At first, much of this album from the young UK saxophonist George Crowley sounds more like old jazz than the cutting-edge. But, like the previous generation's Julian Argüelles (a loosely similar player and composer of comparable imagination, relaxation and storytelling flair), his work sounds fresh, however explicitly it displays its roots. The lineup here is also a big plus: it's Kit Downes's trio, with Downes on piano, Calum Gourlay on bass and James Maddren on drums. Crowley's rolling, faintly dolorous tenor sax delivers the winding title track and encourages the first of a series of thoughtfully shaped and thrilling improvisations from Downes. Marty McFly is long-lined bebop reminiscent of Lennie Tristano's melodic mazes (Crowley sustains that cool school connection in his graceful Warne Marsh-like solo). Still Life develops from dark tenor fragments through lyrical swing to driving urgency. B Flat Man sounds like a Django Bates theme and Demerara Days like a standard song with extra bars. Downes's own Bela Lugosi moves closer to free jazz in its explosive piano solo, sax multiphonics and rhythm-section looseness. Insiders' stories about Crowley's growing promise haven't been exaggerated.
