Billy Hart doesn’t like the term jazz. Throughout his recently published autobiography, Oceans Of Time, he uses the phrase “America’s classical music.” And, I mean, if anybody’s earned the right to define their music on their own terms, it’s Billy Hart.
Hart will be 85 at the end of this month, and his name appears on literally hundreds of albums, going back to 1961. Among them are some of my favorite records of all time, including Pharoah Sanders’ Karma, Izipho Zam, and Live At The East; Miles Davis’ On The Corner; the three albums by Herbie Hancock’s Mwandishi band (Mwandishi, Crossings, and Sextant), as well as albums by Mwandishi members, like Eddie Henderson’s Realization and Inside Out and Bennie Maupin’s The Jewel In The Lotus. All of those come from the late ’60s and early ’70s and represent a mix of avant-garde jazz, world music and fusion, but Hart has never stopped working, and has always been as comfortable in the mainstream as on the cutting edge. Early in his career he toured with organist Jimmy Smith and guitarist Wes Montgomery. He’s also recorded with saxophonists David Murray, Charles Lloyd, and Joe Lovano; pianists Hank Jones, Kenny Barron and George Cables; and just about anybody else you can think of.
Currently, he’s got two main projects: He’s a member of the Cookers, an all-star septet led by trumpeter David Weiss, and he leads his own quartet with Mark Turner on tenor saxophone, Ethan Iverson on piano, and Ben Street on bass. (He and Street are also the rhythm section for groups led by pianists Kevin Hays and Aaron Parks.)
The Billy Hart Quartet has two albums out this year. The first, Just, was released in February on ECM, their third for that label and the fourth studio album overall by the group. When it came out, I described it as “brilliant, high-level, melodic jazz with a capital J.” (Sorry, Billy.) This month, they’re releasing Multidirectional, a live album on Smoke Sessions. The set list includes one track, “Showdown,” from Just, two from 2014’s One Is The Other (“Amethyst” and “Sonnet For Stevie”), “Song For Balkis” from 2012’s All Our Reasons, and a version of John Coltrane’s “Giant Steps.”
Listen to that version of “Giant Steps”; it’s a fascinating deconstruction of and meditation on the song. It begins with a solo piano introduction by Ethan Iverson, which is some of the weirdest music I’ve ever heard him play. Iverson is a small-c aesthetic conservative who knows quite a bit about the avant-garde but is much more interested in exploring song form and traditional improvisatory language. In Hart’s group, he stretches himself, because Hart demands it of him. And clearly he enjoys it, since the quartet’s been together more than 20 years.
In Oceans Of Time, Hart explains that it wasn’t his band at first. “The Bad Plus was such a hit that Ethan managed to get his own week at the Village Vanguard in a quartet with Mark Turner, Ben Street, and me,” he writes. “Ethan knew Mark and Ben from their work with Kurt Rosenwinkel, who was a leader of contemporary thought for Ethan’s generation. The week at the Vanguard was nice, and I enjoyed everyone’s playing. In fact, I enjoyed it so much, I called them for my next gig two weeks later in February 2004, a little performance in a town I had just moved to, Montclair, New Jersey. Mark, Ethan, and Ben played a bunch of my tunes and the gig went well.
“Ethan met with me soon after and said, ‘Billy, the quartet was good at the Vanguard. But when you were the leader, where we played your tunes and you addressed the audience, it was much better. You are the best musician in the band. If you want this to be your quartet, let’s do it.'”
Later in the same chapter, he discusses what I find so fascinating about the band’s music, which is its blend of freedom and restraint. “At first I was taken aback by the sparse approach employed by everyone in the quartet,” he writes. “Mark’s solos would begin slowly, Ethan would lay out, Ben’s low thumps could make [Jimmy] Garrison sound busy in comparison. I
was used to my peers… where we fervently played thousands and thousands of notes in the post-Coltrane tradition. But since the quartet was so sparse, the texture allowed my drumming to speak clearly. For the first time, I also started setting up many of the pieces with unaccompanied drum solos. Ethan insisted on including many blues pieces, to the point where I’ve been surprised at how much of a blues band the quartet has become. Mark, Ben, and Ethan have all expressed appreciation at how playing in my band gives them a chance to learn about the tradition.”
