Coming off Recycled Goods, I started with some old comps, then segued through a good portion of the queue. Looks like I have about as many new records still unplayed. I figure next week will be more first-pass prospecting, then I'll settle down and try to pull a new column together. In doing so, I'll shoot for the minimum 1600 words rather than the 2000-2400 I've been handing in.

I don't have anything more to report on my status re the Village Voice. The music editor hasn't gotten back to me, and in any case isn't necessarily the one calling the shots. Whether it would be "weird" to continue publishing my column without Christgau's is one dangling thread. If that's all it is, I suppose we could call it something else and slip it by. Rob Harvilla did express an interest in me continuing to do something on jazz for the Voice, so that's another dangling thread. Where Christgau lands may or may not have an effect. He's been talking to a lot of people, but I don't know the details or whether any of it is even promising. My own best suggestion is that he institutionalize himself, setting up some sort of foundation for the advancement of rock crit -- in effect, go back to being the Dean, a role he somewhat retreated from when he gave up the music editor slot at the Voice to focus on his own writing.

I'm willing to entertain offers or suggestions as well -- for the Jazz Consumer Guide or some form of derivative. I've never had much luck freelancing. I thought I had a gig at St. Louis Today a week before they went out of business. I had something in D.C. set up, then got sick and left town. Lester Bangs encouraged me to write for Creem, then he quit and left town. I can think of three or four other things that never panned out. I did get the Rear View Mirror column at Seattle Weekly for a few months. I wrote part of Rolling Stone's Record Guide, but they never offered me a review in the magazine. I bugged Joe Levy at one point about doing a jazz box there, which may or may not have led to David Fricke writing one. I've tried pitching a diary-type column, loosely based on the one British jazz curmudgeon Philip Larkin wrote. On the other hand, I wound up writing for the Voice because Christgau saw some of my samizdat and chased me down. And Recycled Goods was the result of Michael Tatum wooing me. The work I did for Michaelangelo Matos and Christian Hoard also came about after they approached me. So I don't exactly feel I'm in the driving seat on all this.

One thing that the current up-in-the-air status has meant is that I've been reluctant to chase down a lot of recent things. The prospect of a Voice review has certainly been a major draw for publicists, so I don't have a good feel for where I might stand if that prop goes away -- indeed, whether I might still be standing. Obviously, I can continue Jazz Prospecting Notes as long as I get the material. That provides some exposure, and is useful for anyone dedicated enough to wade through the blog. I can always self-publish Jazz CG, but that sort of makes it a self-indulgence, unless I try to make a serious run with Terminal Zone. I can try to work up some sort of jazz record guide -- the current database rated count for jazz is 5427 records, which is way short of The Penguin Guide but otherwise pretty substantial. Don't know. Meanwhile, keep on doing.

Herbie Hancock: Jazz to Funk (1966-69 [2006], Aim, 2CD): The booklet describes these as "some of Herbie Hancock's rarest and most interesting recordings from the 1960s," but doesn't give much more than hints about who did what when and where. As near as I can tell, the first disc reproduces a 1969 album originally released as Kawaida under drummer Albert "Tootie" Heath's name. The dominant personality on the album is Don Cherry, who springs Jimmy Heath into a free frenzy on soprano and tenor sax -- a dimension I've never heard before. Tootie is also working way outside his normal bounds, with Ed Blackwell and James Mtume adding to the percussion. Hancock and Buster Williams hold their own in this group. Billy Bonner plays flute, and there are chants and the like, giving this a period feel, not far removed from what Pharoah Sanders was doing at the time. The other disc appears to be outtakes from the 1966 sessions for the Blow Up soundtrack. This is more conventional fare, with tenor saxophonist Joe Henderson standing out in a group reportedly including Freddie Hubbard, Joe Newman, Phil Woods, Jim Hall, Ron Carter and Jack DeJohnette. But, as is often the case with soundtrack music, pieces vary: one called "Far Out" sounds like electric bass, vibes, congas, and flute, none of which are documented. Nice minor groove piece, as is the flute-dominated closer "Hot and Heavy." B+(**)

