By Michael J. West | Published April 2026
Bria Skonberg is often asked whether she’s a trumpeter or vocalist first — a question that becomes irrelevant when you see how much fun she has doing both on stage. On Brass, she’s firmly a trumpeter first. Indeed, there’s only one vocal on the whole album, on the closing medley “Comin’ Home Baby/You’d Be So Nice To Come Home To.” (She plays the former and sings the latter.) The rest lives up to the album’s plainspoken title, with Skonberg demonstrating her considerable accomplishment on the horn.She’s certainly developed a unique voice, one that combines the dry-champagne tone of Miles Davis (though with a smidge more vibrato) with a healthy cache of brio and technique. The technique is most evident when she uses mutes, as in her boisterous plunger growl on Jelly Roll Morton’s “New Orleans Bump” and remarkably high-spirited Harmon on “Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea” (where she slips in some deliciously upturned trills that feel like a calling card). The brio is apparent everywhere — from the jump-blues trumpet battle (with guest Kellin Hanas) on “Brotherhood Of Man” to the ballad “Somewhere Out There” (from the 1986 animated film An American Tail). Skonberg does not improvise here, handling the written melody and leaving pianist Luther Allison to solo, but she doesn’t need to. Her sweet delivery and subtle blues colors make her statement.
Hot jazz — trad and swing — remain Skonberg’s stock-in-trade; “Somewhere Out There” could easily be transposed to a trumpet feature in a big band set. But there’s some modernism here as well: The leader’s own “Of Liberty” is the prime example, resting on sophisticated harmonies and rhythmic details that give Allison, bassist Eric Wheeler and drummer Darrian Douglas a great showcase. There are also shades of Sonny Rollins (including a paraphrase from “St. Thomas”) in the calypso opener “Markham Sunrise.” It’s a hell of a lot of ground to cover, and Skonberg gets it all in without even seeming to break a sweat. DB
