Glib as it may sound, a marketing department may bill this as 1960s modernism àla Miles, Herbie, Evans et al, given a zestful new life by musicians who’ve also listened to the pop and art music that have since come into being. The crystalline chords and lush melodicism of the above are clear enough, but what permeates much of the material is the haunting lyricism of Brazilian vocal legend Milton Nascimento and stealthy shadow play of soundtrack culture. While the band has a sufficiently robust rhythm section to swing hard, as anybody who has seen drummer Justin Brown back Kenny Garrett will know, Stephens peaks as a leader-composer-player when he takes tempos right down and brings a subtle invention to the tonal landscape of the music. Particularly effective is the use of Gretchen Parlato as an additional member of the horn section and Stephens’ close harmonising with her slender yet steely wordless vocal, which lends the music a sombre, flickering grace. The epic deconstruction-reconstruction of Trane’s ‘Impressions’ goes further down that road. The numerous shifts between lento and presto time in addition to the large spaces that open up in the harmony – where the object is not to somersault through the changes but take up the implied counter-melodic opportunities – results in an arrangement that is grandiose rather than bombastic. Perhaps a few of the tracks are slightly overwritten – a charge that can be leveled at more than one exponent of contemporary jazz – but for both concept and execution, Stephens deserves boon not barb.