Western jazz musicians were exploring Arabic music and maqams(modes) half a century ago, long before ‘world music’ became a scene.

The album title here refers to some of the late works of saxophonist John Coltrane, an artist that inspired London’s Denys Baptiste and generations of other sax players besides. Coltrane himself recorded these lesser-known numbers in 1965, the year before his groundbreaking A Love Supreme, and many of the tracks were released posthumously.

On this live album Lloyd revisits several of ‘my many children’, and it’s fascinating to hear how his view of these fine compositions has evolved. The earliest include ‘Passin’ Thru’, recorded in 1962 with Chico Hamilton, ‘How Can I Tell You’, recorded for Columbia in 1964, and ‘Dream Weaver’ and ‘Tagore’ featured with his breakthrough quartet on its late-1960s tours and recordings.

Coming alongside his recent 70th birthday celebrations, this exploratory borehole into the jazz stratum of Daryl Runswick’s career redeems itself from self-indulgence by being both original (none of this material has appeared before) and an invaluable snapshot of 1970s British modern jazz in live performance.

Neil Ardley’s day job in the ’70s was writing science books, yet he also made his name composing and arranging Third Stream (a fusion of jazz and classical) music for London’s young jazz talents. These live recordings, made for radio in 1971, are like a time capsule with their strings, ‘proggy’ guitar and weird electronic effects.

Pianist Aaron Parks has a mellifluous, expansive style and all except one of the pieces presented here are his; bassist Street mostly operates as a supportive extension of the pianist’s left hand, for which the music is
none the worse. Hart has a wealth
of varied experience running from soul to fusion, but he also carries
with him the stadium jazz legacy inherited from some of his former bandleaders such as Miles Davis and Herbie Hancock.

The New Simplicity Trio (NST) says it took its name from the post-serial movement of late-1970s contemporary classical composers. If that suggests an academic even dry approach to the music, don’t be put off. In practice it means the London-based trio aims to distil their music down to its essential melodic and harmonic qualities.

The regeneration of the piano trio began around the turn of the century, but reputations often seemed to flower from factors bearing little relation to the fundamental virtues of the genre: for example, a preponderance of elements imported from rock, additional instruments or electronics. Nothing necessarily wrong with these, but it is refreshing to hear a trio like this, developing the tradition while staying within its broad constraints.

Jazz has done well to hold on to young singer Polly Gibbons. Her soulful voice and telegenic looks put her on a par with media-friendly middle-of-the-road stars like Joss Stone and Adele. But Gibbons has stayed true to her jazz roots and this, her third album, is another real treat for purists – not least because the singer is accompanied by a fiercely swinging, tightly arranged big band.

With so much 21st-century jazz to choose from, it’s refreshing when a disc turns up that harks back to the swinging sixties. In this case it’s the movie and TV music, plus other recordings, of pianist Dudley Moore.

If tenor sax player John Coltrane shaped generations of tenor sax players, the influence of his wife’s devotional music has also endured. It is still popular in today’s jazz scene.

As a pianist, Coltrane was rooted in modern jazz and joined her husband’s band when his abstract improvisation was shifting towards Eastern style chants and cycles. After he died in 1967 and she converted to Vedic Hinduism, Alice Coltrane Turiyasangitananda retreated, making music designed for meditation.

Having included guest musicians on some previous releases, this highly regarded Australian trio rings the changes again: new label, new bassist and the introduction of live electronic manipulation. The title references the fact that some of the tunes were devised specially for the recordings, while others had been extensively road-tested… that, and the fluid relationship between written material and improvisation.

Several years have elapsed since the first album from this interesting trio. Ballamy and Tabor already had pianist Huw Warren in common as a collaborator, so there’s plenty of intuitive cohesion present. Jazz-folk crossbreeding has been done well in the past in a variety of different ways by groups as diverse as Pentangle and Ken Hyder’s wonderful Talisker (which coincidentally also recorded for ECM), but here the focus is on traditional songs and a few well-chosen cover versions.

The Palmieri sound, a jazz-inflected take on Latin music, was first heard in New York in the early 1960s when Puerto Rican brothers Eddie and Charlie hit the scene. Nine Grammy awards and around 50 albums later, 80-year-old pianist Eddie is still serving up his own brand of salsa picante with a side order of modern jazz. Growing up

Clocking up just shy of 300 years on the planet, and not many fewer years of distinguished service to jazz, this quartet might be excused for resting on its collective laurels, which incorporate CVs encompassing spells with Miles Davis, Jackie McLean and McCoy Tyner, to name a tiny fraction. But they don’t. Their playing, full of vim, vigour and soupçons of vinegar, is replete with incisive improvisations realised as energetically as you might expect from musicians much their junior. Even the slow numbers ooze vitality. Their choice of repertoire can hardly be faulted either.

In the golden era of big bands, small groups of key players would sometimes get together to record familiar material outside the mothership. Phronesis, a trio whose reputation has grown over the last ten years on the back of six impressive studio albums and their dynamite live shows, has done it the other way around. In an inspired move they’ve hired Julian Argüelles to re-arrange material from their back catalogue for the Frankfurt Radio Big Band (FRBB), with the trio at its centre.

Despite being unfailingly modest in citing his influences and his presence in the jazz racks notwithstanding, guitarist Ralph Towner’s originality and genre-transcending approach remain unique; if posterity brings any justice he should also have a place alongside Henze and Brouwer as the inventor of a unique language for the guitar. His style is a synthesis of several idioms including classical, jazz and various indigenous traditions, although the latter are thoroughly transformed and condensed into allusive references that defy identification.

Kurt Rosenwinkel has been the go-to guitarist for jazz modernists ever since he came to notice with Paul Motian’s Electric Bebop Band in the early 1990s. Now, after a long spell teaching in Europe, he’s reinvented himself as leader, starting with Caipi.

On The Roc, tuba player/composer Herskedal continues to showcase more impressive music from Norway, partly influenced by Norwegian folk music but this time largely inspired by his travels in Syria, Lebanon and Palestine.

Norwegian-born bassist Eivind Opsvik, resident in New York for 20 years, began his shape-shifting Overseas album series in 2003. With its tight, nervy sound, this latest chapter is a contrast to the more epic IV. Its nine short tunes are heavily rhythmic and the atmosphere changes from jangling to jaunty at the drop of a hi-hat cymbal.

Guitarist John Abercrombie has been a mainstay of the ECM label catalogue for decades, with his distinctive approach, complex yet unfailingly euphonious, almost functioning as a signature for the label. That said, his abandonment of the plectrum in favour of plucking with the thumb, a technique used by some of the instrument’s finest exponents from Wes Montgomery to Jim Mullen, has had a subtle yet profound effect on both his sound and his articulation.

It’s been a while since we’ve reviewed a disc by Scottish trumpeter Colin Steele and that’s because he’s been recovering his technique after some bad advice damaged his ability to play, taking him out of action for some years. This new album is worth the wait. The line-up is less overtly celtic than predecessor Stramash – without fiddles and pipes – with a focus now on the core jazz quintet.

Italian cinema has an intriguing history, while the development of jazz in Italy is a direct reflection of a changing political and cultural environment in a period bracketed by the roots and aftermath of two world wars. The confluence of these two art forms during the late 1950s and early ’60s is demonstrated admirably on this enjoyable vinyl LP of thoroughly atmospheric music, running the gamut from cool intimacy to rumbustious big band arrangements.