Reggie Pittman/Loren Daniels Quartet's Smilessence

This new album from horn player Reggie Pittman and keyboardist Loren Daniels is as sunny and bright as its cover, a solid and straightforward jazz quartet sound that feels like it's been waiting in the shadows preparing to jump out as you pass by. Isn't it a great day? Do you need a little more beauty in your life? Man, I like that shirt you're wearing!

There's an exceptional clarity to this album that's downright exciting. The overall sound is so clearly delineated in three dimensions, so well-drawn and defined. Everything just pops. (Yeah, that's a cliche that needs to be retired soon.) It all goes back to my comment last week in that El Eco review: "I like this one because it's really nice." Perhaps we could substitute right for nice and you'll have a clearer idea of what I'm saying, that the difference between good jazz and great jazz is noticeable within the first few seconds. You either have four or five people playing music, with each one playing a certain role, or you have a combined whole that just swings and moves forward with considerable momentum. It sounds right, it makes sense. You have no choice but to hop on board.

Pittman and Daniels are, once again, a couple of old pros who have played with everyone including Aretha Franklin, Milt Jackson, Rufus Reid, the Temptations and even the Allman Brothers. This particular quartet, which also includes bassist Mike Richmond and drummer Jonathon Peretz, is one of those "working bands" that have been playing together for a long time and are therefore as tight as a drum. I'm particularly impressed with Peretz--his drumming is as exciting and as dynamic as it gets in jazz. I also enjoy the way that Daniels can completely change the tone of a song by alternating between piano, electric piano and the ubiquitous Hammond B-3. Pittman's horns are front and center most of the way--and he is a master of mood. I'm even bowled over by Richmond's bass--he's a great player and all, but I'm equally thrilled that he's recorded so clearly (can you sense a theme here?) that you can hear his mechanics, they way he leans into his instrument and pulls those notes out, kicking and screaming.

Every track is an adventure, full of distinct charms and unique perspectives. This quartet isn't satisfied with just playing a tune and seeing how it comes out. There's some thought involved, especially in the way these four performers switch up their styles and see how that adds to the whole. Not everyone out there is doing that. Smilessence is exactly that, a smile-inducing shot of jazz that captures the essence of who these four performers are, and where they have been.

El Eco with Guillermo Nojechowicz--Puerto de Buenos Aires 1933

I like this one because it's really nice.

Imagine if all music reviews were like that. (And I've definitely seen a couple of reviewers who say little more than that, in a couple of hundred words of course.) But when I say this new album from Argentine jazz ensemble El Eco is really nice, I mean exactly that. You listen to the romantic melodies, the tight playing, the gorgeous sound quality, the passionate performances and, most importantly, the artistic risks and you think "Man, this is niiiice." It's not vague, it's not damning with faint praise. This is a jazz recording that immediately captures your interest and puts a smile on your face.

This project was the brainchild of drummer Guillermo Nojechowicz, who studied film scoring at the Berklee College of Music in Boston. As a child he used to travel to Buenos Aires with his family, and he discovered an old passport and photographs of his grandfather that triggered so many musical memories. When you think about the world in 1933, you'll understand why these memories are not necessarily happy ones--Nojechowicz's father was only three at the time his family left Europe for South America, and many of the people they left behind did not survive the Holocaust. That's why much of this beautiful music is imbued with deeper emotions such as the fear of change, or having to deal with extreme financial hardship so that your children might have a better future. We're no longer talking about things that are nice.

These hidden depths might not be immediately noticeable during a casual listen. Kim Nazarian's vocals, for instance, are very sultry and passionate and even border on celebratory, and it takes a keen ear to sense the sadness--but it's there. Many of the songs here start off with an almost funereal tempo, to reflect the troubles in Europe, and burst with energy once the South American influences emerge. And because we're talking mostly about Argentina, we do get those stirring undercurrents of the tango, with occasional punctuation from Roberto Cassan's accordion.

But this album belongs to Nojechowicz. It's his drumming and percussion that drives these songs, and his subtle inflections that determine where we are traveling at any given moment. He uses time signatures to underscore his themes with amazing subtlety. It's his attention to detail that makes the whole so musically pleasing, so complete in its execution. It's nice to hear a jazz release in 2017 that's both original and so very confident.