Steve Lehman: The People I Love
Pi Recordings

With daring releases such as Mise en Abîme and Selebeyone to his name, Steve Lehman is rightfully regarded one of the more forward-thinking figures in contemporary jazz. Given that, it might seem as if his decision to make his next release a take on the classic alto saxophone quartet tradition to be a conservative move. Don't be fooled: this all-acoustic set is as uncompromising and in its own way as innovative as anything he's done. With pianist Craig Taborn joining Lehman and his regular trio partners, acoustic bassist Matt Brewer and drummer Damion Reid, The People I Love shows it's not instrumentation that makes music modern, it's sensibility. This outfit sounds nothing like a quartet from times past but one designed clearly for right now.

Lehman's playing on the recording not only reveals the workings of a high intellect but passion, volubility, and looseness, too. Throughout the release, his searing, razor-sharp attack exhibits a visceral ferocity, the New Yorker seemingly intent on coming at the material from multiple angles and testing out any number of possibilities. Reid and Brewer have been with him for ten years, and it shows: throughout the recording, they exhibit a deep connection to the leader that makes for exciting listening. Taborn shows himself to be no mere add-on but instead integral to the unit's sound; further to that, he shares with Lehman a natural propensity for pushing beyond boundaries into less familiar zones.

In revisiting his jazz roots, Lehman includes new takes on originals (previously performed by other configurations, including his octet) but also material by others, among them Kurt Rosenwinkel (“A Shifting Design”), Kenny Kirkland (“Chance”), Jeff “Tain” Watts (“The Impaler”), and even Autechre (“qPlay”). The selection of these tunes rather than warhorses like “All the Things You Are” and “Time After Time” could be interpreted as Lehman's desire to update the standards repertoire. The album's scope is broad, its performances multi-dimensional.

Lending structure to the release are three short improvs between the saxophonist and Taborn, an opener, closer, and central interlude. These explorative duets show the leader managing the difficult challenge of retaining a connection to jazz history without being hampered by it. It's the full band performances that most impress, however. After Taborn introduces “Ih Calam and Ynnus” with an insistent ostinato, Lehman and company roar into action with a dizzying cavalcade of pointed sax expressions and ever-shifting drum patterns. For much of the six minutes, the pianist's syncopated chords punctuate and lend stability to the tumult. A reworking of “Curse Fraction” from Lehman's 2007 quintet recording On Meaning comes close to aligning itself with the quartet tradition in its opening moments, though even here one senses Lehman's eagerness to open things up. As the piece advances, the calm imposed by Taborn's chords is countered by the leader's light-speed outpourings until the pianist too embarks on an expansive solo. As contrasting as their expressions are, the two complement one another conversationally.

The cover of Autechre's “qPlay” is business as usual for someone who worked Senegalese hip-hip into his 2016 Selebeyone release. With Reid contributing a fractured, neo-beatbox-styled groove to the piece, Lehman balances the drummer's busyness with slowly delivered phrases, he and the pianist content to progress through the performance with thoughtful, deliberate gestures. And lest anyone doubt Lehman's ability to wax romantic when required, there's an affectionate treatment of “Chance” by the late pianist Kenny Kirkland, the heartfelt ballad the closest the album gets to familiar jazz quartet playing.

October 2019