Chris Hodgkins Trio with Alison Rayner And Max Brittain

All too often, jazz lovers are confused by musicians who do more than one thing, and trumpet players seem to come in for more than their share of the problem. In Britain, for example, is Ian Carr a trumpeter or an (equally brilliant) author? Across the waters, the same question applies to Richard M. Sudhalter. The problem seems to be dropping such gifted polymaths into one creative box and labelling it accordingly. And it may be that the same confusion applies to the fine trumpeter whose first album you have here.

For the last two decades or so, Chris Hodgkins has spent the majority of his time elevating the causes of British jazz as the director of Jazz Services Ltd, the powerful national organization which has done most to cement the image of jazz in Britain as something more than a poor artistic relation. As one of Chris's closest colleagues (and admirers) however, I know that he has never allowed his professional duties to make off with his trumpet. He practises daily, regularly examines brass-science with qualified experts such as his good friend Henry Lowther, and consequently - whenever he unleashes his vintage Selmer B-flat - puts the walls of whichever Jericho he's assailing at the sort of risks which threaten to raise the insurance premiums.

This is his first solo album and I've been looking forward to hearing it, impressed with the forward- planning that Chris put into the project and (perhaps above all) intrigued with the setting in which he's chosen to present himself: in short, a trio (admittedly, one of the best you could assemble in Britain!). But for a trumpeter in such surroundings, as I know very well, there's nowhere to hide. And the cold inquisitive ambience of a recording studio, to deaden whatever enthusiasm you approached the project with in the first place, is no help either.

How amazing then that, for Chris, this album is an unqualified triumph. Apart from the creative quality of the improvised music you'll find here, he's planned its settings with a master's degree. A stylistic of compositions from connoisseur standards to contemporary delights; neat, sweet originals and arrangements by all three participants; regular use of all the tonal opportunities including mutes, which as Chris's good friend Kathy Stobart once observed "will always let the trumpet win"; cosmetic details such as the use of four and eight-bar conversations between players alongside extended outings.

All these clever devices and more keep the listener, well, listening. Plus the most important element of brevity, the soul of wit; much of the greatest classic jazz was created at seventy-eight RPM - those old three-minute jazz universities which committed their creators to making their point without playing round the houses. And to my delight (and I hope yours too) this album celebrates that old philosophy: 'Keep it short and make it happen'.

Chris's trumpet playing? It's an intriguing but entirely convincing meld of stylistic influences in which you can regularly spot echoes of Miles, Sweets, Clark, Chet, Cootie, Roy, Louis, Ruby and our very own (and very dear) Humphrey Lyttelton, another principal role-model. Amid this stylistic quilt however, Chris is basically a fine trumpet-player listen to the technical control which allows him to play a melody 'straight'; to his unwavering long notes; to his control in the trumpet's demanding lower register. Plus, he doesn't showcase to cover up faults; his musical statements, like his conversation (a frequent parallel with jazz musicians), make their point and stop. The result is an album worth detailed attention.

Max Brittain has long been one of our most under-rated and gifted guitarists (as well, on the strength of this set, composer-arrangers). And Alison Rayner - with her big warm acoustic sound, faultless time, tuning and taste and creative solo ability clearly belongs in the front rank of contemporary bassists. There are too many tracks here to commentate one by one, but I loved Rayner's quirky Queer Bird as much as the floating beauty of both her Vejer de la Frontera and Henry Lowther's Bijou Drinkette. There could be no British musician more worthy of celebration than Eddie Harvey, and the trio triumphs, both with Eddie's catchy and tightly-arranged original Goodbye Kerry Goodbye and arrangements of Stalking by Thad Jones, and Duke's Mainstem which (amplified by Chris's fine Cootie-Esque choruses) recalls the days and nights of Duke with uncanny skill. Brittain's For Jim (a tribute to Jim Hall) has the same unhurried grace as its inspiration and Busted Back Blues has one dramatic device in it - I won't spoil the surprise! - which should have you momentarily heading for the CD player. And to finish with, Diane McLoughlin's Tommy's Song, Harry Beckett's Delightful Pace, and that marvellous and underplayed chef d'œuvre of Saul Chaplin and Sammy Cahn: You're a Lucky Guy. Aren't we all Chris? To that last major seventh, a job exceedingly well done!

Digby Fairweather April 2005