Dan Rosenboom




The monumentalism at work here seems to predate our current little lives. Often trumpeter Dan Rosenboom thinks in mass and density as much as linear ideas; in towers and crenellated walls of granite sound. So even when the music’s lithe and boppish, it still arrives with a heft and weight to flatten small animals – a patch Rosenboom’s been mining for a while. Imagine jazz and rock falling into the same chasm, but with what you hear echoing back at you not being what’s called jazz-rock in any hackneyed sense.

Jazz’s flexibility is not lost in the least: it’s just that massive sonic structures from the more apocalyptic end of rock loom up, yet somehow never overwhelm the conversational improvising. Rosenboom’s scorching trumpet is joined by an epic cast here, centred around Jeff Babko’s keyboards and Gavin Templeton’s saxophones, with three different drummers and bassists (including Vinnie Colaiuta and Jimmy Johnson) offering variations in groove and texture above and beyond what Rosenboom builds into his pieces. Even those usually suspicious of fusion should try this brilliantly produced album on for size.