The eMusic Dozen: 21st Century Bebop

Lynch, a trumpeter who just won a Grammy for a Latin jazz collaboration with his longtime mentor Eddie Palmieri, is fearlessly direct and aggressive. He still bites off nearly more than he can chew here, as the lone horn in a quartet paying homage to nine iconic bebop brass masters for one tune apiece. Bereft of the saxophone’s tonal variation, he relies on brash, inventive phrases and compositions (four covers and five Lynch originals) kindred to the style of trumpeter he’s honoring. Thus “Woody Shaw” is blistering, diamond-hard bop, while “Tom Harrell” features more sprightly and elliptical lines of attack and Thad Jones’s “Ellusive” is a toe-tapping crowd-pleaser. The tour de force is an epic, heaving version of Lee Morgan’s “Search for a New Land”; the clunker is an overly subdued rendition of Freddie Hubbard’s “Eclipse.” Quibblers will note that some legendary bop masters are omitted, but the band, especially pianist Mulgrew Miller, and most of the music is above reproach.

Just 22, New Orleans trumpeter Scott conflates elements of rock and early hip-hop with bop improvisation. At its best, as on the splendid title track, it sounds akin to Gil Evans-era Miles Davis and then his In a Silent Way and Bitches Brew period, mixed with the warm electric keyboards of Joe Zawinul and the stark, fat-toned horn of Wayne Shorter in early Weather Report. It’s easy to understand why “Rewind That,” has been given such uneven reviews: Unlike the woven engagement of most bop ensembles, the mix seems layered and differential, with Scott’s bold, piquant trumpet tones looming over a matte of furry Fender Rhodes and fuzzy guitar lines, with crisp drum and bass riffs practically stenciling in the beats. Although Scott’s compositional skills (he finished Berklee in half the required time) can’t quite bear the burden of nine originals among the eleven tunes (a mundane “So What” is one of the covers), the results are frequently invigorating.

If intelligent, hard-blowing saxophone is your fetish, just about any Alexander disc will thrill you with a tornado’s worth of gusto and hairpin turns of phrase. Summit Meeting is offered up because it’s emblematic, with the stellar presence of young Alexander’s blues-drenched Memphis patron, Harold Mabern on piano, a high-powered guest star (trumpeter Nicholas Payton) who strains not to be eclipsed by the leader, a bevy of sturdy bop vehicles, and a no-nonsense rhythm section. The title track and “Something’s Gotta Give” may be the best examples of how Alexander swings and bops simultaneously with his full-bodied tone, sounding like Michael Brecker, mid-period Coltrane or Sonny Stitt on tenor, with Mabern dropping block chords like so many depth charges along the way. Finally, check the ballad, “I Haven’t Got Anything Better to Do,” especially the moment when Alexander extends a breathy low note while Mabern sprinkles ivory pixie dust.

Let's exempt Palmieri from this Dozen’s ground rules against iconic elder statesmen: more folks need to be aware of the bop-salsa affinity, and this may be the best and most jazz-oriented disc of Palmieri’s 50-year career. Listen to the horn section making heavy froth of Monk’s “In Walked Bud”; Palmieri comps a la Monk and Bud Powell while the bass, drums and congas pile on the polyrhythms. Hear master conguero Giovanni Hildago make like Chano Pozo on the Pozo-Dizzy Gillespie number, “Tin Tin Deo.” Violinist Regina Carter soars like a bird — and Bird — on “In Flight,” and saxophonist Michael Brecker, bassist Christian McBride and Palmieri refract the mood from suave to funky to gymnastic bebop on a glorious cover of Eddie Harris’s title track. Through it all, Palmieri is the linchpin between the horn section and the aforementioned Latin rhythm trio, salting in guest stars (John Scofield, David Sanchez, Nicolas Payton). If you’re not dancing to this, you’re dying.

Rene Marie is the most underrated female singer in jazz or any other idiom. A Virginia-based vocalist who postponed her career to raise a family, Marie, now 51, splits the difference between the innovative, horn-like agility of the late Betty Carter and the breathy caresses of Cassandra Wilson. Live at Jazz Standard (2003) has more goosebump-inducing ballads, and Serene Renegade (2004) demonstrates her personal growth as a songwriter, but Vertigo features an all-star ensemble (Mulgrew Miller/Robert Hurst/’Tain Watts/Chris Potter) propelling her through her most boppish collection. Marie delightfully hopscotches through the title track and “Them There Eyes,” but the most impressive and diverse performances are the oh-so slinky, campy-sexy version of the standard “Surrey with the Fringe on Top,” and a stunning but sobering medley of “Dixie” and “Strange Fruit.”

The brilliant decision to simply wrap big band instrumentation around the longstanding Dave Holland Quintet (the most comfortably intuitive small jazz ensemble of this millennium) gives the bassist-leader both a powerful rhythmic engine and tremendous maneuverability. Indeed, agile solos from Holland and drummer Billy Kilson (who left both of Holland’s groups after this recording) are more plentiful than on the quintet discs, and Holland’s magnificent, four-part, 51-minute “Monterey Suite” that opens Overtime provides a more expansive canvas for the larger band. The cherished hallmarks of the quintet — Steve Nelson’s diaphanous vibes, Chris Potter’s broken-field solos — still obtain, and flow into new territory with the addition of baritone sax and flugelhorn voicings, and greater centrifugal force. In other words, more seems to be better for Holland the composer, a 60-year old Hall of Famer who somehow hasn’t stopped improving.

