Creating headlines like ‘Junkie Jazzman Pardoned by President’, Hampton Hawes’ career was never short of controversy. Indeed, the pianist’s hyper-candid mid-1970s autobiography Raise Up Off Me rivals that of his colleague Art Pepper for tales of the darker side of Los Angeles’ sunny-seeming jazz scene.

The real story, of course, lay in his considerable musical gift, which, by the time this 1958 session was laid down on disc, had reached something close to a state of piano perfection. Combining a steam-hammer percussiveness in his right hand with accompanying harmonies that spoke as much of the blues as they did of bop, Hawes’ style was one of the defining sounds of 1950s jazz (in the sleeve note here, André Previn rightly pulls up those thinking this sort of thing was all Horace Silver’s doing), its genesis thankfully captured on a series of now iconic albums on the Contemporary label.

Most of these had the pianist front and centre sans horns, but For Real! yokes him with stylistic stablemate tenorist Harold Land, a player whose grainy, warm tone and chewy articulation mix particularly well on a programme divided between tricky bop heads and a couple of songful standards.

Make no mistake though; this isn’t a tenor and rhythm section record manqué. Hawes’ hands here guide every move, whether it be the surprising choice of a groovy ‘Wrap Your Troubles In Dreams’ or his own creations like the catchy ‘Hip’.

The action, however, isn’t all out front. The pre-Bill Evans trio LaFaro is simply astonishing, whether soloing or locking in with Butler’s combustible beat (hear the tempo-de-insane ‘I Love You’). In fact, his smack-on ensemble playing might be a revelation for any naysayers who still think of him as merely the instigator of the high-wire bass improvisation. The drummer too, fully justifies his legend as a sort of West Coast Philly Joe Jones.

Once again Craft have created a faithful LP facsimile, full of period detail right down to the memorial addendum to LaFaro, who died just prior to the original album’s release. Tactfully, no mention was made in the jacket notes of Hawes’ incarceration for narcotics offences at the time of issue. His subsequent release in 1963 heralded Act Two of his career. Some of the best scenes of the first act though, are right here.