Stanley Turrentine: Flipped Out on Love (1971-72 [2006], Aim): Again, only bare hints in the doc. The first eleven cuts come from Flipped, an album originally released in 1971 on Canyon, and reissued on CD in 1995 on Drive Archive. That would place it between his tenures at Blue Note and CTI. The idea seems to be to go pop, with covers like "Brown Eyed Woman" and "Let It Be" and a couple of Stevie Wonder tunes. With his creamy tone, He sounds light and happy on those. The album closes with three songs from a 1972 Gloria Lynne album, also on Canyon, presumably with Turrentine in the mix somewhere, but he's obscured by the big production, the backing singers, and the general blight of ordinariness. B

Charles Mingus: Thrice Upon a Theme (1954-57 [2006], Aim, 2CD): More profiteering in obscurities, but this time the discs aren't so obscure they pose any problems tracking down. In fact, they're already on my shelves. The 1954 session originally appeared on two 10-inch Bethlehem releases, which are combined -- different song order from here -- in Rhino's 1999 The Jazz Experiments of Charlie Mingus. They're a fascinating set of orchestral sketches, seeds that Mingus developed over the following decade. The second disc is a Hampton Hawes piano trio originally on Roulette originally released as Mingus Three, reissued in 1997. For packaging, and for that matter for documentation, I prefer the separate discs. Two arguments for this one are that the aforementioned reissues are out of print, and list price here isn't exorbitant at $16.98. Still, I feel like docking it a notch for discographical confusion. B

Mingus Big Band: Live in Tokyo (2005 [2006], Sunnyside): Nothing new here: a thirteen-piece band trying to hold its own on a repertoire made famous by groups half that size, and struggling in the process -- I swear, the half-sized groups had twice the muscle, no doubt because Mingus himself wouldn't accept anything less. I'm sure it's fun to play this music, but mostly we just get are shadows and reverberations of past glory. Maybe that's the point of ghost bands, but it's been 24 years since Mingus Dynasty rose and 13 since the Big Band debuted -- hasn't the novelty worn off? Midway through I started thinking this might be my next dud, but then I remembered I've already so honored a Mingus big band, and this is nowhere near as lame as the Marsalis record. But it pulls its punches, and not just on stage, as when they dropped off the second half of the title to "Free Cell Block F, 'Tiz Nazi USA." I mean, do you really think that Mingus himself would be less inclined to apply that title to America today than he was in 1975? [B-]

Charles Mingus: At UCLA 1965 (1965 [2006], Sunnyside, 2 CD): Alternate title, which didn't fit on the spine: Music Written for Monterey 1965 Not Heard . . . Played Live in Its Entirety at UCLA. The music went unheard at Monterey when Mingus got squeezed down to a 30-minute set. This was recorded a week later at a jazz workshop, and retains the flavor of his early experimental workshops, as he lectures, hectors, moves people around, and talks to the audience. As with the workshops, it doesn't feel quite sorted out, and the penchant for long, intricate orchestration isn't my favorite Mingus facet. The recordings have been remastered from limited edition vinyl, which leaves some question about the sound -- I have trouble following the patter, but the music is in pretty good shape. Still working on it. [B+(**)]

Chico Hamilton: Juniflip (2003-05 [2006], Joyous Shout): The legendary cool jazz drummer turns 85 this September, and he's got four new albums to celebrate with. That's quite a lot to deal with, especially from a guy I've never paid much attention to -- only have two of his albums in my database, both unrated Soul Notes from the early '90s, although I must have a big pile of records he's played drums on over the last 50+ years. (Well, small pile, anyway. Looks like most of his session work goes back past Gerry Mulligan and Chet Baker to Lester Young and Billie Holiday.) All four albums have the same core group: Cary Denigris on guitar, Paul Ramsey on Fender bass, Evan Schwam and Andrew Haddo on flute and reeds, and Jeremy Carlstedt on percussion. Some have an extra flute/reeds player -- Karolina Strassmayer here, Geoffrey Countryman on two others. Most have guests: trombones here, plus vocals by Bill Henderson (two cuts) and Arthur Lee (one). But that's all set up. The record does little for me, although there are things I like fine. The drummer has a nice swivel, a little too fleeting to be called swing. The guitar and drums amplify that, but also color it, and I don't much care for their tones. The reeds provide more bulk, but as color they are strictly pastel, and none are able to take command. So picture them as grasses or flowers shuffling to and fro, swivelling from the drums. That's fair enough as to represent Hamilton, but I'm looking forward to four 70-minute albums of the same. The vocals at least break things up a bit, and they're the best things here. Not sure I've ever said that about Henderson before, so not sure that's much of a compliment. B-

