Luther Allison: I Owe It All To You

Radiating an exhilarating, last-set-of-the-night ambiance, I Owe It All To You, Luther Allison's debut recording as a leader, places a premium on momentum, spontaneity and high spirits. An assertive, hard-swinging player residing in the modern, straight-ahead jazz piano tradition, Allison utilizes a bassist and drummer capable of holding down the fort and enriching anything he throws at them. Boris Kozlov and Zach Adleman deftly respond to Allison's changes in emphasis, dynamics and texture. To their credit, they never get in the way or attempt to compete with him. The result is music that sounds fleet and mercurial and, despite recognizable stylistic components, consistently evolves in ways that defy expectations.

The program includes four of Allison's captivating compositions and songs by four Memphis, Tennessee piano masters, Richard Rogers and Stevie Wonder, all of which work effectively by themselves and serve as ideal launch pads for the trio's expeditions. Harold Mabern's "There But For The Grace Of..." sounds hearty, tuneful and plain-spoken, filled with brief eruptions of notes girded by one of the themes. Nothing feels settled or pat about Allison's meaty and soulful "The Things We Used To Say" or the genial permutations of "I Owe It All To You."

Allison's improvisational prowess is sufficiently exciting to engage a casual listener's attention and contains enough intriguing details, form and surprises to please an aficionado. During "Lu's Blues," for example, chords struck in the lower end of the keyboard intermittently growl, complain and humph. Throughout most of his solos, long, incisive single-note runs stick around long enough to establish continuity and create expectations for more of the same before they are abandoned—or evolve—in favor of chordal combinations of varying length and intensity. (Conversely, chords often inspire an eruption of single-note lines.) Various blues and soul inflections and phrases—the record's not-so-secret ingredient—are also essential in making his improvisations cohere. The singles and chords juxtapositions do not feel contrived or necessarily even sequential; instead, it is a thrill to hear Allison fly by the seat of his pants, take risks and, somehow, make it all work.

Allison's audacious arrangement of "I Didn't Know What Time It Was" simultaneously dissects and honors Richard Rogers's song from 1939 in an electrifying journey of less than six minutes. Incorporating solo piano and the trio, he injects the tune with funk and swing gradations tied together by a repetitive, thunderous line executed with both hands that, somehow, manages to avoid overwhelming the track's more reflective moments. Allison's aversion to playing things safe is apparent throughout, particularly during a portion of the solo in which a stubborn chordal interlude goes down a rabbit hole, only to emerge as if nothing unusual happened.

The proof that Luther Allison is the genuine article lies in the ten tracks of I Owe It All To You. His career as a recording artist is off to a flying start.