Dave Stryker: Groove Street

This is a throwback recording, but in a very good way. Time was someone could get in a car on a weekend morning, roll the window down, turn the FM up and drive to a happy place. It really did not matter much where: the music got you there because it was just that kind of straight ahead, in your face, bliss is it to be young sort of thing. In a big city such as Philadelphia a jazz station like WRTI-FM may have been entertaining more than a few adjacent cars. Pretty soon, the music, your mood, the passing scene and an occasional station break were all that was required for a good time. This is precisely the kind of recording Dave Stryker's trio has made with Bob Mintzer. Good music, good musicians, good groove: what more can someone ask? The rest comes naturally.

A drive kind of vibe music, no more and no less. Stryker's guitar lines are tasteful and hard swinging, but never jarring. McClenty Hunter keeps things moving, almost effortlessly, starting with "Groove Street," a flat-out shuffle that includes a fluid and fluent organ solo by Jared Gold. Gold puts a listener in mind of every funky organist ever heard. "Soulstice" is another tune that Gold keeps rocking out as he accompanies Stryker. Bob Mintzer really deserves the accolades he inevitably gets, and the whole band closes the track with a nice exclamation point. "Cold Duck Time" merits its iconic status, and since 1969, has been recorded by any number of great players including Poncho Sanchez. Stryker's version of "The More I See You," if not the hippest version available, well, then what is? Gold and Mintzer again steal the show.

This is precisely the kind of finger-popping, rocking, bluesy, funky jazz that probably got so many younger listeners steeped in Motown and Northern Soul hooked on jazz in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Firmly in the soul jazz tradition, and so enjoyable as well. Too bad that more musicians do not take careful note of what is happening here. Attracting an audience would be far less of a worry. No experimental weirdness required because joy is included. What is there not to like?