Chico Hamilton: Believe (2005 [2006], Joyous Shout): This seems to be a little more forthright than Juniflip, both in the guitar and the saxophone. Nothing strikes me as bad, annoying, or even boring, although at 72:47 it is plenty long. Fontella Bass guests, singing three pieces. She never gets much traction, even on her bread and butter gospel, and not just because Chico chills out. B

Chico Hamilton: 6th Avenue Romp (2006, Joyous Shout): Just have advances of the last two releases in Hamilton's quadfecta, so I don't have session info. Hype sheet says this is, "an elegy to '60s era L.A. which moves from Motown covers to a song entitled 'Elevation' that sounds like Coltrane sitting in with WAR (guitarist Shuggie Otis, son of the great Johnny Otis, guests here)." Actually, the credits put Otis on a different cut, but they're probably wrong. But any case I'd worry more about Evan Schwam as Coltrane than anyone as WAR. While "Ain't No Sunshine" is the theme here -- at least it gets a reprise -- "Take the 'A' Train" isn't exactly a '60s L.A. theme song. It turns out that "Elevation" ain't bad, but the sax influence appears to be Wayne Shorter rather than Coltrane, and it's a soprano. "'A' Train" is done with the vocal -- presumably Brenna Bavis, the cut credits are screwed up here too -- and it ain't bad either. But the only thing here that moves beyond "not bad" is a guest shot on trumpet -- Jon Faddis. B

Chico Hamilton: Heritage (2006, Joyous Shout): I've played each of these albums twice, which means I've put about ten hours into the series. A third pass might lead me to appreciate the subtleties of Hamilton's art more, although I don't doubt that I get the basic idea: he's always been a slippery fellow, and his post-cool just scales his approach up through the band. He brings a long history of references into the mix, but in the end they're so uniformly integrated that everything reduces to consistency. A third pass might just as well drive me to a pique of downgrading. But neither is all that likely -- there's very little to dislike even if there's also very little to get excited about. This last volume is meant as an homage to Gerald Wilson, who wrote three of the pieces. That means more texturing, which is not something this doctor would prescribe. Two vocals by Marya Lawrence are the high points. A third by Hamilton is a throwaway. B-

George Gruntz Concert Jazz Band: Tiger by the Tail (2005 [2006], TCB): Swiss pianist and big band arranger, Gruntz is in his 70s now, and his Concert Jazz Band dates back to the '70s. I've missed his records up to this one, so I have no idea how this fits in, but a glance through the Penguin Guide indicates that the size and personnel are highly volatile. He travels a lot and records with musicians he finds along the way -- this was recorded in NYC, hence a conspicuous number of Americans, several bringing their own music. And clearly he prefers unleashing the musicians to see what they come up with to trying to tame them in pursuit of some artistic vision of his own. This blows up pretty quickly, with six trumpets leading the charge, but settles down for some more intricate stuff before the program ends. If someone like Pierre Dørge is trying to project a postmodern Ellington orchestra, Gruntz's analog would be to Woody Herman -- not so far out, but raucous, rowdy, a platform for soloists and rough-hewn teamwork. B+(**)

HR-Bigband: Once in a Lifetime (2003 [2006], TCB): HR, usually lowercased, stands for Hessische Rundfunk; i.e., Hessian Radio. Based in Frankfurt, the group dates back to 1946, with Jörg Achim Keller the director since 2000. Which makes it an example of the sort of cultural institution that Europe does a much better job of supporting than the US does -- just not a very inspiring one. It does offer the usual big band virtues. And this record has slots for two guests: organist Joey DeFrancesco and drummer Jeff Hamilton. The former is conspicuous and often entertaining, providing a useful contrast to the brass. I'd give you an analogue to Dørge-Ellington and Gruntz-Herman if I could think of one. B-

Oscar Peterson/Ella Fitzgerald: JATP Lausanne 1953 (Swiss Radio Days, Vol. 15) (1953 [2006], TCB): The pianist gets top billing for endurance. He backs Ella on the first eight numbers, then leads his trio with Ray Brown and Barney Kessel for the last five. On one track, closing Ella's set, Lester Young leaps in and Charlie Shavers piles on. Nothing here you haven't heard elsewhere, except maybe Ella's short scat intro to "Lester Leaps In." Still, Ella's "Lady Be Good" and OP's "The Surrey With the Fringe on Top" are stellar. B+(**)

