There’s no question about Brian Lynch’s mastery of the trumpet and flugelhorn, his skill as a composer and arranger and his fine-tuned taste when crafting music and projects. But the 69-year-old with three Grammy Awards doesn’t get enough credit for knowing how to throw a fascinating musical dinner party. Take, for example, his latest recording, Torch Bearers on his own Hollistic MusicWorks label. “I carry the torch of my heroes,” says Lynch in the press materials with the new recording. And he proves it by inviting in the always-tasteful Charles McPherson to play saxophone and write three tunes for the recording. But Lynch’s heroes aren’t just his elders. He also invites the silky contralto of Samara Joy into the festivities to not only sing on two tunes, but also to write lyrics. McPherson and Joy share songwriting credits on the beautiful, noirish “The Joy Of Love,” a ballad that could comfortably rest in any era of the jazz continuum. Double that statement down with the Lynch/Joy-penned “Pursuit Of A Dream,” another wistful ballad that floats by in the breeze. The Joy-Lynch connection runs deep, as he co-produced her chart-topping, Grammy-winning album Portrait. But the connection between all three artists runs even deeper when the subject of the late pianist Barry Harris comes up. All three artists studied with Harris, who passed in 2021 — McPherson being one of his first students, Lynch in the middle and Joy one of his last. In tribute, Lynch and McPherson tear into an upbeat treatment of Harris’ “Luminescence” backed Rob Schneiderman on piano, Boris Kozlov on bass and Kyle Swan on drums. Throughout the album the star-studded lineup includes pianist Orrin Evans sharing piano duties with Schneiderman along with Luis Perdomo and Ulysses Owens taking the piano and drum chairs respectively on “Pursuit Of A Dream.” It’s great to hear how the other Lynch originals (“Luck Of The Draw” and “Kyle’s Dilemma”) dovetail so smoothly with McPherson’s (“The Juggler” and “7-24”). They close by swinging out to Dizzy Gillespie’s “Blue N’ Boogie,” a fitting dessert at the end of this sonic feast. Somewhere Barry Harris is smiling. He taught them well.

A distinctive instrumentalist and inventive composer whose profile has been on the rise since the 2015 release of his first trio album, Event Horizon, New York-based bassist Mark Wade tries to take inspiration wherever he can find it. In composing the original jazz pieces for his trio’s upcoming release New Stages, he found that inspiration in his experience performing classical masterworks with the Key West Symphony, as well as the orchestras of Lincoln Center and Carnegie Hall and the S.E.M./Janáček Philharmonic in the Czech Republic. Consisting of three dynamic suites, the album draws from a variety of classical sources, spanning the baroque to the contemporary, and incorporates Wade’s own compositional ideas and personal perspectives — resulting in something completely new and utterly satisfying. It’s an expansive exploration of catchy melodies, subtle yet essential countermelodies, Westward-facing harmony, swinging rhythms and advanced improvisational techniques, a truly collaborative effort among Wade and longtime bandmates Scott Neumann (drums) and Tim Harrison (piano) that defies easy classification and delights the ear. While listening for the familiar and not-so-familiar themes that dwell at the core of each of the 15 tracks on New Stages, be sure not to miss out on Wade’s bear-hugging bass tone, Neumann’s nimble cymbal-play and Harrison’s superfluid keyboard mastery. Upcoming performances by the Mark Wade Trio include gigs at London’s Pizza Express Dean Street (March 25); Hidden Rooms in Cambridge, U.K. (March 26); The Cowshed Jazz Club in Hertz, U.K. (March 27); Shanghai Jazz in Madison, New Jersey (April 9); and Culture Club in Long Island, New York (April 17).

Jazz critics are often accused of bias towards novelty: not unfairly. (Try listening to 100 new albums a month and see if you’re not disproportionately thrilled to hear something different.) Sometimes, though, a record penetrates the critic’s defenses just by being gorgeous. Rivermind — the sixth album by Mexican-born, Berlin-based guitarist Hugo Fernandez — is such a record.

With its quartet lineup of guitar, piano (Daniel Stawinski), bass (Giacomo Tagliava) and drums (Matthias Ruppnig), Rivermind isn’t an album of fireworks. This isn’t to say that there’s no audacity at work here. The title track and “Dancing Leafs” play games with form and meter, while “Playing Chase” and “La Sonaja” throw unexpected change-ups. But all of these are handled with light touches and attention to fine detail. That, not the post-bop playfulness, is what gives the record its distinction.

