This is as much an Elvin Jones album as a Delfeayo Marsalis session, which is a testament to the trombonist’s genius as a producer. A great producer knows the potential of the project at hand and allows it to be realized without egos getting in the way. Though Marsalis shares his production credit here with older brother Branford, the basic idea of taking advantage of the dwindling opportunity to record with one of the greatest drummers in jazz history was all his. Marsalis had done an apprenticeship in Jones’ Jazz Machine and returns the favor here, structuring several outstanding small group lineups for the drummer to display his extraordinary dynamic range on alternately explosive and contemplative material. Though this is Jones’ last session with a horn section before his death in 2004, his playing is vital throughout.

One of Marsalis’ objectives was to pair Jones with Branford, whose powerful improvisational explorations on tenor saxophone are reminiscent of John Coltrane’s. Branford shares the front line with Delfeayo on four tracks, highlighted by the title cut, a superb showcase for Jones’ uncanny ability to generate several simultaneous rhythms with precision power, subtlety and extraordinary coordination. Following a cunningly harmonized head, Marsalis’ trombone solo sets the stage for a vertiginous solo from Branford that touches on the full range of the instrument while incorporating Branford’s exquisite sense of structure as he runs chords, then builds to a series of soulful cries and an emotional coda. Mulgrew Miller’s perfectly balanced piano solo provides a bridge to a compact drum solo from Jones that drives the composition home. Eric Revis, who plays bass on four tracks, provides supple, understated support throughout. Delfeayo and Branford also front the group on Duke Ellington’s “Just Squeeze Me” and the wistful ballad “If You Only Knew,” which is built around a yearning trombone solo theme from Delfeayo. The album closes with the atmospheric “Lost in the Crescent,” which opens with a bass solo from Revis and a collective invocation that recalls “A Love Supreme” with Branford’s soprano saxophone adding glib instrumental flourishes to the mix following an opening solo from Delfeayo that is astonishing in its dexterity.

The album’s three other tunes employ Donald Harrison on alto saxophone. Harrison is a giant on alto and he really shines in this context, illuminating the album opening “Brer Rabbit” with a solo of remarkable passion and originality that still manages to evoke Coltrane’s spirit. Marsalis’ compositional brilliance is very much in evidence here as he combines elements of classical music into bassist Robert Hurst III’s song-framing passages and employs slightly altered melodic quotes from jazz standards in his trombone solo. Harrison also solos expressively over Miller’s blocked piano chords on “Lone Warrior” and trades solos with Marsalis and Jones on the piano-less “Weaver of Dreams.”

This joyous session is a truly rewarding listening experience because its participants are all having such a good time simply playing the music. That’s the watermark of a great producer.