Dave Glasser: Above the Clouds (2006, Arbors): Mainstream alto saxophonist, has a bit of Paul Desmond's tone sandwiched between slightly more vintage concepts of swing and bebop. Plays here with a piano-bass-drums quartet, on a program that's half original, half standards -- the former are minor exercises, while the latter offer instant gratification. B+(*)

The World's Greatest Jazz Band: At Manchester's Free Trade Hall, England, 1971 (1971 [2006], Arbors, 2CD): The group name is functional in several respects. For one thing it cautions you that "great" and especially "greatest" are limits as well as superlatives. There is, after all, a limit to how much greatness any of us can really stand, beyond which the great become targets for revolution. On the other hand, if you're Yank Lawson or Bob Haggart -- two journeymen from the swing era, playing trumpet and bass, respectively -- you can see that the prospect of assembling a band with legends like Bud Freeman and Vic Dickenson and such relatively young masters of the trad jazz craft as Bob Wilber and Ralph Sutton might justify such hyperbole. Lawson and Haggart kept the name going for a ten-year stretch (1968-78), shifting lineups around along the way. This group includes Billy Butterfield, who gets most of the trumpet features, Ed Hubble on trombone, and Gus Johnson Jr. on drums. In the past, concerts like would have been edited down to sharpen the impact, but at this late date they go for history, keeping all the intros and applause, calling out features for the stars. Sutton's stand out. B+(*)

Ralph Sutton: At St. George Church, Brandon Hill, Bristol, England (1992 [2006], Arbors, 2CD): Solo piano. I turned the volume up to better follow Alyn Shipton's introduction -- the two discs correspond to two BBC broadcasts -- and that helps. He recorded a lot of solo piano over five decades, and I can't begin to comparison shop, but this seems relatively informal, an old master more at play than at work -- rearranging and transposing, stringing medleys together, breaking for the odd story. B+(**)

Alan Broadbent: Every Time I Think of You (2005 [2006], Artistry): Actually, they don't give a recording date -- 2005 is a previous copyright date, which presumably gets us a bit closer to the correct answer. Piano trio with Brian Bromberg on "wood bass" -- seems to be an early 1700s Matteo Guersam double bass or reasonable facsimile thereof -- and Kendall Kay on drums, backed by the otherwise unidentified Tokyo Strings. Not the sort of thing I often like: the strings fit the lushly romantic mode, similar to what Broadbent did for Quartet West, but it was easier to think that the cheesiness was ironical there. Broadbent's piano tends toward lushness as well, but compared to the strings it is a disciplinary force. By the end it wears on me, but early on it had me wondering whether lushness is such a bad thing after all. B+(**)

Luis Bacalov: Il Postino (1994-2000 [2006], CAM Jazz): This is mostly the original motion picture soundtrack, composed and conducted by Bacalov, plus a later version of the title track done up by the Giovanni Tommasso-Enrico Rava Quartet. The soundtrack won the Oscar for best original score in 1996, as well as numerous other awards. It's a lovely piece of work, with clarinet and bandoneon straddling the boundaries between folk and jazz. One vocal piece, sung by Alma Rosa. Rava's trumpet at the end is subdued but sweet. B+(**)

Edward Simon: Unicity (2006, CAM Jazz): Piano trio with John Pattitucci and Brian Blade. Simon was born in Venezuela, came to the US to study, was tutored by Harold Danko, hooked up with Kevin Eubanks and Greg Osby, had something to do with M-Base, has half a dozen albums, including a couple on Criss Cross. I've bumped into him as a sideman, especially with Bobby Watson, but I can't say I'm familiar with him. My bottom line on piano trios is that I know what I like even if I can't tell you why. This one is especially hard for me to pin down, but I like it enough to keep it in the queue. [B+(*)]

Dave Holland Quintet: Critical Mass (2005 [2006], Dare2/Sunnyside): I've played this four or five times, always thinking that for such an obviously important record I shouldn't comment until I'm able to say something deeper than "it has some good moments, but it's awful goddamn long." Will keep it open, not so much because I have hopes that it will eventually cohere, much less attain critical mass; more like I might finally figure out what's wrong with it and nab Chris Potter with that Dud he's been dodging ever since he got unexpectedly strong. Not that I expect it's going to be his fault -- he has as many good moments as anyone. More likely the auteur, which is what makes it difficult. [B+(*)]