The sax-trumpet tandems on Still Evolved might be as memorably compelling as the classic horns on the Blue Note records and Miles Davis quintets of the '60s. Credit Nash, who combines vintage songcraft with modernistic wrinkles (he wrote all eight tracks), then delivers wry, angular tenor phrases with a creativity that goads cerebral guest stars like Wynton Marsalis, who has never sounded better in a non-leadership capacity. “The Shooting Star” moves back and forth from alert to startled, “Still Evolved,” is imbued with a raucous blues-swing reminiscent of Charles Mingus, and “Bells of Brescia,” is a perfectly timed, somber change of pace. Trumpeter Marcus Printup is a pretty fair substitute on the three songs Wynton sits out, and the Uptown rhythm section — drummer Matt Wilson, bassist Ben Allison, pianist Frank Kimbrough — is more on-point than pointy-headed keeping an elastic groove.

Ragin’s stylistic breadth is evidenced by the fact that this disc is profoundly influenced by both the swing-bop master elder Clark Terry and the avant-garde satirical jester Lester Bowie. Terry guests on flugelhorn trading phrases with a quartet of trumpets on “Finger Filibuster,” which sounds like Count Basie on acid. Terry also blows his flugel and mugs, mumbles and scats his way through his “Spaceman,” which sounds like Sun Ra in a TV sitcom. There are two Bowie numbers, a not-that-chaotic “Barnyard Scuffel Shuffel,” and an ethereal “How Strange,” though Ragin’s own Art Ensemble of Chicago-ish “Harmonic Architecture” and skewed-but-stately “A Prayer for Lester Bowie” invoke the late trumpeter just as vividly. Backed by a three-piece rhythm section (a pair from James Carter’s breakthrough ensemble), this is like the World Saxophone Quartet in brass — daring and delightfully unpredictable in both its rigorous scholarship and spontaneous combustion.

The spectacular creativity of the horn arrangement on the opener, “Enough Enough,” with its vamps, counterpoints and chromatic effusions, is something Ehrlich’s mentor, the late World Saxophone Quartet founder and composer Julius Hemphill, would be proud to call his own. Ehrlich plumbs the blues like Hemphill, but uses the musical traditions of Europe rather than Africa as a touchstone. “Light in the Morning (Many Thousand Gone),” for example, uses just brass and reeds to sound like a string symphony. This sextet is Ehrlich’s largest ensemble to date, and occasionally sounds much bigger, due to the horn voicings and way the composer uses secret weapon Howard Johnson for tuba basslines and dark splashes of baritone sax in contrast to his own alto and clarinet work. It amounts to galvanizing, impressionistic post-bop that can go from smoky, gutbucket grooves to esoteric idylls, sometimes within the same, suite-like tune.

The trio with the eponymous instrumentation does an impressive job of passing the solo baton and maintaining collective symmetry. It’s no mean feat, given that Ray Anderson is a puissant trombonist who supplements frequently brusque passages with a bawdy, gamboling sense of humor. But after three decades and eight discs together playing for art and fun more than lucre and notoriety, drummer Gerry Hemingway and bassist Mark Helias know how to absorb, refract and accent Anderson in both bold and subtle fashion. Check the stretched-like-taffy, bowed bass notes and cymbal ballet coloring Anderson’s elongated notes at the onset of “Rainbow,” the bass-and-drum beehive that the ‘bone bumps with squawks and yelps on the title cut, and the muscular bop solos battening down “A Cuppa” front, middle and back. When Helias breaks out the electric bass for “1,2,3” it emphasizes how earthy and organic the trio sounds everywhere else — and produces a fiery Hemingway solo in response.

The title refers to Gomez’s desire to bring Picasso’s Cubist approach to music — the players briefly riff on motifs and patterns (Gomez dubs them "unitifs") to bend the angle of the melody or harmony. But you don’t need a Ph.D in music theory to revel in these accessibly multifaceted tunes, which glide from carbonated bop (“NYC Taxi Ride”) to gently swaying, New Orleans-tinted blues (“The Minetta Triangle”) to beguiling neo-bossa nova (“Coqui Serenade”). Pianist Gomez is an alumnus of bands led by clarinetist Don Byron (whose “Molly” is the disc’s lone cover) and tenor saxophonist David Sanchez and they're among the surfeit of stellar sidemen, unfurling a galaxy of memorable highlights. Some, like Gomez’s powerful block chords on “Lady Bug” or Drew Gess’s haunting arco bass on “Empty House,” are immediately arresting; others are atmospheric homages to former Ellington associate Juan Tizol (like Gomez, a Puerto Rican native) and West 54th Street, tone poems that keep resonating.