The title of the album, Multidirectional, comes from another drummer, Rashied Ali, who said John Coltrane used the term to describe his, Ali’s, playing. Hart in turn picked up some of Ali’s ideas and adapted them to his own work, figuring out a way to be free and yet also swing incredibly hard at the same time.
Oceans Of Time is full of fascinating stories and the kind of analysis of music that you can only get from someone who was actually in the band. Hart tells you details about playing with Jimmy Smith, Wes Montgomery, with McCoy Tyner (“by far the loudest acoustic piano player I ever played with”), and with Miles Davis.
“When I first took out my drums for what became On The Corner,” he writes, “I thought I might be the only drummer at the session, but then Jack DeJohnette set up next to me. We started tracking, and I was doing whatever I could to make the two-drum thing work. Miles went into the control booth, and when he came out, he walked over to me and whispered in my ear, ‘It don’t go like that.’
“That’s all he said, and nobody heard it but me. But the fact that Miles actually walked over and singled me out for any kind of conversation drew some attention… A few takes later, he whispers, ‘You know any James Brown beats?’ Yeah, Miles, I do, and you can hear that beat on the track ‘Black Satin.'”
I love On The Corner; it’s one of my favorite albums ever made by anyone. But Hart doesn’t like it at all; he claims in his book that he’s never listened to it front to back. And the impression you get from Oceans Of Time is that he’s got a real problem with music he views as too commercial — or, at any rate, music made for explicitly commercial reasons. At one point, describing his time in Herbie Hancock’s band, he writes,
“I love Miles Davis. I love Herbie Hancock. But I do put them a little at fault. The immense attraction of money isn’t just economic, it’s psychological — even sexual… So many aspects of American life are affected by corporate decisions and the slow march of capitalism. Making money seems like a subliminal motivation for almost everything.”
Billy Hart is one of the last players of his generation. He came up at the same time as fellow drummers Joe Chambers, Billy Cobham, Jack DeJohnette, Al Foster, and Tony Williams, and three of those men are gone now: Williams died in 1997, and DeJohnette and Foster died this year. He’s also as pure a musician as you could imagine, a living repository of drumming history, and reading his book or listening to his recordings is all the proof of his greatness — and the greatness of the music he makes, whatever you choose to call it — that you’ll ever need.
TAKE 10
10
Amirtha Kidambi’s Elder Ones – “Third Space”
Vocalist Amirtha Kidambi has been leading Elder Ones for almost a decade, and the group has featured a different lineup on each of its three studio albums. This live set, recorded in Lithuania, features yet another new incarnation. Soprano saxophonist Matt Nelson, the only constant member other than Kidambi, is here, as are bassist Lester St. Louis (usually a cellist) and drummer Jason Nazary. All of them played on the group’s 2024 album New Monuments, but for the tour they added a second saxophonist, Alfredo Colón. His interactions with Nelson add a lot, sending the music soaring into a spiritual zone reminiscent of John Coltrane’s late masterpiece Meditations, with extra drone and electronic wildness (both horn players are using effects pedals, Nazary doubles on synth, and Kidambi plays synth and harmonium). Kidambi’s vocals are astonishing, combining Carnatic traditions with free jazz wailing in the spirit of Linda Sharrock or Diamanda Galás. (From New Monuments: Live In Vilnius, out now via Fernflower.)
9
Russ Macklem – “I Will Persevere”
Russ Macklem is a Detroit-based trumpeter originally from across the river in Windsor, Ontario. For his second album and studio debut, he’s assembled a band of killer Motor City players, including alto saxophonist Kasan Belgrave (son of trumpeter Marcus Belgrave), pianist Jordan Anderson, bassist Noah Jackson, and drummer Louis Jones III. The music they make is classic hard bop in an early ’60s vein, befitting a dude (Macklem) who looks like a character from a Michael Mann movie. “I Will Persevere” is an absolute burner, fading in with Macklem already in the middle of a solo featuring skyrocketing high notes; then they pause for a second and launch the main melody, immediately resuming their attack. Jones’ drumming is thunderous in the manner of Art Blakey or Ralph Peterson, and he keeps everyone charging forward: Anderson strikes the keys with deadly force, and Belgrave is a bebop blowtorch. Strap in. (From Introducing The Russ Macklem Detroit Quintet, out now via TQM.)