Fred Fried: The Wisdom of the Notes (2006, Ballet Tree): The name always throws me. Presumably it's pronounced "free-d" but as a rock critic I can think of several artists who adopted past tense verbs as surnames, like Michelle Shocked. His bio doesn't mention anything about having been a short-order cook, but it does emphasize his debt to George Van Eps. Following Van Eps, Fried plays a nylon 7-string guitar. Last time I heard him accompanied with strings I'd rather do without, but this trio, with Michael Moore on bass and Tony Tedesco on drums, serves him especially well. [B+(***)]

Mike Frost Project: Comin' Straight At Ya' (2006, Blujazz): A Chicago group, led by the two Frost brothers -- Mike on tenor/soprano sax and Steve on trumpet/flugelhorn. With organ and guitar, they lean toward soul jazz, but the brothers keep returning to classic bebop. The two percussionists don't resolve this one way or another, and the fact that one is ex-Vandermark Five drummer Tim Mulvenna means nothing. A likable record, but not much to it. B

Anton Schwartz: Radiant Blue (2005 [2006], Anton Jazz): AMG describes Schwartz as "influenced by Wayne Shorter, John Coltrane and Joe Henderson as well as Dexter Gordon." That's nicer than saying he was influenced by Bob Mintzer, but that's about what it adds up to. He's breaks no new ground, but is so centered in the tradition the old ground he covers reminds you of everyone. He has trouble establishing his own sound, although I suspect the recording has something to do with that. The group includes guitar and piano, bass and drums. Guitarist Peter Bernstein is a definite plus. Pianist Taylor Eigsti doesn't make much difference one way or the other. Not inconceivable this could gain a notch if I gave it a chance. B

Branford Marsalis: Braggtown (2006, Marsalis Music/Rounder): A note in the booklet: "This album is dedicated to the memory of Jackie McLean, John Hicks, Hilton Ruiz, Rosalie Edwards, Stan Chin, Joyce Alexander Wein, Shirley Horn, John Stubblefield, Don Alias, Ray Barretto, Roy Brooks, Keter Betts, Lucky Thompson, Percy Heath, Arnie Lawrence, Jimmy Smith and Benny Bailey." A couple of names there don't ring a bell for me, and others could have been added, but it's been a brutal year. Good, therefore, that Branford seems to be back in his game. This is his working quartet -- pianist Joey Calderazzo gets some flashy solo spots, while Eric Revis and Jeff Watts hold things together. The credits don't specify which "saxophones" Branford uses, but he tends to charge hard on tenor and wax eloquent on soprano -- not clear if there's an alto or any other sax in his kit. Just played this while multitasking, so I don't have any idea whether the booklet references to Chopin-like nocturnes and Messiaen-like piano solos are just bullshit, I'm pleased enough to keep it in play. [B+(**)]

John Hollenbeck & Jazz Bigband Graz: Joys & Desires (2004 [2006], Intuition): There's too much going on here for me to wrap my brain around. The big band can function as one instrument or many, but rarely as a set of individuals, even the ones noted for their solos. Part of the complication is Theo Bleckmann, credited with electronic effects as well as vocals. The first piece is his show: he recites a Wallace Stevens poem with little more than his effects for background. He appears several times after, notably in the first and third parts of the title set. The latter starts out in slow church mode, but eventually shifts into something far more joyous. The middle piece is an ecstatic dance, thoroughly delightful. But that's only some of what's going on here. I may never get it all, but this is one of the more remarkable discs I've heard recently. [B+(***)]

