The album starts off ambitiously with the eleven-minute grand statement of this collection, the six-part suite "The Toys Of Men." Each part consists of a new theme that's repeated, each varying in mood and tempo. The first section, for instance, is very staccatoed a la Return To Forever, followed by a section that's more like straight jazz in triple time, then a softer, melodic section, followed by an impressive showcase of Clarke's piccolo bass that's both harmonically pretty and challenging.

"Jerusalem" is an extended, quiet piece composed by the keyboardist Sirota, featuring the leader on acoustic bass guitar gently providing the main melodic line.

Other tracks with his band comprise of "Come On," an update on the funk exercise "Hot Fun" of School Days, the bass-drum synchronized workout of "Bad Asses" and and the cool strut of "Game."

The strongest composition overall is most likely Clarke's dedication of drumming legend Tony Williams, "Châteauvallon 1972," a lumbering but powerful ostinato propelled by Bruner's vociferous skin-beating. This is one song that actually could have been stretched longer.

It used to be that the vocal tracks on Clarke albums were buzzkills. They were usually R&B-lite excursions not anywhere approaching the artistic level of the instrumental tracks. This time around, though, the lone lyric-laced tune, "All Over Again" doesn't let down the record. It is a gentle jazz-pop song, but the difference this time is that it's a better written and that Clarke's acoustic bass guitar is at the melodic center of it. It also didn't hurt that Clarke chose this time to let the talented Esperanza Spalding handle the vocals, instead of Clarke's own unexceptional voice.

If there's any quibble about The Toys Of Men, it's the solo acoustic bass noodlings, self-recorded in his living room. Even though these improvisations go nowhere, a little bit of this would have qualified as a nice diversion to demonstrate Clarke's tremendous ability on a stand-up. But four tracks of this, including one eight minutes long? Only the fifth track of the stand-up bass alone, "Bass Folk Song No. 6," is an actual composition, which provides the focus his playing was lacking on the other four.

It's been firmly established long ago that Stanley Clarke is an innovative and outstanding bass player and another excursion into trite, crossover material isn't going to diminish that. But Clarke is at his best when he leverages his aggressive musicianship with compositions that give all that riffing some form and purpose. And that's the major achievement of The Toys Of Men.