As a jazz guitarist with leanings toward Pat Metheny’s song-rooted openness, Kurt Rosenwinkel has long been a discreetly creative presence in other people’s music, as well as a creative leader of fine bands. But he’s long nurtured an urge towards more vocals-oriented music, that could include his rather fervent reflections on the human condition. It was hinted at on 2003’s Verve release Heartcore, on which he sang and played most of the parts, and revisited on Caipi, on which he sings and plays many instruments, and which includes some telling vignettes from Eric Clapton and the classy tenor saxophonist Mark Turner.
Rosenwinkel’s rich frameworks for Eliane Elias’s singer daughter Amanda Brecker sometimes suggest that an intriguing, Metheny-and-hip-hop-inflected update of classic samba jazz hides in the wings, and the leader is typically fluent and narratively elegant whenever he cuts loose on guitar. But improv takes a back seat to some prosaic autobiographical songs, cleverly produced and harmonised ensemble pieces that are nonetheless a little short on melodic punch, and a dinner-jazzy vibe that undercuts the project’s undoubtedly sincere objectives.
