Jonathan Finlayson: 3 Times Round
Pi Recordings

If there's a downside to playing with artists such as Steve Coleman and Mary Halvorson, it's that when you release your own recordings as a leader, a certain species of listener invariably will look for signs of their influence. Not that anyone would hold it against trumpeter Jonathan Finlayson if evidence of such were present: with artistic visions as strong as theirs, it would seem almost impossible to not be influenced. In the long run, it's a small cross to bear, as it's clearly an honour for any musician, Finlayson included, to play with such formidable figures, and he's obviously hugely benefited from the experiences he's had working with them.

So if some trace of Coleman's penchant for rhythmic complexity, slippery time signatures, and compositional intricacy is evident in the trumpeter's own releases, no one should hold it against him. 3 Times Round, Finlayson's follow-up to 2016's justly lauded Moving Still and his third album as a leader, is a stellar collection distinguished not only by his own performances but by those accompanying him on the date: Steve Lehman (alto sax), Brian Settles (tenor sax, flute), Matt Mitchell (piano), John Hebert (bass), Craig Weinrib (drums). It's about as strong a sextet as there is going.

Throughout the recording, Finlayson locates that sweet spot where formal writing and improvisation balance fluidly, the distinctions between them constantly dissolving as the players push through the compositions. A given structure might flirt with a classic head-solos-head arc, but the music never feels tired or retrograde when it's so energy-charged. There's no shortage of pleasure derived from the interlocking crosscurrents generated by Lehman and Settles, and the contrast the leader adds to their intertwining saxes makes for engaging listening indeed.

Powered by a dizzying swirl and fast-paced unison playing, “Feints” is a more than apt boxing-related title for this feverish opener, stunningly executed by all concerned. Witness, for example, how effortlessly Mitchell rides the ever-mutating wave produced by Hebert and Weinrib, after which the three front-liners indulge in rapid crossfire. Here and elsewhere, Finlayson's rich, declamatory attack provides an effective counterpoint to Lehman's assured bite and Settles' earthy expressions. Cued to a less frenetic pace, “Grass” proves no less compelling in the polyphonic intricacy it showcases, with Lehman and Settles trading blows and the leader serving up a thoughtful rumination in an extended solo turn. Abandoning strict metre altogether, the rubato-inflected dirge “A Stone, a Pond, a Thought” sees Weinrib punctuating aggressive bowing and chiming embellishments by the bassist and pianist, respectively.

Piano ripples jumpstart the album's most ambitious cut, “The Moon is New,” which wends an episodic path through fourteen adventurous minutes and in its unusual theme suggests a Threadgill quality. Whereas the solo expressions are noticeably succinct in other pieces, here the lengthy timeframe affords opportunities to explore; Lehman's and Settles' turns are spellbinding, set off as they are by the dramatic backdrop and Weinrib's explosive accompaniment. If “The Moon is New” ultimately feels more like parts stitched into a shape-shifting whole, it's no less gripping for being so. The three cuts that follow are understandably dwarfed by its presence, but don't overlook “Refined Strut” when it features what's perhaps the most lyrical, bluesy solo the leader takes on the album and “Rope From the Sky” for pairing a muted Finlayson with Settles on flute.

December 2018