Shabaka (a.k.a. Shabaka Hutchings) continues his exploration of flutes and his atmospheric soul music with the release of Possession. The EP serves as an extension of his February 2024 release Perceive The Beauty, Acknowledge Its Grace, which gave Shabaka the grace to step away from the saxophone and delve into the flute, driving his music into a very new, very soulful direction. “Timepieces,” the opening track, offers a beautifully lush bed of flute and rhythm instruments for rapper Billy Martin to flow over. It’s an incredibly satisfying confessional built by sampling Shabaka’s tune “End Of Innocence” from Perceive The Beauty. That flow continues with the work of rapper E L U C I D on “I’ve Been Listening,” offering a thoughtful, unrushed sermon accompanied by some lovely harp work (Brandee Younger and Charles Overton both participate in this project). The guests keep coming with the third tune, featuring another artist who’s recently begun to focus on the flute. Shabaka and André 3000 swirl in and through each other on “To The Moon,” a great tune to wake up to each morning if you need that celestial vibe to get your day rolling. Esperanza Spalding joins in on “Cycles Of Growth,” with some earthy vocals and a melody that harkens back to Mother Africa. Continuing that theme, Shabaka invites South African pianist Nduduzo Makhathini to join in for the program’s final tune, “Reaching Back Towards Eternity,” a simple, lush lullaby for a broken world. What’s most lovely about this entire work is the idea that the music, even with guests, is not gimmicky. It feels like community. It’s not driven by trading fours, changing time signatures or blowing each other away. You can feel these artists listening to each other and responding in kind. When the pieces end, you want more. Shabaka’s voice is different on the flute. It’s important. And it’s needed right now.

There’s a smile to the music Sullivan Fortner makes. It can be über serious, but inside, it smiles because that’s Sullivan Fortner — a pianist of unabashed charm and incredible technique all wrapped up in a bit of New Orleans showmanship. New Orleans. That’s where Fortner comes from even though he now lives in New York City. And New Orleans remains the center of his musical heart. As a result, it’s not surprising that his latest recording, Southern Nights, brims with the spirit conjured by that title. Written by Allen Toussaint, truly a patron saint of New Orleans musical history, the title track became a hit for pop legend Glen Campbell back in the 1970s, but leading off this album, Fortner’s version is a breezy, lovely lope that conjures the best of that southern city on a spring morning. But don’t let that fool you. What he’s doing with his left and right hands is crazy complex yet incredibly catchy. “Southern Nights” is the opening tune on this terrific nine-song set, which includes tunes from other great composers as well. Cole Porter’s “I Love You” kicks off with an avant garde-ish intro before taking off on a quick-paced thrill ride with Fortner backed beautifully by bassist Peter Washington and drummer Marcus Gilmore. From there, Fortner makes even more interesting song choices. Osvaldo Farres’ “Tres Palabras” sends shivers with an awesome solo by Washington; Donald Brown’s “Waltz For Monk” is quirky cool; Bill Lee’s “Never Again” shows Fortner’s love for getting inside a ballad; Consuela Lee’s “Discovery” packs in the drama and pianistic glitter; Clifford Brown’s “Daahoud” has Gilmore setting the tone with a tasteful, tight drum solo to kick off the piece; and Woody Shaw’s “The Organ Grinder” swings just right. There’s one Fortner original on the set, “9 Bar Tune,” a Monkish tip of the cap that suits the program perfectly. Throughout, it’s amazing to listen to what this trio accomplishes: complex rhythms and chord changes, beautiful melodies and quirky “out” passages, all presented as if gliding on air. The album was recorded right after Fortner, Washington and Gilmore finished a week at the Village Vanguard in New York. So, the music was selected, rehearsed, minted and audience-approved before taking it into the studio. We’re lucky they did. It’s is a wonderful document of one of our true rising stars on the piano and a trio that refines its presentation with each live performance. Hopefully, they’ll tour.

It’s not “katabasis” (the Greek term for passage to the underworld) but “myth” that’s the title’s keyword. On one level, we’re exploring story traditions about an afterlife; on another, we’re meditating on their untruth. Pianist Hayoung Lyou’s trio is playing grim stuff here, and they approach it with grimness, too. Yet there’s also a current of ironic humor woven in. Like a Jean-Luc Godard film, The Myth Of Katabasis is constantly reminding you that the realm it’s evoking is a false one.

That current is not terribly suble. “Windup,” which examines the finality of death, is the album’s most playful tune, packed with gregarious Thelonious Monk-like rhythms and Andrew Hill-ian dissonances. But the intermittent, three-part “Descent” suite (which runs backwards, from parts III to I) isn’t far behind. Its dark solo piano improvisations break suddenly into lighthearted ballet rhythms, positioned somewhere between grace and delirium. On the other hand, “Ascension,” the idea of return from the land of the dead, might be the least fun, with rhythms and harmonic flourishes that elsewhere seemed fanciful now suggesting resignation, even psychic scarring. The jumpy, dissonant clusters in Lyou’s improv line become barbs.

