Dave Wilson: When Even Goes East

There is a long and respected tradition in jazz of taking familiar popular songs and reimagining them in new ways. It involves uncovering fresh rhythmic vitality, harmonic subtleties, and emotional depth within melodies that listeners think they already know. Multi-instrumentalist Dave Wilson follows this tradition with conviction on When Even Goes East, an album that blends four original pieces with inventive reworkings of pop songs from the 1960s and 70s. The result is a collection that feels both reflective and adventurous, driven by a rhythm section featuring pianist Jesse Green, bassist Evan Gregor, drummer Daniel Gonzalez, and, on five tracks, guest percussionist Lenny Castro. These musicians know how to support a bandleader while still shaping the music.

The album begins with a Wilson original, "Let's Go," an avant-garde burner that immediately establishes the group's tone. Green's piano lines dart and clash with Wilson's saxophone phrases, creating a dialogue full of tension and release. The rhythm section drives the track with lively energy. Jackson Browne's "These Days" features a tightly arranged samba groove, with Wilson on soprano sax, and the chart preserves the song's melancholy. Green's interjections emphasize both melody and texture equally. Gregor, Gonzales, and Castro prove to be reliable timekeepers, balancing restraint with swing.

The Grateful Dead's Jerry Garcia composed "Eyes Of The World," where Wilson's arrangement maintains its familiar melodic outline but introduces subtle harmonic shifts and smooth improvisation. Instead of dismantling the song, he respects its craftsmanship and allows the jazz treatment to develop naturally. Green stands out here, with his cascading and expansive runs. The title track "When Even Goes East" nods to Wilson's days driving a cab in New York City. The piece begins as a hypnotic one-chord vamp, giving Wilson space to stretch melodically before a sharply etched riff emerges as a recurring interlude. The structure is deceptively simple, yet the band uses it as a springboard for evolving interplay, particularly between Gregor's resonant bass and Gonzalez' rhythmic shifts.

Lennon and McCartney's "Fool on the Hill" drifts by in a dreamy, contemplative mood. Wilson on soprano sax allows the melody to breathe before gently embellishing it. In turn, Green offers a luminous interjection with richer shades of complexity. The band approaches the piece with admirable patience, maintaining its slightly detached, reflective spirit.

A highlight is Jimmy Webb's "Wichita Lineman," which Wilson regards as one of the great American popular songs, performed with reflective grace and emotional depth. His phrasing is patient and deeply human, allowing each note to convey the song's sense of distance and longing. Green contributes a lyrical solo, shaping the tune with restraint and tenderness.

This is a thoughtfully-composed release that views jazz tradition not as mere preservation but as a living language that can absorb almost anything and reinvent it.