first seven tracks in the studio, the remaining three coming from a live concert later the same day. Pianist Brian Lemon once described Moss as one of the ‘great ones’ and it's true that he was a towering figure in British jazz of the day. He had all the emotional power of a Coleman Hawkins, his tonal majesty and burly sound a standout in any situation, this immediately evident on the opening ‘Sunday’, Fairweather zippy in his customary Hackett-to-Welsh manner, Barker chording strongly. ‘Blue Room’ is livelier, Moss imperious and technically quick, the atmosphere hot, the arrangement minimal but effective, a case of common ground examined, similarly so on ‘Just You, Just Me’, Digby unfurling another of his brightly attractive solos. Barker was evidently something of a jazz piano eclectic, his enthusiasm for Errol Garner knowing few bounds, as he shows on ‘It Might As Well Be Spring’ his concert feature (not listed on the album), whereas Moss remained true to his original stylistic template throughout his career, always handling these kinds of mainstream, standards-based jazz encounters with enthusiasm and improvisatory vigour. So too Fairweather, for that matter, his scurrying run on the timeless ‘Fine and Dandy’ and the following a capella jam between the two frontliners just about as satisfying as it gets. A pleasing reminder of Moss's quality and a fine memorial to a jazz friendship.