David Gibson: Fellowship

When you strip away the most obvious elements that contribute to the creation of a magical experience in this music, the one that remains is fellowship. Camaraderie between bandmates elevates a sonic endeavor like nothing else can, heightening everything for both performers and listeners, and that's a fact that's never been lost on David Gibson. The noted trombonist has long espoused the importance of musical family—something that began to resonate on an even deeper level during the pandemic—and that high level of devotion is at the very heart of this enthralling outing.

Gibson's first leader date in eight years, and his debut on pianist Orrin Evans' Imani imprint, finds him within a tight-knit quartet that plays for keeps on a series of originals. Right from the start, where these men lean toward universal anxiety together on the (mostly) odd-metered "Disquietude," it's clear that this is a real brotherhood bound by passion and sympathies. And as one track moves to the next, Gibson, pianist Davis Whitfield, bassist Joseph Lepore and drummer Kush Abadey make an unshakeable case about the powers in personal connection. "Beyond Breath," with four acting as one, demonstrates how best to bind spirituality, swing and sunshine; "Meek's Wrath," using a bounding 6/8 as the basis of discovery, demonstrates a mighty malleability built through trust; and "Discursiveness" sounds aloud as a bit of a magical misnomer, offering a friend-formed hipness of the highest order without any self-referential disconnection or rambling.

As that initial run of four pieces leads to another, fire returns to the fore with "Chief Distortion," a vehicle that reminds us about Gibson's sinewy soloing gifts, Whitfield's white hot intensity, and Abadey's crisp crackling. It's a side-two starter that stands in fine contrast to the resolute reflection of "Persist," the follow- up where Lepore's thoughts act as both core and backbone. The profoundly-titled, Latin-girded "Waiting for Patience" offers yet another change in tack as it fits neatly into the penultimate slot. And Gibson's clear dedication to variety holds firm right to the end, where the pacific title track carries the ears across the finish line. While so much of what we encounter today teaches us to ignore what's promised, Fellowship is that rare album that lives up to its name. It's another win for one of jazz's great trombonists and truth- tellers.