It’s been noted by wiser men than I that for some artists, a Rollins or a Mingus, the gap between the doing and being of music simply dissolves. John Scofield has reached this stage, as perfectly exemplified by this solo album.

Over the decades the man has done it all, jazzed it, jam banded it, rocked it, and always with the blues beneath it all. And here he has distilled his decades in this crazy business into a baker’s dozen of songs that may appear modest in ambition – only one track runs to more than five minutes, several run to barely three - yet is mighty in impact.

To start at the end (for those who still play CDs sequentially), the closing ‘You Win Again’, may hint at Frisell in its oh so slow lope through Hank Williams’ classic tale. But almost without noticing, Scofield bends and yaws the melody, as though the gentle creek may burst its banks. Yet the levee holds, just. It contrasts superbly with Sco’s own ‘Trance de Jour’ which precedes it, a splendidly neurotic post bop chase that runs and dashes to all quarters. Yet there are also ballads to break your heart; ‘My Old Flame’, with nary a note of nostalgia, folds together loss and affection. Intimately recorded, we feel like we are looking over Sco’s shoulder, creating a mood not unlike Jarrett’s The Melody at Night with You. This album needed no other title. This is John Scofield.