The seemingly endless career of blues singer and guitarist B.B. King is documented in great detail, a discography rich enough in both bulls-eyes and misfires to keep the proprietor of any shooting range content for an equal length of time, whatever that turns out to be. 　　Some of these records stand out in terms of industry success, this status hopefully grooving in lockstep with artistic achievement. The 1983 Blues 'N' Jazz wound up winning a Grammy for the best blues recording of the year. Without basically disagreeing with that particular status, many music critics nonetheless pointed out that King's recordings from between two and three decades earlier were better. It is both understandable and expected that critics want to establish themselves as hipper than the Grammy awards. While it is a nice change for something old to be considered better than something new, this particular argument leads nowhere--despite being true. Of course, rhythm and blues| and rock and roll records sounded better in the '50s and '60s. A long list of things that were likewise much better back then could be easily drummed up, perhaps with a blues backbeat: blue jeans, American cars, sodas, hot dogs, action films, Hawaiian shirts. It goes on and on. 　　Appreciation of the here and now is, as opposed to nostalgia, something of a life lesson. The subject is discussed between parents and children more frequently then it comes up in music reviews, especially of albums where one of the lyrical directions is to "Sell My Monkey". The here and now of B.B. King at almost any point in his career was that he kept a band together, this ensemble growing in size as the bandleader's fame and fees expanded. 　　Blues 'N' Jazz| is a terrific documentation of King's big band during the '80s, sexed up just perfectly with choice guest stars. Tenor saxophonist Arnett Cobb's presence was duly noted by hipsters one and all in a decade when soulful saxophonists once taken for granted began to be feted, even lauded with documentary films. 　　Shorted on appreciation as always, although some of the Grammy glory must have rubbed off, the journeymen of the King road band enterprise give off a huge part of this project's glow. Damning with faint praise, critics approaching the album from retrospect admit that it is a different stew entirely then later King hits sarcastically dubbed "blues lite." Sure it is, since King's touring ensemble always plays with a lot more heart than that. Like Ray Charles, King did well enough on tour to keep an accompanying ensemble together that was both sizeable and strong. In the rock and roll era the groups of these rhythm and blues crossover stars represented some of the main work available for many fine jazz musicians from the big band era. The presence of these individuals is as reliable a factor in King's music from both the '50s and '80s as the man's ability to bend a string....