Bill Frisell covers typically wide expanse, some with young colleague Ambrose Akinmusire

 Bill Frisell  has had decades to confirm his status as an old soul with new wrinkles. The wrinkles are

Bill Frisell put his signature on two bands here

authentic marks of curiosity and achievement. In recorded repertoire, the range goes from Aaron Copland to Madonna. The electronic extensions have involved widening the jazz atmosphere, finding in overlays of sound and electronically triggered loops ways of not confining himself to what everyone associates with the label "jazz guitarist."

The unconventional 72-year-old virtuoso appeared at the Palladium Saturday night with two bands, his own FIVE (a quintet including two each on acoustic bass and percussion) and trumpeter Ambrose Akinmusire's trio Owl Song. 

Akinmusire's band distributed solo opportunities generously among the three. It was bracing to get in touch with percussionist Herlin Riley since his early days with Wynton Marsalis. His virtuosity in this appearance was astonishing;  combinations of sound throughout the kit had vigor and subtlety alike. Hands, brushes, sticks, and mallets — all tools were applied to drums and cymbals. An unaccompanied cadenza on tambourine sounded definitive. Moistened fingertips occasionally vocalized the drum heads, characterizing an effective fadeout on Owl Song's second piece. 

Herlin Riley was a tambourine wizard at the Palladium. 

Frisell launched accompaniment patterns now and then for the trumpeter. As with his own band, he laid down figures that became looped behind solo elaborations in real time. Akinmusire exhibited a readily identifiable sound, favoring great leaps of register, a tone that varied between scrambled eggs and sunny side up. His fingers were constantly busy on the valves, and his embouchure control gave his articulation an almost ensemble breadth — kind of like his colleagues' wide horizons on their respective instruments.

The last of the four pieces Owl Song offered Saturday spent a long time in what jazzmen call rubato — ruminations free of any regular tempo. That permitted a smooth transition into a hymnlike section, with the texture thickening, thanks to Akinmusire's persistent trilling, and an ensemble crescendo. It amounted to a definitive statement of purpose for this new intergenerational band.

As for FIVE, the ensemble balance was reasonably effective, helped in part by percussionist Kenny Wollesen's often stepping away from the kit to ply his trade on vibraphone. Of the two basses, perhaps because of where I was sitting, Tony Scherr was much less discernible than Thomas Morgan. Rudy Royston, the second drummer, lent reliable pulse and understated variety to the group. Frisell has coming up a European trio tour in November with Morgan and Royston; there were signs that particular grouping was being readied even in this quintet outing.

Frisell's absorption of many ways of making music had some styles favored Saturday night. I heard quite a bit of his affinity for country music, though typically he doesn't settle into any one groove for long. 

It's not a stretch to see that a climactic set of variations on one Burt Bacharach song had a topical purpose. The song was "What the World Needs Now Is Love," and some of FIVE's treatment became aggressive and almost angry, though the gentle waltz plea summed up by the title triumphed in the end. Who can blame this old soul in these times for emphasizing such a message? Amen, brother! 

[Photo of Herlin Riley by Mark Sheldon]