The Diplomats: We Are Not Obstinate Islands (2004 [2006], Clean Feed): Money's tight everywhere -- certainly in the jazz business, but all the more so in the jazz writing business, especially given that all I'm guaranteed for the next Jazz CG is a kill fee. When I'm deluding myself that writing this column is something other than economic suicide, I often comfort myself by thinking that at least I'm building up an amazing reference collection -- in my no doubt even more impoverished retirement I'll have plenty to listen to. To paraphrase Fat Freddie, music will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no music. But what used to be my favorite European label has come up with two ways of saving money that make my life more difficult, not to mention what I just mentioned. One is that they're shipping out cardboard sleeve promo copies instead of something resembling the actual product. The other is that they ship the promo lit in PDF files via email -- well, don't get me started on the evils of PDF. So to review one of these records I have to dig back through my email and save off the attachment and bring up xpdf, at which point I discover that they're probably cutting some more costs on their liner note writing. I hope that at least they'll put some of that money back into the music, but it's hard to tell from this one. The Diplomats is a meaningless name. The band consists of Rob Brown on alto sax, Steve Swell on trombone, and Harris Eisenstadt on drums. The music is free improv from a gig in Rochester -- not much, although I'm always glad to hear from these guys, especially Brown. One thing I've always liked about Pedro Costa is his willingness to pick up a tape that makes no business sense and put it out just because he likes it. At least that much hasn't changed. B

Whit Dickey: Sacred Ground (2004 [2006], Clean Feed): Best known as one of the series of drummers in the David S. Ware Quartet, Dickey has emerged as an interesting free jazz leader. But regardless of what he writes, or how he centers his drums, the fireworks come from the horns, with Rob Brown's alto sax fleet and rough, and Roy Campbell's trumpet his perfect foil. The fourth member of the quartet is Joe Morris, playing double bass instead of his usual guitar -- although there's at least one spot where he sure fooled me. B+(***)

Ken Filiano/Steve Adams: The Other Side of This (2002 [2006], Clean Feed): Filiano is a bassist I run across with some frequency, and his presence on an album is always a good sign. Adams I didn't recognize, although after throwing out some false leads, I find that I should have known better. He plays all sorts of woodwinds, with sopranino sax an evident favorite. Past credits include Composers in Red Sneakers, Birdsongs of the Mesozoic, Your Neighborhood Saxophone Quartet, Rova Saxophone Quarter, various Vinny Golia projects, and at least three previous albums with Filiano. These are just duets: 2-3 cuts each on sopranino sax, alto sax, tenor sax, flute, and bass flute. They are interesting in their detailed interplay, but not the sort of thing that might known anyone's socks off -- the sort of thing I like when I manage to pay sufficient attention, but I'd rather recommend records you don't have to pay attention to in order to like. B+(*)

IMI Kollektief: Snug as a Gun (2005 [2006], Clean Feed): If Afro-Brazilian music is typified by its rhythms, what happens when you try to transform it into free jazz? Is it still in any meaningful sense Afro-Brazilian? That question comes more from the PDF file than from the music, which has a streak of good humor but nothing much that nails it down. Brazilian saxophonist Alípio Carvalho Neto is the is the leading voice here, but the group is international -- French, Belgian, Portuguese -- with trumpet and vibes complementing the sax. B

Dennis González Boston Project: No Photograph Available (2003 [2006], Clean Feed): Recorded live in Boston on a sidetrip with a quickly assembled group of locals: Either/Or Orchestra saxophonist Charlie Kohlhase, bassists Nate McBride and Joe Morris, and a teenaged Morris student named Croix Galipault on drums. The basses are central, slipping into scratchy duets when the horns back off, or more often setting up a pulse which the horns mimic and amplify. González had largely slipped off the radar playing with his Dallas band Yells at Eels, but this started an outreach that led to a remarkable series of albums: NY Midnight Suite, Nile River Suite, and especially Idle Wild. Compared to them, this is rough and a bit tentative. B+(**)

Myra Melford/Be Bread: The Image of Your Body (2003 [2006], Cryptogramophone): Looks like another slipcase promo, with the press doc buried in MS Word files -- ugh! even worse than PDF! -- on a website, but this is an advance and I'm likely to see the real thing before I finalize. Melford is one of the major pianists of her generation, dazzling when she goes outside, delightful on the soft inside fills. She likes to name her groups, even though this quintet has three-fifths in common with last album's quintet, the Tent. This starts off with her on harmonium, a hand-pumped organ she's studied in India and Pakistan, although she returns to piano for most of the album. Interesting group mix: trumpeter Cuong Vu and bassist Stomu Takeishi lean toward fusion on their own; guitarist Brandon Ross has some hip-hop on his resume as well as work for Butch Morris and Henry Threadgill; drummer Elliot Humberto Kavee was last seen working with Vijay Iyer and Steve Lehman in Fieldwork. Lot of intriguing stuff here to sort out. [B+(***)]

