Howard Riley: The Monk and Ellington Sessions

To older British jazz fans, pianist Howard Riley's identity probably belongs with the improv scene of the late 1960s that spawned Evan Parker, Derek Bailey and Barry Guy. But Riley's powerful technique and profound knowledge of both classical and jazz music kept him fascinated by traditions, and less inclined to the purist improviser's scorched-earth policy. This double album brings together two Riley sessions first released separately in the 1990s, covering 38 tautly-interpreted classics by Thelonious Monk and Duke Ellington, and in the unegotistical, but technically commanding way he explores them, Riley makes plain he's interested in those two giants as piano originals as much as composers. The music is delivered pretty authentically (Monk's boogie antecedents surface a lot), though some pieces do release Riley's storming improv forces – such as on a thundering Friday the 13th, and accounts of Ellington's It Don't Mean a Thing and Sophisticated Lady (the latter particularly haunting). Riley's quirky timing might be a bit too personal for some traditionalists, and he doesn't quite have the driving beat of that other Monk fan, Stan Tracey. However, an indestructible theme such as Ba-lue Bolivar is as insinuatingly bluesy as any Monk diehard could wish, and Skippy as eccentrically playful.