It seems as though British jazz from the late 60s and early 70s is back in favor; or at least the reissue labels appear to have a renewed interest in this rich and overlooked era. At the time, major labels such as Deram, Argo, CBS, Polydor, and Decca were taking chances on recording more adventurous music. Fueled by the sprit of Trane and the paths laid down by Miles Davis and others’ experiments with electricity, names such as Michael Garrick, Henry Lowther, Michael Westbrook, John Surman, and Ian Carr created seminal recordings for the time. Though most of this material has been out of print for many years and has been fetching obnoxious sums on eBay, labels such as BGO and Vocalion or “rescue missions” by the likes of Cuneiform thankfully have brought back this marvelous music.

One of the most exciting recent discoveries is this October 7, 1969 date by John Surman. Meant to be a parting jam session before Surman left Britain to join bassist Barre Phillips and drummer Stu Martin in Belgium, Surman and his cohorts sound both relaxed and inspired on these six tracks. Surman’s colleagues, pianist John Taylor, bassist Brian Odgers, and drummer John Marshall—and later, the oft-overlooked alto saxophonist Mike Osborne—are in fine form on this mostly modal, electrified jazz journey.

The record is essentially broken into two sections, with the first comprised of a four-part suite and the second featuring two cuts from later in the evening with Osborne. On the first part, “Way Back When”, the quartet works its way through four different views of rhythmic flow/groove mixed with a familiar theme (later appearing as “Glancing Backwards” on John McLaughlin’s Where Fortune Smiles) that, by the final go-around, is burned into your brain.

The first section is a funky groove propelled by Marshall’s rim shot clicks that reminds of Miles’ In A Silent Way (specifically, the outtakes of “It’s About That Time” from the Complete Sessions box) amidst Taylor’s rainbow Rhodes colors and Surman’s billowing soprano. The second section is sparked by Marshall’s dancing accentuations that follow Odgers 6/8 vamp while Surman soars over the top. Taylor gets the nod on the third section before the terse, final section, led by the now familiar theme. The group earnestly careens here, as Surman pours it on similar to his initial foray.

The final two cuts commence with the breezy “Owlshead”, which stretches out for over 13 minutes. Osborne solos first, with arguably less grit than his later recordings, but in a fluid style that works well as things energize for Surman’s slashing baritone and the rockish groove laid down by the rhythm section. The session concludes with the uptempo “Out And About”, which looks to Surman’s future works. Though the band is on fire, unfortunately, the sound suffers a bit on this last track that was taken from a mono source.

Arguably a relic of its era in terms of the overly modal vamps and sound colors, this is a must if you have any interest in this fertile period of UK jazz and the way that Surman used to play. Indeed, the results here are far and away from Surman’s safe location these days. Bravo, Cuneiform.