The originals in the set sit alongside these well-chosen covers quite nicely. The title cut is a delightful vamp on which Hornsby casually rides over DeJohnette's creole shuffle without once succumbing to the temptation to hot-dog it. McBride states the theme in the upper register while Bruce covers it down low. "Charlie, Woody And You" combines a solidly blues-based bass line with dissonant piano chords that somehow stays tethered to the simple chord progression.
I wish someone had "blindfold tested" me with this album to make me guess who's record this is, much as McBride and DeJohnette had done to others. But honestly, I don't think that not knowing whose record this is would have affected my enthusiasm over it much, if at all. OK, so Bruce Hornsby won't ever be mentioned alongside his influences in the realm of jazz piano, but he proved here that he's plenty good enough to hang with the big dogs and lay down a set of tracks that maintains some originality while being a whole lot of fun. The tall guy who'd rather gig as a sideman for the Grateful Dead than place hits in the Top Twenty opens his mind again and gives whatever of his original audience is still hanging around more food for open souls.