Saxophonist Jeff Lederer and his marauding posse of aberrant musicians (called the Band Formerly Known as Swing n’ Dix) have decided to storm into this year’s election with “GUILTY”!!!, and, yep, you know who they’re talking about. With smiles on their faces and cutting political satire on their minds, the group slashes through 10 blistering songs that leave no doubt about how Lederer feels about this year’s presidential contest. Most of the tunes feature spoken-word intros by some unwitting collaborators, such as “Buzzsaw,” where the manipulated voice of conservative Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene repeats the title. From there Bob Stewart’s tuba kicks off the rhythmic, comical bass line before Lederer and trumpeter Kirk Knuffke drop the bombs of off-kilter unison work. Lederer, on tenor, delivers a slamming solo that, at times, sounds almost like a hyena laughing. Knuffke wails on muted trumpet while long-time Lederer cohort Matt Wilson attacks the drums and Curtis Hasselbring drops in electronics. All of it sonically creates a sense of chaos reflecting what many folks in this country are feeling right now. That sense intensifies throughout the album. “Buttigieg vs Sanders” features soundbytes from the two overlaid on top of each other because ain’t nobody listening, just talking. “Cheapening The Process” is a relief, a sweet bossa nova about former Rep. George Santos, a convicted felon, of course. Mary DeRose delivers some cynically delicious wordless vocalization that’s just fantastic. “Piccolo Buster” lampoons the filibuster with Lederer playing, yep, the piccolo. At the end of the tune, Wilson delivers an award-worthy solo on … the gavel. The title track, written by Hasselbring and Wilson, features Rep. Adam Schiff repeating “guilty” 34 times (in honor of you know what) with Lederer, Knuffke and Hasselbring playing along with each repetition. The album concludes with two of the finest politically charged works in jazz history: Charles Mingus’ “Fables Of Faubus” and Albert Ayler’s “Truth Is Marching In.” Both are killer sendups. And, anyone who’s heard Lederer play can attest to his love for Ayler’s sound. As a whole, “Guilty”!!! is tremendously thoughtful, and absurdly funny, stirring and racous. If you’re a staunch fan of the MAGA movement, ya might want to skip this one. But if you’ve got a sense of humor and a love of the absurd, check out this “GUILTY”!!! pleasure. As an added bonus, listeners can livestream or attend a special event. On Nov. 4, election night, from 8 to 9:30 p.m. EST, local musicians in St. Louis, New York City, Washington, D.C, Chicago and Milwaukee with join in to perform “Truth Is Marching In” together.

This haunting, profound, astonishing record is this reviewer’s pick for the year’s best — and it isn’t even close. Indeed, few albums released in any year achieve alto saxophonist/composer Wilkins’ improbable balance of ethereal and earthy, of searching and grounded, of virtuosic and plainspokenly lyrical. The afore-used “astonishing” doesn’t do it justice — but there’s no better word, either.

Blues Blood is Wilkins’ meditation on his own heritage in its many flavors and nuances. It’s also his first album to use vocals; while his core bandmates — pianist Micah Thomas, bassist Rick Rosato, drummer Kweku Sumbry — are each at their best (as are guest drummer Chris Dave and guitarist Marvin Sewell, the latter with particularly gorgeous, and appropriately spectral, work on “Apparition”), the singers stamp the album with its identity. The beauty of male vocalist Yaw Agyeman’s performance on “If That Blood Runs East,” attenuated but informed by gospel and R&B, is exquisite. So is Cécile McLorin Salvant, doing her some of her subtlest work on “Dark Eyes Smile” (with magnificent accompaniment by Thomas, and solos by Rosato and Wilkins, offsetting her), and Carnatic singer Ganavya’s soft croon on “Everything.” The variety of artistic perspectives that these vocalists represent is as sublime in itself as their performances are.

Undoubtedly, though, the linchpin of this recording is folk singer-songwriter June McDoom, the album’s featured vocalist. Her soft, breathy, insinuative delivery irradiates Blues Blood from the opening ballad “Matte Glaze” through the closing whispers of the epic title-track finale. She’s especially suited to the weightless glide of “Motion.” However, it’s her call-and-response performance with McLorin Salvant on the album’s other epic, the stately but kinetic “Afterlife Residence Time,” that most resounds. Each delivers evocative, achingly poetic lines and images capped with “These are my dreams,” with an otherworldly authority that will no doubt linger in yours.

