Pete Mills: This Is Now

Let us imagine asking a sociologist whether something like musical FOMO, fear of missing out, exists. Pete Mills makes a convincing case that it does with This Is Now. Even though we have the recorded evidence, there is a lingering sense that something special happened in the room, something listeners can hear but not fully share. The result is a kind of envy: Mills and his band are clearly having a great time, and their camaraderie radiates across all twelve tracks.

Mills reunites a working group that has developed its chemistry over more than two decades: guitarist Pete McCann, bassist Martin Wind and drummer Matt Wilson. To this already tight-knit unit, he adds pianist Kenny Banks, Jr., whose presence feels less like an addition and more like a natural extension of the band. From the opening title track, Banks Jr. slips easily into the ensemble, offering both subtle support and a fluid, expressive solo voice.

The session has the easy, unforced feel of a late-night hang, musicians relaxed, attentive and fully at home. While it might sound like a standards date, all but one of the compositions are Mills originals, each one tailored to highlight a different facet of the group's personality. Mills leans into a groove-heavy blues sensibility on "Exit Strategy," his bar-walking tenor locking in with McCann's edgy, responsive guitar. McCann proves a stylistic chameleon on "Boubar," weaving in echoes of The Beatles, Stevie Ray Vaughan and Jimi Hendrix, before switching to acoustic guitar for the Caribbean lilt of "Sunset STX."

Bassist Martin Wind serves as the session's anchor and quiet guide. On the chordless "Window Shopping," his bass becomes the central narrative voice, setting the tone with a relaxed saunter before delivering a lyrical solo. Mills tips his hat to Horace Silver on "Sliver of Silver," capturing that unmistakable, groove-forward swagger, while "Don't Stomp on My Dream," a reimagining of "You Stepped Out of a Dream," channels the easy swing and cool confidence of the late 1950s.

The album's intimacy is further revealed in two standout duos. Mills and Banks Jr. delight in the playful "Bird Lives," pairing quasi-stride piano with nimble, bebop-inflected saxophone lines. Equally compelling is the saxophone-and-drums reading of Billy Strayhorn's "U.M.M.G.," where Wilson's brushwork provides a graceful, understated foundation for Mills's melodic clarity.

In the end, This Is Now feels less like a formal recording and more like an open invitation to listen in on a group of musicians who trust each other completely and relish the act of making music together. That sense of shared joy is what fuels the listener's FOMO, but it is also what makes the album so rewarding. You may not have been in the room, but the warmth, wit and connection captured here bring you as close as a recording can.