The Japanese remaster (in mini-LP format) of this album is staggering. One of the best-sounding discs I own.
This is my favorite Rollins studio session. I hear it less as a cutting session than as a meeting of two generations — one, a sort of mentor (Hawkins), the other a sort of student (Rollins). I've always thought that Hawkins' was, in a way and I guess ironically, following Rollins' lead. Newk, to be sure, is letting his "avant garde" inclinations dominate his playing here, and I hear in return Hawkins pushing his own boundaries.
I imagine that Newk was probably just a little nervous for this gig. He's recording with his idol, and likely doesn't want to sound like him. So, what does he do? In my perception, he tries his damnedest to improvise figures that are anything but like Bean. And, for me, this pays off handsomely. There is a creative tension in Newk's playing here that one doesn't always hear — in large part because Newk's mastery is always so total: confidence brims in his lines. On this date, however, I hear something different. His improvisations have an edgy (in a positive way) hesitation: he's forcing himself into territory that he's necessarily never fully explored. And that is precisely why I think his improvising here (in the studio) was never matched in quite the same way. Whereas Saxophone Colossus displays authority and youthful vigor, Sonny Meets Hawk displays a curious, and wonderful, uncertainty that ultimately (in my opinion) translates into some inspired thinking. In my book, this is the most forward-looking Rollins on record, and I wish he would have kept pushing himself in this direction.