Trombonist Ed Neumeister, a veteran improviser and bandleader known to spearhead brave feats of experimentalism, gets deep inside the rock music of his youth — five familiar tunes by the Beatles, two by Led Zeppelin, one made famous by Otis Redding and another hatched only a few years ago by Taylor Swift — on his latest outing. A collection of other artists’ popular tunes that serve as fresh fodder for his quartet, augmented on select tracks by a three-piece woodwind section, Covers represents an entirely fresh tack for Neumeister, who has been operating at the forefront of creative music for more than 40 years and has released over a dozen albums under his own name. In addition, he has collaborated as a player and composer with virtually everyone under the jazz sun, and he’s been a member of classic ensembles like the Buddy Rich Big Band, the Mel Lewis Jazz Orchestra and Lionel Hampton’s groups. The core band on Covers includes Gary Versace on piano, organ and accordion, bassists Drew Gress (on seven tracks) and Cameron Brown (on three), and Tom Rainey on drums. Billy Drewes, Caroline Davis and Ingrid Laubrock join the fray on three neatly arranged tracks, providing supplemental saxophones, flutes and clarinets as needed. Covers amounts to a deeply personal expression from Neumeister, a reflection on at time in his life when he was barely familiar with the jazz world he would soon inhabit with all its creative potential. It’s the sound of top-level jazz players making music for the sheer enjoyment of it, with just enough planning to keep form intact and synchronize the brilliant reharmonizations dreamed up by Neumeister and Versace. Neumeister puts his own idiosyncratic personal touches on the melodies of these memorable songs, while Versace holds the reins on the harmony, sometimes asserting bold and bright chord substitutions, and at other moments setting free any notion of “changes” whatsoever. The entire recording comes across as a chill hang where the free spirits frequently venture into whimsical territory while still showing tremendous respect for the source material and investing absolute trust in their leader’s modern-nostalgic vision.

At a time when it seems shouting is the only way to be heard, vocalist Dawn Richard and multi-instrumentalist Spencer Zahn have made a resounding statement to the contrary. Their new album, Quiet In A World Full Of Noise, is exactly that: calm, clear, declarative music in the most beautifully understated way possible. Floating on a bed of restrained strings, synth washes and minimalist pianism, Richard’s voice and Zahn’s piano feel like a midnight confessional telling two separate stories together at the same time. The effect is at once calming, thought-provoking, thrilling. The music was born out of hurt, as Richard and Zahn express in background materials for the recording. Richard’s father suffered mini strokes after being diagnosed with cancer last year; her cousin back in her hometown of New Orleans was shot dead. Zahn experienced the breakup of a relationship and went to the piano, writing “stream-of-consciousness pieces,” then putting them away for six months before sending them to Richard. Those from-the-heart piano compositions met Richard’s autobiographical lyrics to become the basis of Quiet. Every song here leaves the listener wanting more, like “Traditions,” an homage to family wrapped in a sentimental ballad. “My momma cover the mirror when it rains/She’ll lay that brick in front of the door just in case/You call it superstitions, I call it traditions/You call it lucky, I call it blessings,” she sings in her rich, soulful alto. Richard makes you feel her stories with skillful, impressionistic lyrics while Zahn drops in perfectly sparse piano accents. Life In Numbers counts down love, loss, pain and resilience in almost cinematic spoken-word and musical narrative. But for all of its seemingly stripped-down simplicity, Quiet has intense musicality that brings one back for multiple listenings. When the Budapest Film Orchestra guests on “Moments Of Stillness” into “The Dancer,” the album becomes a complex amalgamation of classical, jazz, blues, soul and Americana. This is an album that defies categorization, and that’s just fine. It’s a truly beautiful listening experience: a plaintive, truthful, wonderful piece of musical storytelling.

The byline alone is enough to make guitar nerds drool. American Jim Hall (1930–2013) is on anybody’s shortlist of all-time great jazz guitarists; Louis Stewart (1944–2016) is considered not only Ireland’s greatest but also one of the three or four most important Irish jazz musicians, period. Imagine, then, the audience’s thrill for this Dec. 26, 1982, duo summit at a Dublin cricket club.

The thrill was well met. Let’s acknowledge first that this is Hall’s show more than Stewart’s — why not? He was the international star and guest here. It begins with “Stella By Starlight,” his favorite opener, and goes on to feature Hall three times in solo tunes. All are incredible, though the trophy goes to his reimagining of “My Funny Valentine” as an English folk strummer. Hall’s other two tracks are an unusually tender “All The Things You Are” and an astonishingly dark “In A Sentimental Mood.”

What really stands out on The Dublin Concert, though, is how well Stewart maintains his prowess and distinction in the face of this celebrated virtuoso. After Hall solos on the first half of “Stella By Starlight,” for example, he falls back into accompaniment as happily and modestly as Stewart had for him, and the Irishman’s twangier, bluesier single-note lines announce themselves with joy and not a little swagger. They share breezy, mutually respectful exchanges on “How Deep Is The Open,” and sensitively undergird each other on the ballad “But Beautiful.”

But on “St. Thomas,” after the American gives up a peppy but fairly light improv, Stewart lets loose with an energized monster of a solo. It’s not an upstaging; Hall encourages it and prods Stewart all the way. It’s just another zesty reminder that individuality, not virtuosity, is what’s really at stake in jazz — and both of these players have it in equal measure.