Lynn Taitt just passed away. And it’s in no small way that I defer to his talents over almost any other jazz inflected guitarist that work from the JA music scene. That being said, Ernest Ranglin is probably the most celebrated guitarist to come out of the ska era that began in the ‘50s.

Of course Monty Alexander’s still kicking around, but it would appear that Ranglin has had a career that spanned just as long and perhaps even included a few more recording highlights. That’s not to slag anyone off, of course, but Wranglin had a hand in so many different things all at once that his career was and remains a splendid thing.

Prior to becoming one of the better recognized figures in international jazz things, Ranglin picked up music from watching his uncles play either the guitar or the ukulele. Both elder gentlemen apparently had a few decent studio gigs. And one day, when an uncle didn’t show up, Ranglin took his place and was thusly rewarded with a proper instrument in lieu of the hapdash one that the youngster had built.

That’s all just folklore at this point, but it’s a good story.

Regardless of that tale, Ranglin would go one to impress not just Chris Blackwell, founder of Island Records, but also the folks behind Studio One. The guitarist would release one of the first singles on the prior label and be included on some early ska sides along the Skatalites with the latter. During this entire time, though, Ranglin was working out some jazz chops. And in 1964, he was able to get a set down entitled Wranglin’.

Along with Alan Ganley on drums and Malcom Cecil on bass, the guitarist went in on six cuts – most of which were covers of standards and the like. But even in those cover versions was a sense of place. Ranglin included “Linstead Market,” which was an island folk song and perhaps most associated (in Jamaica at least) with the Jolly Boys, a group of acoustic players who didn’t really release too much vinyl, but worked to distill JA’s old tyme musical tradition.

Recorded live, Wranglin’ features some of the most polite hand clapping most have ever been privy to hearing. It’s not that the music wasn’t enticing and well executed – so, there’s a possible explanation to such a staid response after work like “Tonight,” which finds the guitarist chording his way through a familiar track just prior showers of single notes confounding casual listeners.

The Rolling Stones’ live album from ’66, released two years after Ranglin’s effort here – and both issued on British labels – sought to engorge fawning that surrounding the band by inserting crowd responses from other events between songs. The same may have happened on Ranglin’s album – but since there’s not too much info about a disc issued by a foundling label, featuring a young, unknown guitarist, listeners probably won’t ever know. And Chris Blackwell probably doesn’t remember. Either way, the tunes are good, if not perpetually laid back. Cop it well…