JC Sanford: New Past
Shifting Paradigm Records

In a refreshing pivot from the standard trio format, trombonist JC Sanford recruited pianist Michael Cain and acoustic bassist Anthony Cox for his latest release and reaps the expected rewards for doing so. Nothing against having a bassist and drummer for backup, but removing the latter from the equation translates into a different kind of musical flow, one less oriented around strict metre. He's chosen well: not only is each a terrific musician, Cain and Cox are well-acquainted, the two having played together many times before. It'd been a while since they'd done so, however, which made Sanford curious to see what might happen when the three convened.

As these things often do, the collaboration came about naturally. Sanford had already reconnected with the Minneapolis bassist when the trombonist moved back to his native Minnesota from Brooklyn, and when Cain accepted a teaching gig in Minneapolis, the stars aligned last June for two days of recording at the city's Wild Sound Recording Studio. A number of bases are touched on the release, with eight pieces—wide-ranging post-bop compositions by the leader (one co-written with his eight-year-old daughter, Mia) and covers of tunes by Wayne Shorter and Thelonious Monk—sprinkled with improv and strong soloing by each participant.

With a drummer absent, Cox and Cain pick up the rhythmic slack, embroidering the tunes with patterns that ensure a swinging pulse is present. The bassist also benefits in being able to be heard with enhanced clarity, which allows his always superb playing to be appreciated all the more. Cain's versatility is well-accounted for; he's the kind of player who, with decades of experience to draw upon, adapts to every situation with authority.

Sanford's no avant-gardist, but he is open to new directions, something shown in the electronics with which he augments his blustery trombone in the opening “Sparrows Are Badasses.” The tune emerges from a thick mass of bird chatter with a driving ostinato by Cox that Cain follows with a chromatic solo before Sanford steps in for an aggressive turn. Titled for his daughter's favourite fruit, “Avocado” begins with Sanford alone until the others enter to flesh out the painterly meditation, with Cain recalling Monk's “Misterioso” in his ascending and descending runs. A family connection of a different kind surfaces in the concluding track “Some Moments are Eternal,” an affecting elegy Sanford wrote in memory of his dog Pepper.

As its title intimates, “Choro de Familiaris” adds Brazilian flavour to the album, but Bach also sneaks his way in, primarily by way of Cain's classical lines. With he and Sanford entwining and extemporizing freely, it falls to Cox to ground the playing, which he does swingingly. On the covers front, Monk's “Evidence” begins almost lugubriously, the tempo at a crawl and the players easing in restrainedly. Delivering it slowly does call forth thoughtful interplay from the trio, however, and here we especially witness how expertly rhythmic drive is maintained when a drummer isn't included to push things along. No surprise, Shorter's “Toy Tune” catches the ear with its distinctive compositional character and the smooth walking groove with which it's delivered; the saxophonist would no doubt be tickled by the trio's affectionate tribute were he still with us.

December 2023