Riley Mulherkar is in pursuit of a feeling

Riley Mulherkar grew up in Seattle, the Pacific Northwest enclave that has been home to so many musical innovators over the years. He went to Garfield High School, a school that has fostered countless talents going all the way back to Quincy Jones who was himself a young trumpet player at the school in the 1940s. Riley was just eight years-old when he began seeing the legendary Garfield High School big band play free gigs in his Seattle neighborhood; it's one of the reasons he picked up the trumpet. He was clearly meant to play the instrument.

By the time he got to Juilliard in New York, Riley had shown up on the radar of Wynton Marsalis, who became a mentor. If this story sounds familiar, it's because it resembles the experience of so many musicians of his generation who have similar origin stories.

On a deeper level, it's a story that echoes through the history of jazz—young musicians who are compelled to move to New York after only a small handful of interactions with their heroes.

Riley Mulherkar is very much a man of his moment, and also mindful of those echoes from the past. His new album—his first under his own name and called, simply, Riley is awash in the echoes of history but also boldly embraces contemporary sounds and textures, it reframes classic material that was influential to him and positions his original compositions in that continuum.

The album was a long time in the making. It's the result of years of experimentation and reflection, and that patience is palpable in the music. Above all, the feeling of the record is totally compelling. And feeling was at the heart of the project all along. He says he was not interested in making something that sounded like an old record, but rather that felt the way he feels when he listens to his heroes, something he describes as "hyperrealism."

We spoke earlier this year about how the Riley album came together—he worked closely with pianist Chris Pattishall and guitarist/producer Rafiq Bhatia—his diverse career as a collaborator, music presenter, composer, and now solo artist, and how thinking of jazz as a family tree helped him to find his place in the music.