Well, that and the lyrical poise that the soloists, in particular, bring to the party. Tagliava carries an unusual amount of weight here; he takes frequent solos, including the first on opener “Babaob,” a nimble, traipsing passage that for all its softness hews close to the low register. Stawinski’s tender, luminous tones impress throughout the session, though his highlight is on the 7/8 “Big Hope,” wherein he brings a Monkish harmonic perspective and manages to make the odd meter suggest clave (though part of that credit goes to Ruppnig, who never solos but also never fails to invent with his comping patterns). Fernandez, meanwhile, sounds beautiful everywhere. He has a clear, open tone (sometimes with a very thin veneer of distortion), brought to great effect in his poetic structure on “Brightsteps” and long, exploratory line on “La Sonaja.”

And that’s it. No reinvention of the wheel, few and simple tricks: That’s all Fernandez and the quartet need to elevate Rivermind to the superlative.

There’s an elegance to the music of pianist and composer Edward Simon, whose love affair with the music of Latin America comes to him naturally as a native of Venezuela. He demonstrates his affection for the music of his homeland beautifully on Venezuela: Latin American Songbook Vol. 2. With this second volume, Simon takes a more focused approach to presenting the Latin American songbook he so adores. The first installment culled material from the breadth of South America — Astor Piazolla’s Argentina, Antônio Carlos Jobim’s Brazil, for example — with a Cubano bolero here, a bossa nova there and a selection of songs from Puerto Rico, Chile and his own beloved Venezuela. On Vol. 2, Simon’s spotlight shines squarely on his home country.

And what a time it is to release such an album. With the U.S. capturing Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, it’s muy interesante that the opening track, “Presagio,” which translates to omen in English, takes a slightly ominous, yet beautiful, tone. Although it came out well in advance of Maduro’s capture, Simon might have a slight bit of fortune-teller to his credit. From that launch pad, Simon with the help of his incredibly talented trio mates Ruben Rogers on bass and Adam Cruz on drums deliver an exquisite, six-tune set. “Atardecer,” translated to sunset, brings the feel and form of the close of a day. It’s a gorgeous ballad featuring Simon’s always elegant pianism and a to-die-for solo by Rogers. With “Dama Antañona,” Simon and company rework a nostalgic waltz written in the early 1900s by Venezuelan composer Francisco de Paula Aguirre. Clocking in at nearly 18 minutes, this triumphant number may not be the title piece of the album, but it’s certainly the centerpiece. “Anhelante” features another beautiful bass solo by Rogers. The understated touch of drummer Cruz lays perfectly into the arc of the music. The crowd-pleaser “El Vuelo de la Mosca” may be a Brazilian choro, but it becomes the property of this Venezuela-themed set with guest Jackeline Rago jumping in on the cuatro, a four-string folk instrument often associated with Venezuelan music. It’s also the tune on which Simon shines brightest (and that’s saying something). He overflows with rapid-fire fingers all the while maintaining an incredibly smooth flow over the piano keys. Venezuela: Latin American Songbook Vol. 2 ends with “Sabana,” an achingly slow ballad that drives home the emotions of a very troubled land.

“This music is part of who I am,” Simon wrote in his press materials. “With Vol. 2, I wanted to go deeper, to offer an immersive listening experience that honors the original songs while bringing them into the trio’s expressive language.” He succeeds, and then some.