Nels Cline: New Monstery: A View Into the Music of Andrew Hill (2006, Cryptogramophone): Another advance, due out Sept. 26. Technical problems prevent me from quoting the bit in the liner notes where Cline describes his idea of augmenting his trio -- the so-called Nels Cline Singers -- with Ben Goldberg's clarinets and Andrea Parkins' accordion to play a batch of some modern master's music, and how it took him three or four seconds to settle on Andrew Hill. He wound up adding Bobby Bradford's cornet as well, which provides a bright contrast to what is otherwise a rather murky set of instruments. No verdict as yet, but it has moments of promise. [B+(*)]

And these are final grades/notes on records I put back for further listening the first time around.

Adam Lane's Full Throttle Orchestra: New Musical Kingdom (2001-04 [2006], Clean Feed): I've only heard two of Lane's albums, and he only has a half-dozen or so, so it may be premature to annoint him as the new Mingus, but that there's even a contender for such a unique role is quite a surprise. That he plays an imposing bass, he composes pieces that are rooted in the tradition but fly off in the most improbable of directions, and he runs a six piece band at its advertised full throttle. A-

Ben Allison: Cowboy Justice (2005 [2006], Palmetto): When he got ticked off, Mingus used to slap political slogans onto his pieces, figuring that -- this was the pre-Braxton era -- the titles had to be words and if he had to use words he might as well say something, like "Remember Rockefeller at Attica" or "Free Cell Block F, 'Tis Nazi U.S.A." Reading Allison's notes -- photocopied, because Palmetto pioneered the slipcase promos I've ragged on Clean Feed over -- I'm reminded of Mingus, and of course of Charlie Haden -- perhaps a more immediate model for Allison, both as bassist and as composer. But I'm also impressed by Allison's analysis. A sample: "The title of the tune 'Tricky Dick' was inspird by the misdeeds, lies and manipulations of Dick Cheney. Tricky Dick was originally a nickname given to Richard Nixon, who was brought down by a crime that was comparatively benign by today's standards. Now there's a new dick in town. It's amazing to me how so many shadowy figures from the past have reemerged and risen so far in contemporary American politics." The music comes from somewhere else, including his choice of instrumentation -- trumpet, guitar, bass, drums -- which he justifies by saying, "I wanted to rock." "Tricky Dick" moves swiftly on Steve Cardenas's guitar roll, then Ron Horton kicks in with high notes on trumpet. "Talking Heads" intensifies the pace and the punch, something like a mariachi. "Emergency" works a variation on W.C. Handy -- "nothing to do with love lost, but instead is an expression of the anger and frustration I feel as a result of the way the Bush administration responded to the terrorist attacks of 9/11" -- with trumpet seething. Midway, the opener reprises with "Tricky Rides Again" -- so infectious it stands out on an album where everything stands up. The bassist is never conspicuous here, but Cardenas and especially Horton have never had so many good lines to play. If I had to pull the CG together right now, this and Lane would be my pick hits, and the column title would be something like "Bass Instincts." A-

In writing the Clean Feed comment, I got to wondering about which labels I have featured the most over the ten Jazz CGs to date. I went through the list, awarding 3 points for each pick hit, 2 for each A-list paragraph review, and 1 for each honorable mention. I also counted duds, but didn't give the feature extra credit. I consolidated some labels, but maybe not as many as I could. The tallies are as follows (raw counts in parens; duds, if any, after semicolon):

I saw a press release that Concord was acquiring Telarc, which would give them a combined score of 11 (0,3,5) plus a substantial lead in the duds category with 10. Palmetto has 6 duds, with a positive score of 3 (0,1,1). The only other sources of multiple duds are Blue Note and Columbia (including Legacy) at 3 each, Verve (including GRP) and Rounder (i.e., Marsalis Music) at 2. Columbia has a positive of 4, Verve and Rounder 2 each. I don't think the dud counts are all that significant -- I don't pick all that many, and the reasons are pretty idiosyncratic. It strikes me that the positives are skewed as well, in part because I tend to avoid duplicating what Francis Davis writes about. Oherwise, Verve and Palmetto would have cracked the list, while Blue Note, ECM, High Note, and Pi -- maybe a few others -- would have scored higher. Another factor hurt Leo and Tzadik: no mailing list, which is worse than my complaints about Clean Feed.