For "audiophiles", jazz is challenging because so much of it was not recorded to "audiophile standards". As a result, many miss out on some of the most exciting music ever laid on record! A few examples...
Charlie Christian recorded live at Minton's in 1941, by Columbia student Jerry Newman on a portable Acetate recorder:
Lester Young recorded broadcast from 1941 (his solo starts at 3:08, but the preceding trumpet and guitar solos are exciting as well):
Also check out the recordings of Bill Savory:
https://jazzlives.wordpress.com/tag/the-savory-collection/ and
https://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/17/arts/music/17jazz.html
Some great moments recorded in studio as well suffer from sub-par quality (in light of today's standards): Illinois Jacquet, 1946
Lester Young and Nat King Cole, recorded in 1942 (during the recording ban) in a music store (
https://www.lamag.com/citythinkblog/remembering-l-a-s-first-great-record-store-wallichs-music-city/)
Here are Loren Schoenberg's liner notes on this recording (from the Mosaic Box Set - Classic 1936-1947 Count Basie And Lester Young Studio Sessions):
"This is one of the most poetic and profound sessions that Young ever made. There is no precedent for it in jazz. In mood, it follows the 1938 Kansas City Six session and similarly points to Miles Davis' 1959
Kind of Blue in its use of space and its Zen-like, meditative mood. Bassist Gene Ramey once remembered a particular stylistic phase of Young's: "[He had] a very spacy sound at the end of 1933… [he would] play a phrase and maybe lay out three beats before he'd come in with another phrase." Nowhere on disc is Young's telepathic communication with his bandmates heard to better advantage.
And it isn't just Young's playing that amazes; Nat Cole unleashes a barrage of singular pianistic devices that call into question the whole notion that "modern" jazz piano began with the appearance of Bud Powell and Thelonious Monk a few years later. There are phrases that expand the barline, harmonies that stretch towards atonality, some of them quartal, and an overarching even rhythmic flow that owes much to Young. Cole's trio had for years been incorporating Young's solos and phrases into their arrangements. The key to Cole's approach here is abstraction, a quality to be found in his two major influences, Earl Hines and Art Tatum. They rearranged music in a similar fashion as Picasso reordered representative painting — any facet of the tune's harmony, rhythm or melody could be suddenly emphasized and elaborated upon, throwing the other two elements into new shapes. Cole does this at the drop of a hat, anticipating the ebb and flow of Young's lines; Young, in turn, responds to Cole's prescience. It fell to Red Callender to play a steady, swinging bass rhythm to ground things, something he knew how to do for Young, having been in the band that Lester co-led with his brother, drummer Lee, throughout their 1941—42 Los Angeles residency. No previous recording of Young gave him the opportunity to stretch out and cast his mesmerizing spell as this one did. Since there was a recording ban in place at the time, producer Norman Granz recorded the session as a personal memento, so deeply did he love these players. He wisely decided to use 12" discs, affording the musicians an extra two minutes to play, and they made the most of every second."