The album graphics for Aaron Parks’ By All Means provide an immediate clue, as the typography evokes Jackie McLean’s 1965 Blue Note album It’s Time. Even McLean’s sentiment at the time mirrors Parks’ thinking for this record. When we last heard Parks on 2024’s Little Big III, he was purveying electric music that blended Radiohead, blues, electronica, and even krautrock, pushing the boundaries of jazz. By All Means reminds us that, at heart, Parks is also a serious jazz musician who loves swing and traditional conventions. This is not far removed from McLean’s response to writer Nat Hentoff in 1965 on his It’s Time.“I never want to go ‘outside’ for too long a time without coming back ‘inside’ again.” McLean had issued free jazz material before that release.
We have four players from four different generations communicating in a familiar jazz vocabulary as they render Parks’ originals. Parks has a longstanding rapport with bassist Ben Street and drummer Billy Hart, and one can hear their trio chemistry on the 2017 ECM Find the Way. Given that Parks issued two trio albums with Eric Harland and Matt Brewer in 2021, Parks could have easily chosen the trio route. Instead, he wanted his trio to support a soloist, to do more comping while realizing that Hart was a great supporter of horn players. Enter tenor saxophonist Ben Solomon, a mentee of the late Wallace Roney. Solomon is a devotee of John Coltrane, especially Trane’s late ‘50s sound, and is also influenced by Debussy and Ravel. Adding that fourth voice gives more dimension and harmonic colors to Parks’ compositions, which, in this setting, are warm, elegant, and centered in pure acoustic jazz. On the surface, the melodies are simple, but the compositions are harmonically rich.
Parks describes his opener, “A Way,” as a ‘sort of obliquely Elingtonian space ballad.’ The piano straddles minimalist and shimmering. Solomon’s playing is clearly Trane-like in its spiritual quality. The hallmark brushwork of Hart underpins it all. The slightly off-kilter “Parks Lope” is meant to mimic his uneven gait. It’s closer to hard bop, not as bluesy as the classic soul-jazz Blue Note albums of the ‘60s, but bearing some resemblance there, as well as to Monk and Herbie Nichols in the piano stylings. “Anywhere Together,” written by Parks in his mid-teens, also evokes mid-60s jazz, steering more toward Wayne Shorter’s post-bop writing. The piano break exemplifies the strong trio simpatico and gives room for a sly Street solo as well.
In yet a different approach, the gorgeous ballad “For Maria Jose” is a dedication to Parks’ wife. It’s beautifully written, and given Solomon’s predilection for Trane, it bears a similar sentiment to “Naima.” Parks digs deeper into balladry on “Dense Phantasy,” influenced by his frequent collaborator, saxophonist Dayna Stephens. It is enticingly gentle, Bill Evans-like in the piano and whisperingly so in Solomon’s lines. In a similar vein, “Little River” is a gorgeous lullaby for the couple’s oldest son. Solomon is sweetly lyrical in his loping lines, and Hart’s nuanced drumming shines through especially in the outro. The closer, “Raincoat, to these ears, is the most memorable of these outstanding ballads. Like the others, it is understated. Parks’ unhurried melody, accented by Hart’s cymbal swipes, is part spiritual and part mind wandering, as if headed to some otherworldly destination. Solomon’s playing has that softer edge, much like Charles Lloyd, while maintaining an undeniable presence throughout each track.
By All Means does not have the stunning, infectious impact of Little Big III but instead is simply a return to the music Parks loves. It’s comfy, balmy, and articulately rendered in every respect, ideal for late-night listening or those rare daydreaming mid-afternoon moments.