I consider myself lucky to have given this new album by Ben Rosenblum’s Nebula Project the kind of close, critical listen that it deserves. The Longest Way Around is the third release by the world-traveling accordionist/pianist/composer’s ensemble of virtuosic companions who share the leader’s restless curiosity and bring their own far-flung influences and backgrounds into the conversation. Returning from the Nebula Project’s previous recordings (2020’s Kites And Strings and 2023’s A Thousand Pebbles) are trumpeter/flugelhornist Wayne Tucker, saxophonist/reedman Jasper Dutz, guitarist Rafael Rosa, bassist Marty Jaffe and drummer Ben Zweig, who are joined on this melodically fortuitous and rhythmically adventurous new outing by percussionists Gustavo Di Dalva and Brad Dutz. Rosenblum and company venture further afield and in more divergent directions on The Longest Way Around, experimenting with distinct traditions on nearly every piece. Rosenblum casts the album’s 11 original compositions in colorfully arranged, carefully woven tapestries of woodwinds, brass, keyboards and guitar, with the drums and bass playing essential parts in the charts. Propelled by feel-good ostinato grooves, world-funk syncopation and smooth-shifting time signatures — all spiraling around a foundation of straightahead jazz improvisation while delving into a range of distinct non-jazz traditions — the program maintains a heightened feeling of intensity from start to finish. Even during its more reflective, balladic moments, The Longest Way Around (Rosenblum’s fifth overall release as a leader) seems to hurtle through space and time with strong-force cohesion and unbound momentum. While Rosenblum’s piano playing on several tracks is exceptional, and his bandmembers go deep in their numerous solo spotlights, the leader’s mind-blowing and heart-melting accordion chops — along with his uncanny ability to blend his stomach-Steinway with horns and guitar in a hard-bop esthetic — are the main attraction here. Starting with the J-Pop-inspired changes of “Merengue x Fantasy” and continuing through pieces like the Irish-inflected “Sheridan’s Reel,” the introspective three-part suite “Scenes Frozen In Time,” “Círculo” (built upon West African rhythms shared by Zweig after a trip to Cameroon), the steady-sailing tack of the reggae/ska number “Blue Water,” the straightahead-leaning “Albatross” and “Fool’s Gold” (with direct nods to classic hard-bop icons) and closing with the neo-soul vibe of “Last Call,” Rosenblum effortlessly integrates the frequently underestimated instrument into his all-enveloping musical vision.

When he’s not touring with stars like Rickie Lee Jones, Catherine Russell and Indian singer Kiran Ahluwalia, or performing with bassist Curtis Lundy at festivals alongside jazz luminaries Bobby Watson, Sean Jones and Warren Wolf, the tireless Rosenblum is known to spend a lot of time on the road fronting his own ensembles and performing solo. Among numerous gigs scheduled for this year, he’ll bring the Nebula Project to Smalls in New York to play a CD release party on Feb. 26, and the group will make subsequent appearances at Miami’s Pinecrest Gardens on March 14 and Abington Presbyterian Church in Abington, Pennsylvania, on June 7.

Wow. Young jazz musicians who want to traverse the cosmic paths of Pharoah Sanders, Sun Ra, Alice Coltrane, etc., are a dime a dozen. Far rarer are the ones who go about it with the delicate touch that L.A. multi-reedist Aaron Shaw does. All the more remarkably, Shaw is a protégé of Kamasi Washington’s (whose name has never, ever appeared alongside the phrase “delicate touch”). Let there be no doubt, though, that on And So It Is, Shaw stands alone.

In fact, Shaw’s production (with drummer/percussionist Carlos Niño) often emphasizes that aloneness, despite the presence of multiple collaborators. His tenor on the first half of “Heart Of A Phoenix” has so much reverb it’s as if he was recorded at the other end of a warehouse from the mics capturing pianist Sam Reid, harpist Merci B, bassist Lawrence Shaw, cellist Kiernan Wegler, vocalist Dwight Trible and Niño — and indeed Shaw’s own flute. It’s as if he’s already well ahead on the journey (though they all catch up in the back half). “The Path To Clarity,” meanwhile, is dense, but it’s dense with Shaw’s own overdubs of himself on flute; some of these layers are electronica-like drones that evoke Sanders’ final album with Floating Points. “Echoes Of The Heart” replicates this device, but adds in saxophones; Shaw is that much more alone with himself.

The spiritual dimensions of And So It Is, then, are rarely the usual confluence of gospel and raga (though that confluence makes its presence known, especially on the opening “Soul Journey”). “Jubilant Voyage” instead sounds at first more like a field recording of some tribal ritual, at least until it becomes a feast of tape loops and glitches. The soft-spoken tenor/piano duo “Windows To The Soul,” on the other hand, has a hard-bop melody that might have highlighted a ’50s Blue Note album or even found a place on pop radio of the era. Shaw has much to say, and many glorious ways to say it. DB