Cole and Phelps Combine at Full Throttle in Simpatico Contrast of Styles

Xhosa Cole is a man who can’t be hurried. Winning the BBC Young Jazz Musician of the Year might pressure some ambitious players into premature studio projects, but two years after the event Cole is here, still unrecorded, still engaged in exploring the tradition via this latest chordless quartet iteration. The easy-going warmth of his unassuming Midlands persona is offset by an extremely sharp-tailored suit, and his fellow frontman Jay Phelps is equally nattily attired. Opener 'The Moontrane' shows how well suited they are sonically as well as sartorially: matching each other’s breathing in spontaneous counterpoint, with Phelps' mercurial high-register in thrilling contrast to Cole’s dark-toned melodic explorations. Bass-and-drum team James Owston and Jim Bashford keep the energy at full throttle. There’s an interlude of free-blowing duet between the leaders that segues seamlessly into Gigi Gryce’s 'Salute To The Bandbox', then Richard Roger’s ‘Manhattan’ is taken at a mid-tempo lope that features Xhosa at his most Rollins-like, all hoarse-toned, quirkily melodic in his assertiveness, while Phelps delivers a perfectly conceived and executed statement going from hip minimalism to furious Freddie Hubbard flurries and back. Given the line-up, a nod to Ornette is perhaps inevitable, and 'Ramblin'' gets a super high energy revision, the two horns engaged in a frantic dialogue over bass thrum and cascading drums before bringing it down to the hushed closing phrases, delivered as one unified voice.

Xhosa and Phelps get a ballad feature each, contrasting Phelps' poise, superbly polished accuracy and encylopaedic compendium of trumpet history with Xhosa’s gruffly lyrical directness that opens out into a bravura extended free coda. The exploration digs deeper in the second set: there’s a nod to the history of UK’s immigrant jazz community with a Dizzy calypso, and an impressive original by Owston that has the gravitas of a late-1960s Shorter Blue Note in its heavy swing before developing into some adventurous free-blowing. Owston has an impressive precision and power: Bashford is more usually heard in a free context, but swings hard and brings an additional level of fearless commitment to proceedings. 'Scrapple From The Apple' is a furious four-way conversation as everyone takes turns leading: the communication and commitment between the band reach breathtaking new levels, and the sell-out crowd bay for more.

In contrast to the laden intensity of his blowing, Xhosa’s announcements have been all relaxed, infused with a sunny affability throughout. Introducing 'When You Wish Upon A Star' as an encore, he suddenly changes the mood: “What would you wish on a star for? We don’t always like to be seen to help people when we can, but where I live the levels of homelessness are getting worse than I’ve ever seen. Times are only going to get tougher for those at the bottom, and the interpersonal thing is going to be ever more important. What can we do to help each other?” The band tear into the tune, pulling at the limits of the form. Then they die away, leaving Xhosa holding a single high-note. In a gesture full of meaning, he allows the note to swell and waver as both hands paw helplessly at the saxophone, as though seeking to articulate something beyond the music. This band have something quite special going on: try and see them if you can.