Born equally of gospel, R&B, and early jazz phrasing, Ayler lets loose a torrent of emotion on the tune, making everything -- and everyone on the bandstand -- else seem nonexistent in comparison.

His dramatic swoops and masterly shading recall the sweeping glissandi of Johnny Hodges, while the completeness of his statement gives the lie to the notion that he was going through an 'experimental' period.

"[7] Writing for SoundBlab, Rich Morris called the album "A true lost classic... My Name Is... may not be viewed as Albert Ayler's definitive work... but it is a classic recording made by a true visionary at the top of his game and contains transcendental majesty and searing beauty, in amongst a whole lot of sronking, grooving, astondingly improvised be-bop... Ayler's playing is just beyond anything that could be called mere musicianship.

We must wrestle their piddling false icons from them, make a bonfire of the Gagas, Coldplays and whatever skinny-jeaned bore-fest is on the cover of this week's NME, and play them My Name is Albert Ayler on repeat, until they are also brave enough to put their name to music as wild, free and elemental.

in that, for example, his use of the pick-up musicians limited him to playing mostly standards, and commented that the presence of a pianist "seems to prevent Ayler from breaking free of them to follow his imagination."