8
Brandon Sanders – “Our Love Is Here To Stay” (Feat. Jazzmeia Horn)
Stacy Dillard frustrates me. He’s one of my favorite saxophonists, a gutsy player with an old-school feel that nevertheless feels modern and current. But he never records as a leader! He hasn’t made an album under his own name since 2011. Fortunately, his name in the credits as a sideman is a mark of quality, as on the third album by drummer Brandon Sanders, which also features vibraphonist Warren Wolf and, on two tracks, vocalist Jazzmeia Horn. Dillard takes the second solo here, following Wolf with a perfect extrapolation of what the vibraphonist was laying down mere moments earlier. His playing starts out reminiscent of Ike Quebec, a swing-era veteran who recorded for Blue Note in the early ’60s, before moving into a grittier space. And toward the end of the track, he’s a charming counterpoint to Horn’s vocal runs, never trying to chase her away from the microphone, just chiming in. (From Lasting Impression, out now via Savant.)
7
Steve Dyer – “Forefathers”
South African saxophonist Steve Dyer (father of keyboardist Bokani Dyer) has been recording for decades, but a recent alliance with Ropeadope has brought him to wider attention, and he’s making the most of the opportunity. Multipolar is a stylistically wide-ranging album featuring different personnel on almost every track. “Forefathers” features two drummers — Sphelelo Mazibuko, who plays on most of the album, plus Simphiwe Tshabalala — with Teboho Kobedi on piano and Thembinkosi Mavimbela on bass. The pianist plays a hypnotic, repetitive line that erupts into a complex, almost prog-rock solo, as Dyer takes an extended, meditative solo and the bassist and drummers create a steady, pounding groove. Occasional guitar and keyboard overdubs (also from Dyer) add to the interlocking rhythm. It’s a long track, almost ten minutes, and eventually your sense of time starts to drift; it could have just gotten started, or it could have been going all day. (From Multipolar, out now via Ropeadope.)
6
Kirk Knuffke – “For Your Needing”
Cornet player Kirk Knuffke has a strong, full sound that really brings the subtle differences between his horn and the trumpet to the fore. At times, he seems to murmur in your ear, or half-swallow the notes he’s playing. This trio disc features bassist Stomu Takeishi, who often favors a bass guitar rather than an upright, and drummer Bill Goodwin, and while the music is somewhat minimal, it’s also extremely expressive, traveling through a wide variety of moods and modes. “For Your Needing” is the longest track on the album; it starts off with a brief melodic statement from Knuffke, before the bass and drums come in. Takeishi is playing single notes and small figures that sound almost like a tuba, and the way Goodwin accents the beat with bells and cymbals gives the whole thing an almost New Orleans feel that’ll have you stomping your foot by the end. (From Window, out now via Royal Potato Family.)
5
Amir ElSaffar – “Autumn Comes”
Trumpeter Amir ElSaffar’s music is subtly radical. His compositions blend jazz with ideas from maqam (the system of melodic modes and improvisational rules unique to Arabic music). On this album, he and his existing trio with saxophonist Ole Mathisen and drummer Tomas Fujiwara are joined by Tania Giannouli, who’s playing a microtonal piano. Note the absence of a bassist; that’s important. The piano’s pitches sound just slightly off to a Western-trained ear, giving the music an unsettling quality; meanwhile, ElSaffar’s trumpet and Mathisen’s saxophone harmonize in a traditionally “jazzy” way before heading off on separate but parallel paths in a way that reminds me of Albert and Donald Ayler, while Fujiwara is given tremendous freedom to be a percussionist, not just a timekeeper. Most of this album was recorded live, though there are some studio versions of a few pieces included as bonus tracks. Listen carefully; this is captivating stuff. (From New Quartet Live At Pierre Boulez Saal, out now via Maqam.)
4
Theo Croker & Sullivan Fortner – “A Prayer For Peace”
Back in 2023, trumpeter Theo Croker and pianist Sullivan Fortner recorded an album’s worth of modern jazz standards and pop tunes, but when they listened back, it sounded stale and pointless to them. So they came back to the studio the next day, and recorded this album, a collection of one-take improvisations, except for the track streaming here, which is a Croker composition. It’s a gently unfolding piece that serves as a perfect introduction and welcome to a really intimate, enjoyable album. Don’t take the idea that the music is fully improvised as a warning; this isn’t free jazz. They used simple ideas like “you play slow, I’ll play fast” or “here are four notes we’re NOT going to play” and used them to create brief but enjoyable sketches in which both of their personalities come through strongly. It’s captivating from beginning to end, and just as importantly, rewards repeated listening. (From Play, out now via ACT Music.)
