Courtney Pine is evolving into one of the great new ambassadors of British jazz. His inclusive approach, which means he can skip happily across the presumed boundaries of style, genre, race and age, was showcased in the second gig of a five-night, sold-out residency at the Jazz Cafe in London.
The seven-piece band was in party mood. As soon as one number finished, the rhythm section (including drummer Robert Fordjour, percussionist Donald Gamble, guitarist Cameron Pierre, Peter Martin on bass and bass guitar and Alex Wilson on keyboards) started up the next without a pause. Sometimes the groove was subtle and quiet, and when the DJ's funky opening set gave way to the live players the predominant mood was spacey and modal.
Pine's is a distinctly British version of jazz-funk, which easily embraces skanking reggae, calypso flavours and what you might call acoustic drum'n'bass (which sounds very close to straight jazz). Trombonist Dennis Rollins is a good front-line foil to Pine, setting off the leader's flights of virtuosity with simple, gutsy solos (using a wah-wah pedal at one point) and blasting out the tunes with easy assurance.
Some of the best pieces employed the quirky but effective combination of soprano sax and trombone, and they play the tricky melodies from memory. The set included several numbers from Pine's recent Back in the Day album, including Power to the People, My Father's Place, Keep it Real and The Jazzstep.
Pine picked up the EWI (electric wind instrument) for an affecting version of Monk's Round Midnight, a synthesised arrangement that recalled Michael Brecker's version of In a Sentimental Mood for Steps Ahead. For another piece he played with rhythmic repeat echoes in the manner of John Surman's pioneering solo gigs. Pine's wide knowledge of the jazz heritage, and the influence of John Coltrane in particular, is never far from the surface, so you might hear a snatch of Softly as in a Morning Sunrise or A Love Supreme erupting from a lengthy saxophone solo. But Pine is keen to assert the local tradition, paying tribute to a rollcall of British players including Joe Harriott, Ernest Ranglin and Ronnie Scott.
His saxophone playing reminded me a little of Don Rendell, who absorbed the lessons of Coltrane after coming of age in an era when jazz was still principally entertainment music. Pine has travelled in a different direction, learning to use elements of pop and dance after starting in more purist territory - but nothing he has learned has been wasted. His unique position on the scene means that an extended "look-no-hands" experiment in saxophone harmonics and circular breathing works as crowd-pleasing spectacle.
The audience, a mix of male and female, young and old, black and white, took it all in, clapping on the off-beat while Pine and Rollins mimed silently for one chorus, joining in with the Zulu jumping, appearing to love every minute. At one point Pine surveyed his loyal subjects and asked for a bit of call-and-response: "I say U, you say K." "UK!" You couldn't ask for a better plea for peace, love and unity this holiday.
