Albums I Like — Sophisticated Giant by Dexter Gordon

Dexter Gordon had been gone for a long time—14 years in Europe, mostly in Copenhagen and Paris. So when he finally came back to the States in the mid-1970s, it wasn’t just a return—it was a homecoming. Live sets of his triumphant return to the Village Vanguard made that clear. But in 1977, he went into the studio and recorded Sophisticated Giant, and to me, that album sounds like someone who came back with something to say.

It also landed at a time when a record like this felt almost radical. Jazz in the late '70s had mostly drifted into electric fusion. P-basses had replaced uprights, Stratocasters had replaced archtops, Fender Rhodes had replaced baby grands. Albums abounded with synths, funk grooves, and studio polish. Meanwhile, all 6'6" of Dex comes swinging in with an 11-piece acoustic band, songs arranged by Slide Hampton, playing rich, melodic, harmonically dense music that was both classic and fresh. Sophisticated Giant wasn’t looking backward—it was planting a flag. A reminder that jazz didn’t necessarily need to plug in to stay vital.

Now, most folks will point to the earlier Go! or Our Man in Paris as the high-water marks of Gordon’s career. And sure, those are unimpeachable bebop records. But I have a real soft spot for Sophisticated Giant. It’s got depth and texture. It’s lush without being soft. It’s brainy with balls, intellectual without being effete.

Dex's big tenor sound is what you're here for, but you really have to give credit to Slide Hampton's masterful arrangements. The ensemble is tight but loose in that way only great jazz orchestras can be. Hampton doesn’t clutter up the space; he builds something atmospheric and moody that lets Gordon’s tenor sit dead center, breathing in and out like a living thing.

There’s something intellectual about this album. Not in a grad-student-smoking-a-pipe-in-a-tweed-jacket way, but in the space between the sound. It's a thoughtful album. It has ideas. It knows things. It sounds like old friends talking politics, or maybe arguing about Lester Young's influence on John Coltrane over an Old Fashion.

Weird aside: I was playing Cyberpunk 2077 a few years back when I heard “Laura” come drifting through the in-game jazz station, 91.9 Royal Blue Radio. That’s right—David Raskin’s haunting ballad, arranged here with that slow-burn gravitas, Dex’s tone as round and velvet-rich as it gets, floating through a dystopian neon hellscape. I pulled my car over (okay, I stopped in the middle of the street) in the game just to listen.

But for me, the standout track on Sophisticated Giant has always been “Fried Bananas,” a Gordon original. It’s lyrical and sly, with a groove that struts but doesn’t show off. It’s the kind of tune that sticks with you—not just because it’s catchy, but because it’s true.

This might not be the first Dexter Gordon record you would or should reach for if you're building a jazz collection. But if you let it, Sophisticated Giant will stay with you. It’s a record that sounds like its title—mature, assured, worldly, sharp. Sophisticated. It’s a late chapter, but one worth reading twice.