3
Muriel Grossmann – “Already Here”
I can’t remember how I discovered the music of spiritual soul jazz saxophonist Muriel Grossmann, but she makes an album a year, more or less, and I’ve bought about a dozen of them. Breakthrough is her 17th release, and her second of 2025. She put out a live album back in March, but this is a set of four new studio recordings. She’s working with her longtime band — guitarist Radomir Milojkovic, organist Abel Boquera, and drummer Uros Stamenkovic — and the compositions are built around keening melodies laid over simple, spacy vamps, but what I like about Grossmann’s work is that she overdubs a lot of additional instruments (harmonium, tambura, piano, bells, percussion and Celtic harp in addition to an array of saxophones and flutes) to give it a real lushness, reminiscent of albums like Larry Young’s Lawrence Of Newark. This is music you can swim around in blissfully for hours. (From Breakthrough, out now via RR Gems.)
2
Chad Taylor Quintet – “Avian Shadow”
Drummer Chad Taylor made his name on the Chicago scene, working with cornet player Rob Mazurek as part of the various Chicago Underground groups, as well as with saxophonist Fred Anderson and others; he was also the drummer in Jaimie Branch’s Fly Or Die band. But these days he’s based in Pennsylvania, and his new quintet, which makes its debut on this album, is composed entirely of players from that city: trumpeter Jonathan Finlayson, tenor saxophonist Bryan Rogers, vibraphonist Victor Vieira-Branco, and bassist Matt Engle. All but Finlayson contribute compositions to the album; Engle wrote “Avian Shadow.” It starts with Taylor alone, and immediately reminds you of what an inhumanly precise drummer he can be; the groove ticks like an engine. The horns play a complex unison melody, with Engle and Vieira-Branco following along, offering subtle commentary here and there. This is a nice group; I hope to hear more from them. (From Smoke Shifter, out now via Otherly Love.)
1
Aaron Parks – “Parks Lope”
I’ve been following Aaron Parks’ career for almost 20 years. I first interviewed him in 2008, when he was newly signed to Blue Note and releasing his label debut, Invisible Cinema. I guess it didn’t sell as well as they’d hoped, because they dropped him. He’d already been working for several years as a sideman, and he went back to that for a while before returning as a leader in 2013 with a solo album, Arborescence, on ECM. In 2017, he made a trio album for that label, Find The Way, with Ben Street and Billy Hart as his rhythm section.
“Aaron Parks [has] certainly had a lot of European classical training,” Hart told me by phone, “and I love the lyricism of his of his compositions, which in his own way is similar to Ethan [Iverson’s]… romanticism is one of the words I would use, because I like it so much, but it’s another word — rhapsody. I like the word rhapsody.”
The following year, he formed a somewhat rock-oriented band, Little Big, featuring electric guitar and electric bass. He recorded three albums with them, the last of which came out on… Blue Note. He’s come full circle.
By All Means is his third Blue Note release, and it reunites the group with Street and Hart, but adds an element: saxophonist Ben Solomon. You could say — I would — that the saxophone/piano/bass/drums quartet is the paradigmatic jazz group, even more so than the piano trio. And this is the first time Aaron Parks has recorded with that instrumentation as a leader (he was previously a member of the group James Farm, with Joshua Redman), but he seems perfectly suited to it.
“Parks Lope,” a play on the Brooklyn neighborhood he used to live in before moving to Portugal, is a melodic hard bop tune. It has the romantic quality Billy Hart called out, as well as a classic Blue Note feel — it reminds me of Cool Struttin’, the 1958 album by pianist Sonny Clark. The rhythm section bounces along unruffled as Solomon takes an extended solo that also has an old-school feel. When I listen with my eyes closed, I imagine a Brooklyn park on a brisk fall day, autumn leaves blowing across the paving stones. (From By All Means, out now via Blue Note.)
OUTWARD BOUND
Ricky Jay And His 52 Assistants is the greatest magic special ever made. It aired on HBO in the mid ’90s, and has never been released on video. Someone got hold of an internal production tape and painstakingly restored it in 4K, and now it’s on YouTube. (I got to see a revival of this show some years later; it was even more amazing in person.) Enjoy!