Other instances, though, are, if not subtle, then at least ambiguous. “Negotiation” begins with a feeling of folly in bassist Thomas Morgan’s pizzicato doubling of Lyou on the melody’s triplet rhythms; it gains gravitas when drummer Steven Crammer joins in and Morgan switches to bow, despite the written part itself not changing at all. It’s when they fall away and Lyou goes into a refined, classically informed solo that these streams cross: What, the pianist wonders aloud, does it all mean? Anything at all? Both fatalistic and nihilistic, The Myth Of Katabasis doesn’t use its gallows humor to mock the idea of a broader, extra-mortal existence — just to interrogate it.

Ryan Keberle comes in as an artist who consistently delivers the unexpected. As a trombonist, he’s first-call in New York, performing with almost every big band worth its salt in the city and bringing in stingingly thoughtful solo work to help these bands shine. As a bandleader and composer, he’s not going to give the listener exactly what they expect, but something more. Take, for instance, the latest recording with his band Catharsis, Music Is Connection. With the help of guitarist and vocalist Camila Meza, bassist Jorge Roeder and drummer Eric Doob, the band surfs through a set of music that changes on a dime — from track to track, and often within the song itself. The album kicks off with “Throwback Moves,” a sweet and lovely groove with Meza offering beautiful wordless vocals until she drops a crispy, fusion-esque guitar solo. Doob matches her with his own fire. And all the while, Keberle is happy to guide the band through the changes solely on keyboard. That sweet groove continues into “Sound Energy,” with more wordless vocals by Meza and Keberle. The vibe is nice and lovely through that number and “Lo Unico Que Tengo,” which gives us the first taste of Keberle the improviser on trombone. The interplay between his horn and Meza’s guitar is sensational. And then, the mood changes. In fact, it does a hairpin turn. Doob hijacks “Hammersparks” with rapid-fire beats, and our nice little record suddenly turns punk. Roeder, one of the best bass practitioners on the scene today, is featured here and on the next tune, “Key Adjustment.” The mood settles into songs with thoughtful grooves, played beautifully. Multi-reedist Scott Robinson guests on “Arbor Vitae,” and absolutely slays the tune. One of my favorite tracks on the album is the shimmering “Shine.” It’s a short interlude of a piece, the kind of song that you’d like to wake up to: It’s bright and welcoming, with Keberle playing piano and trombone in his right-to-the-point storytelling style. The album ends with another sunny favorite, “Shine,” which starts quietly and works its way into a bit of an anthemic jam that serves as a killer vehicle to showcase all Catharsis has to offer. It’s the end of a well-paced, completely satisfying and exquisitely performed program.

Saxophonist Isaiah Collier and his quartet The Chosen Few with Julian Davis Reid, bassist Jeremiah Hunt and drummer Michael Shekwoaga Ode mark the end of their auspicious eight-year run with this new release reflecting on the tumultuous period from before the onset of the COVID pandemic to the present day. Like the group’s previous albums Parallel Universe (2018), Cosmic Transitions (2021) and The Almighty (2024), The World Is On Fire is ultimately more than just a collection of impelling original compositions; it’s a heartfelt requiem for lives lost and gross injustices gone unrectified, complete with audio of real-life news clips that starkly express the social and economic turmoil that continues to rack the world as the first quarter of the 21st century draws to a close. As Collier plainly puts it, “This project is a sonic exploration, blending sounds, consciousness and activism to raise awareness about the pressing issues of our time.” Collier’s tenor vibrates with boisterousness and burns with urgency over Reid’s focused keyboard strides on opening track “The Time is Now.” The vibe changes to a lament on the following track, “Trials And Tribulations,” with Reid’s anguished piano bolstering Collier’s sorrow-laden alto melody. Guest artist Kenthaney Redmond takes the helm on flute for “Amerikkka The Ugly,” playing reflective, arpeggiated lines that critique the gaping disparities between an idealized vision of America and the harsh reality of its (often-overlooked) cold and cruel history. Collier turns to soprano on the boiling-over “Ahmaud Arbery” and the appropriately cyclical jazz waltz “The Hate You Give Is The Love You Lose,” which finds all four band members transitioning between a rowdy “A” section and a more pensive “B” section. “Crash” begins with flowing drum rolls, bowed bass and rumbling piano that set Collier’s tenor on a collision course with convention as he bursts further into the “free” zone. Other highlights include “Metamorphosis,” inspired by Wayne Shorter’s famously telegraphic late-career quartet; title track “The World’s On Fire,” which Collier composed during his fellowship at the Brubeck Institute, a time when wildfires in the Amazon and protests following George Floyd’s death dominated news headlines; and closing track “We Don’t Even Know Where We’re Heading,” with lyrics by Kennedy Banks (Battle), which sings the collective uncertainty of the future and features an augmented ensemble consisting of Redmond and Meagan NcNeal on flutes, Corey Wilkes on trumpet, Ed Wilkerson Jr. on alto clarinet, Olula Negre on cello, and vocalists Manasseh Croft, Kiela Adira and Jessica Walton joining Collier — imbuing The Chosen Few’s final chapter with a glimmer of hope amid the chaos of life in 2024.