| Jazz |
Sometimes it is healthy, salutary, even, to pause in the present moment and return to jazz in one of its most classical, most unadorned forms. To listen to Pete Mills is to reencounter a language that feels timeless, and yet alive. His most recent work carries a cinematic grace that immediately recalls Henry Mancini, a world of carefully sculpted melody buoyed by the supple warmth of a Hammond B3 organ.
The atmosphere is deliberate, the textures chosen with a sense of continuity, as if the 1960s themselves had been invited into the studio. It is not mere imitation but a living dialogue with the past, a careful balancing act in which each member of the group contributes original material, proving the kind of cohesion only possible when musicians share more than a session, they share a purpose. The compositions themselves may lean toward the traditional, but it is the interpretations, the phrasing, the weight given to silence and swing, that elevate the whole.
For listeners who, like myself, often find comfort in jazz of this variety, the appeal here lies in its lack of pretense. This is music that does not try to dazzle by excess or overwhelm by concept; rather, it seduces by balance, craft, and sincerity. Mills’s tenor sound, full and persuasive, gives the quartet a clear identity, one rooted in tradition yet open enough to let each musician shine. His background is well-documented: born in Toronto, celebrated across North America for his “virtuosic,” “magnificent,” and “versatile” playing. David Franklin of JazzTimes has called his tenor “punchy,” while the Columbus Dispatch praised his compositions as “impressive, with solos that open the ears… and a sound broad and rich.” The catalog that precedes this album is itself a map of artistic consistency: For the Record (2025) with his B3 Quartet joins earlier statements such as Sweet Shadow (Cellar Live Records, alongside Matt Wilson, Pete McCann, Martin Wind, and Erik Augis), Fresh Spin (★★★½, DownBeat), Art and Architecture (★★★★, AllMusic Guide), and his much-noted debut, Momentum (COJAZZ Records).
What is striking about a quartet of this configuration, the tenor saxophone set against organ, guitar, and drums, is its precarious balance. Such a formation, sparse and exposed, can falter if not sustained by musicians of the highest caliber. And yet here, on every track, the ensemble performs as though the risks were opportunities. They summon the cultural memory of an era and let it reverberate in the present. The arrangements are crafted to breathe, to allow swing to feel natural, and to carry the listener into a space both nostalgic and freshly alive. At times the music is irresistibly danceable, the kind one imagines filling not only intimate clubs but also festival stages where audiences are drawn to rhythm as much as to craft. There are even passing shades of early Miles Davis, flickers of bebop intention that surface briefly before folding seamlessly back into the group’s distinctive identity.
The album is rich with references, but never in a way that feels self-conscious. Mills and his collaborators are scholars of the form, but more importantly, they are practitioners who keep this language supple. Their playing is steeped in tradition yet never weighed down by it. The sequencing of the record itself suggests a journey, a sense of progression from piece to piece, reminding us that jazz, even when leaning on its most classical idioms, can still move forward. This is, perhaps, one of the most fascinating qualities of jazz today: its capacity to allow multiple strands of style to coexist, to survive, and even to flourish under the pressure of ever-higher standards of execution.
In a newsroom such as ours, where new albums arrive daily and competition for attention is fierce, a release like Pete Mills’s cannot go unnoticed. Each track offers a point of entry, a moment to pause, but for me the most captivating is “Z is for Zadie.” Its melodic grace is undeniable, and it requires a stubborn heart indeed not to be taken in by its lyricism. There is, too, the packaging: a cover design steeped in 1960s aesthetic, aligning perfectly with the sonic world inside, and reminding us that nostalgia, when rendered with sincerity, can itself be a form of artistry.
Listening to this record in depth, one comes away not simply entertained but quietly moved. It is a reminder of how the past can be made present without irony, of how jazz at its most classic can still feel vital in 2025. Mills and his quartet offer us not only music to admire but also music in which to take refuge, a sound world that swings, breathes, and lingers, long after the final track has ended.
Thierry De Clemensat
Member at Jazz Journalists Association
USA correspondent for Paris-Move and ABS magazine
Editor in chief – Bayou Blue Radio, Bayou Blue News
PARIS-MOVE, September 15th 2025
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Musicians:
Pete Mills, tenor saxophone
John Eshelman, Hammon B3 organ
Tom Davis, electric guitar
Zach Compston, drums
Track Listing:
For The Record
The Kid
Bird Lives
Kenny, Ken
Z is for Zadie
Jammy Git
The Visitor
Snap On It
Baby Simon