Russell Malone returns, in part to honor Wes Montgomery centennial

Though there have been frequent mentions here of the 100th anniversary of Wes Montgomery's birth, a

Russell Malone turns 60 in November.

fellow guitarist's return to town after seven years recalled for me a guitar summit in honor of the Indianapolis guitarist in 2016.

Russell Malone then helped celebrate Montgomery (1923-1968) at IUPUI in performance and a panel discussion. His encore engagement here put him in the spotlight at the Jazz Kitchen in the front line of the Indianapolis Jazz Collective. The occasion was one of the more intimate components of the current Indy Jazz Fest.

The compatibility of the band jelled quickly in the second set, in which the guest star seemed increasingly to be enjoying himself, going comfortably beyond the 90-minute norm. His sidemen were pianist Steve Allee, tenor saxophonist Rob Dixon, drummer Kenny Phelps, and (brought in from New York) bassist George DeLancey. 

When Malone dialed his instrument up to an electric blues jam at the end, it seemed a good time to leave. I preferred the band's more appropriate performances of two Montgomery classics, "Four on Six" and "West Coast Blues," as the set's twin peaks. 

Russell Malone takes in a Rob Dixon solo at the Jazz Kitchen.

The set hit its groove immediately with a Montgomery blues original, "Fried Pies." Malone's style centered on scrumptious chords and floating octaves, and his solo was flecked with a quote from "Teach Me Tonight." 

The pianist lost no time to hit his stride in his solo. And in the second tune, "Yesterdays," Allee displayed his knack for ramping up the swing content of a ballad, even while not abandoning the original's lyrical flow. Dixon's solo, by contrast, was strutting, assertive, and carried professorial authority (a reminder of his new liaison with Northwestern University). 

The bassist, unknown in this area, introduced himself in fine fashion with his imaginative solo, sporting a thick, centered tone that never compromised his nimbleness. Malone laid out his lyrical credentials; his recorded output shows a consistent affinity for melody, which shone throughout the Wednesday performance. 

In spoken remarks, Malone praised Montgomery's receptivity to pop material as an appropriate vehicle for his artistry. This was not an example of "selling out," the bandleader reminded the audience. Fair enough, but I couldn't help noticing that it was difficult for Malone to sound inspired during the band's romp through "Tequila," which was the least distinguished outing of the night. For the guitarist, it was all about maximizing the groove and being content with chains of firmly struck chords. Still, Allee managed to make something captivating about the piece, and Phelps' Latin-percussion effects were tasteful and idiomatic.

I was swept away by everyone in the band on "Days of Wine and Roses." It was a performance approaching the definitive among instrumental versions of the song. The bassist Malone brought with him should be singled out: the clarity of line and expressive weight that DeLancey put into his solo had memorable charm.

Then came the summit of the tribute with "Four on Six" and "West Coast Blues." The band sounded thoroughly sympathetic to the latter piece's churning waltz meter. In between the two Montgomery classics was the evergreen "Polka Dots and Moonbeams," in which the guest star made every phrase glow purposefully. True, Malone's rubato introduction strayed so far into "When a Man Loves a Woman" that I wondered: Is it really time for a Percy Sledge tribute? No, fortunately. The whole set reflected honor upon Wes, a formidable maestro of lyricism, as illuminated by one of our era's most adroit inheritors of the Montgomery legacy. 

[band photo by Rob Ambrose]