Label: Pyroclastic Records, 2022

Personnel - Tony Malaby: tenor and soprano saxophone; Ben Monder: guitar; Michael Formanek: double bass; Tom Rainey: drums.

Inspired by the turnpike sessions he did in New Jersey with musician friends, the American saxophonist and composer Tony Malaby reassembles the estimable, powerhouse quartet Sabino, which marked an early phase in his career. The bassist Michael Formanek and the drummer Tom Rainey are kept in their original positions, while the guitarist Ben Monder replaces Marc Ducret.

The highly creative spirit of these musicians transpires on “Corinthian Leather”, a loose reading of Dizzy Gillespie’s “Woody'n You”, where a riff serves as a point of departure for an exciting journey of exploration and interplay. At the outset, Malaby and Formanek play very close to each other, having Monder on the loose. The resourceful guitarist makes an interesting bridge between the frontline and the rhythm section, whether opting for single-note texture or harmony work to better consolidate the substructure. It might feel unorthodox sometimes, but you can definitely feel the swinging pulse flowing at the bottom. The concluding theme statement shows guitar and tenor following identical melodic paths.

The enigmatic “Recrudescence” is a collective improvisation that revels in seemingly static waves of kaleidoscopic guitar harmony, timbral tenor fascination, independent bass slides, and understated cymbal sparks. This calm scenario suddenly picks up steam via the beefy intonation of the saxophone, the eerie guitar sounds shadowing the texture, and a skittering bass-drum activity that densifies and propels. The piece ends with the earthy, wooden phrasing of Formanek.

The brooding, guitar-centric “Scratch the Horse” finds a middle ground between black metal and modern creative jazz. Malaby’s throaty and monolithic vociferation on tenor paints the space in expressive midrange without ever losing any melodic notion or the tasteful sense of phrasing that characterizes his playing. He’s no less extraordinary on “Insect Ward”, where he takes the soprano to unstoppable acrobatics. Surrounding and underpinning his actions are Formanek’s arco incisions and Rainey’s thoroughly selective percussion.

The 18-minute title track. “The Cave of Winds”, starts off like a happy chant outlined by folk soprano melodies. Along its meandering course, the piece acquires an expressionistic quality whose energy is later abated with temperate dark moments. If the ensemble moves in a relatively obscure setting here, then wait for the closer, “Just Me, Just Me”, a contrafact of the late-twenties classic “Just You, Just Me” that brings a glimmer of hope in both the unisons and polyphonies created by Malaby and Monder. They are imperative in their movements and majestic in their sounds, forming a rainbow of vast angularities.

There’s nothing dated in Malaby’s The Cave of Winds. It’s all fresh, bold and adventurous... decidedly not for conservative jazz listeners.