Recorded in 1981 and produced by , trumpeter and composer 's first recording for is the sound of a musician who has truly lost his way. 's nearly decade-long collaboration with the ended when he left for . It wasn't so much that left " " for and , the latter elements had been part of his sound since 1972 with (some would say the real transition to more based music began before that with in 1965). The period with , though decried by critics everywhere as a sellout, was a fertile one for creatively and married his vision of being a viable and accessible artist, one who sought out the direct experience of as a way of getting his music across. It was also a successful one commercially -- his albums sold to a wider audience and were played on commercial FM radio. But by the time he went , was caught between a rock and a hard place, and this set proves it. With vocals being handled by ' quartet, and the producer himself playing piano, vibes, Rhodes, and writing, along with 's , there was little left for to actually do. ' stamp on this record is thorough. There are some slick but effective here, such as the album's finest moment, written by (with beautiful vibes work by and acoustic piano by , as well as the most prominent work by 's trumpet); the bandleader's sole contribution is here, along with ' own (a slow-ish, sultry burner). The up-tempo tracks fall flat as . There is something canned sounding about most of them, such as which opens with a majestic guitar and piano intro before kicking off the two-note vamp and handclap, which makes the track feel empty and cold. The deep cover of is a bad joke despite some killer clavinet work by , and is more a vamp and a hook than a song. The set ends with another ballad with ' voice out in front of his . The question here is daunting: where's ? His playing is simply an accessory to ' arrangements, and his fills, while present on every cut, never really bite and take hold; they're just there. 's artistic vision was cloudy at best when he was with , and this exercise in blandness is a case in point. ~ Thom Jurek