Deschanel Gordon's piano has an audible, ambient glint as he introduces ‘Dear KD’. When William Cleasby's drums add a quiet gathering storm, and the rhythm section stroll just behind Mark Kavuma's horn, this becomes the jazz Art Blakey imagined blowing the dust off of everyday life. Kavuma's second album documents a group refined during Brixton's weekly Floor Rippers residency, and once again shows how Trinity Laban courses have engrained hard bop in London's new generation. Kavuma's association with Wynton Marsalis suggests ‘young lions’ as the collective noun. His peers' subtle, sometimes superficial interweaving of grime and energy surges learned from post-rave clubland, are foresworn. Gaurab Thakali's distinctive sleeve art suggests the contemporary culture built around this bop reverence. Kavuma sits out a couple of tracks, leaving his stately ballad ‘The Songbird’ to slow-mo sax and gospel Hammond, and the shapeliness of his tunes, like the title-track's fast-running groove, and the vibes' gently dancing flight on ‘Big Willie’, all suggest an advance on his debut. If his youthful absorption by the past seems strange, and his need to find a forward path clear, this is at least music made with love, and the conviction that it's his.