Little Big II: Dreams of a Mechanical Man

Album review

Jazz history romanticizes the 1950s and '60s as a time when bands – as distinct from ad-hoc assemblages of hired sidemen – were everywhere, evolving distinct conceptual ideas over months (years!) of performances and recording. Bands still exist, of course, but given economic realities, they're a more exotic species on the 21st century landscape. And they don't always last long enough for consequential year-to-year development, the furthering of an initial vision, to take root.

Which makes keyboardist Aaron Parks' quartet Little Big a minor miracle. The band surfaced in 2018 in New York with a book of tunes defined by a simple, declarative lyricism; its first album, issued late in the year, emphasized crisp polyrhythmic grooves and crystalline textures over the frothy gyrations of fusion.

Then the group, which features tone-obsessed guitarist Greg Tuohey, hit the road, where it had to balance the subtleties of the compositions against the demands of a "show." The results of that calibration are evident on the invitingly spacious second effort Dreams of a Mechanical Man. As before, the writing revolves around earnest, easily-sung themes, like the loose, slippery riff "Here." Now, though, new atmospheres – and often, new compositional ideas – appear along the way, rising up between solo statements. Parks uses these secondary themes as threads, gently connecting strands of melody to dazzling eruptions ("Friendo") or contemplative suite-like constructs ("The Shadow & The Self").

Parks' music has a spiraling intricacy, but his band never calls attention to that: Its cool-handed authority masks the internal-combustion complexities, throwing light on the beauty of the writing and the subsequent beauties they encountered while exploring. Only a band could do that. © Tom Moon/Qobuz