Convergence: Reckless Meter

Even though the contours and boundaries of jazz have been substantially altered and recast through the years, it is good to know that some aspects of America's classical music remain basically unchanged, especially the propensity to design and use melodic, harmonic and rhythmic concepts as a springboard for group interaction and personal improvisation. On Reckless Meter, the Colorado-based co-op sextet Convergence blends the best of those criteria to produce an hour of bright and engaging contemporary jazz.

While there are few surprises, neither are there any moments that are less than seductive or pleasing as Convergence takes care of business with proficiency and gusto, as befits an ensemble that has been on top of its game for more than three decades. This is a group where every member plays a pivotal role, whether soloing or lending their staunch support to the others. It is a dynamic that stretches beyond performing to composing, as every one of the album's eight handsome themes was written by a member of the band: two each by bassist Mark Simon and tenor saxophonist John Gunther, the others by trombonist Mark Patterson, drummer Paul Romaine, pianist Eric Gunnison and trumpeter Greg Gisbert.

The session opens with Simon's finely grooved "Big Boot" and closes with his fast-paced "Reckless Meter," the first using a deceptively simple five-note motif to underline a far more sophisticated harmonic and rhythmic message, the second a go-for-broke lesson in group interplay and creative soloing whose meter may not be reckless but is quite flexible. Gunther wrote the breezy "Springaling," Patterson the lovely "Margaret Clara." Pride of place must go to Romaine's tasteful and clever "It's One or Not One" (based on the well-known standard "It's You or No One"), which precedes Gunther's walking "Master Jake," Gunnison's simmering "Cauldron" and Gisbert's colorful "Coyote Moon."

Everyone has a chance to solo more than once, and no one is less than astute and pleasing—and it goes without saying, of course, that the ensemble's unison passages are sturdy and seamless. Although Romaine writes that an audience was "right there in the room with us," it has to be one of the quietest audiences ever recorded, as no one makes even the slightest sound. Even so, Reckless Meter encases more than an hour of bright and pleasing music performed by one of the country's sharpest and most talented contemporary jazz ensembles.

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