And she is clearly a superb manipulator of sounds, as her much-praised debut CD (also on e-music) confirms. There are cello lines, orchestral settings and trumpet duos going on there which cannot be duplicated with a straight “jazz” quartet. But the writing displays what sounds to me like an acute musical intelligence in both settings. And it attracts fine people to her band, here the dream team of James Maddren on drums and Calum Gourlay on bass, with Lewis Wright on vibes. All played superbly, and the whole thing added up to the best evening I’ve heard at the Bear since Maddren and Gourlay were last there, with Kit Downes. The drummer sounded as if he’s spent a lot of time listening to Paul Motian this evening, emphasising the great quality he has of never being busier than he needs to be. Gourlay gave great, deep-toned support and played some fine solos, and Wright was phenomenal throughout. The whole thing was bound together by a programme of original compositions from the leader which were varied, cleverly wrought, and neatly arranged for the smaller group. Can’t wait to hear what she does next.

Knew I was going to enjoy this within seconds…   A thrice repeated note, varying the rhythm , playing alone against gently stirring drums before the band kicked in. Malcolm calls this piece Glimmer, and it showed how he works to good effect. He’s not afraid to expose himself, play slowly, and use simple means examined at leisure. There’s plenty of technique on hand but deployed sparingly, when he gets up steam during mostly motivic improvisation, and a nice furry trumpet tone putting down lines which catch the ear in a way that reminded me of Bobby Bradford, say. (I love Bobby Bradford).

Add the redoubtable Alexander Hawkins, last seen in these parts, I think,  in the Convergence Quartet with Taylor Ho Bynum,  and you have a great band, rounded out by Olie Brice on bass, often doing the main timekeeping, and Mark Whitlam keeping things loose on drums.

Most of the pieces were Malcolm’s including Mr Carr (for Ian carr, by the sound of it) and VE Day, unexpectedly wistful, with one each from the pianist and bassist. The self-penned material was complemented by a fine treatment of Andrew Hill’s dusk and a couple of Monk tunes, which saw Hawkins in particularly fine form. I often go on about how many astonishingly good keyboard players there are at the moment, but it keeps on being true. In fact, on the strength of this evening,  there’s a remarkable profusion of gifted young musicians in general. And, contrary to some earlier evenings noted here, they are not all intent on ploughing the Blue Note furrow down the middle. Ambitious and absorbing music – a great evening.

Other thoughts on a fine sextet? It was indeed standard fare – both in terms of Great American Songbook type standards (on Broadway, Here’s That Rainy Day, Come Rain or Come Shine) and fairly predictable selections from the Blue Note songbook. Funny how bands who dig into that era that hardly ever try Sam Rivers or Andrew Hill, whose roster of compositions would allow something a bit more unexpected to happen: Wayne Shorter is usually as far out as they go, though none of him tonight either.

They were nice arrangements throughout, though, courtesy of Hague, who contributes so much to the local scene through sheer insdustriousness as well as musical flair.

Horn players often seem to shine on tunes written by people who play the same instrument – maybe they pen tunes which lend themselves well to the particular timbre, I don’t know. Maybe the players are inspired by the thought of their illustrious predecessors. Anyhow, Ben Waghorn came through with an especially convincing solo on Blue Bossa (comp: Henderson) and Andy Hague on a modal Freddie Hubbard tune and again on Charles Tolliver’s Paper Man.  Alan Barnes was his excellent self all evening, relaxed in between numbers, completely committed whenever he played. A fine musician in his element here.

And the rhythm section made it all go with a snap, especially Jim Blomfield (a “be-bop hod carrier” according to Barnes for his backing of the others solos, and contibuting plenty of fleet solo work himself). Altogether another nice Hague project, and we got the benefit.

Mike Willox has been enlivening the Bristol scene for two or three years now with his blend of groovyness, brio and not very suppressed wackiness. He’s usually been chained to one those red Nord keyboards but tonight he was playing the club’s piano (increasingly clangy these days, but still a piano). So this band seems to be showing us a different side to Mike in a few ways. If there was a headline it might be ‘Willox in Bill Evans chops shock’. The extended intros, lush and frequently delicate  rendering of themes were all evocative of the legend’s sound and, my borrowed ears tell me, there were a few quotes for the erudite (or plain anoraky) to spot.

The band sound like an exciting prospect with the absolutely locked, breathing as one, totally in sympathy rhythm section of Scott Hammond on drums and Will Harris on bass and the reflective, supremely, melodic soloing of Jake McMurchie all complementing the lead of Mike on piano. The repertoire was mainly standards staring with Like Someone in Love , ending with a rollicking Caravan (you can’t keep a good groove down) with a sprinkling of originals and plenty of twists and arrangements to bring the familiar to life. Lets hope we see more of this outfit; perhaps a bit more assertiveness from Jake my reporter wondered, but maybe she’s just a Pee Wee junky.

We only stuck around for the first set – tired Friday – which was a shame as the audience was, er, not huge down at the Bear. But the long first set was so enjoyable we went home well content. Crozier-Cole, in particular, is a superb player and has joined a personal list of Brit guitarists it would be worth going out of one’s way to hear again. As he’s a local, that shouldn’t be too hard.

Can’t remember if I’d heard of Turville before, in fact. But here he was, with a cracking trio, first night of a brief tour, new CD on sale at the back – all that was lacking for a highly satisfactory evening’s music making was an audience, really. Or  most of it, anyway. A few more than a dozen people leaves wide open spaces even in the slightly dingy confines of the Be-Bop club.

A shame as he has a lot to offer – a style which draws on everyone you can think of (his list of influences on MySpace is the longest I’ve ever seen), a tight trio with excellent if slightly too tautly wound for my taste drummer (Ben Reynolds) and forceful bass playing (Chris Hill), and a thoughtfully probing solo style. “An approach to harmony and improvisation recalling John Taylor”, says John Fordham in the Guardian yesterday, and who am I to disagree, especially when Turville proffers a lovely version of Taylor’s Ambleside Days as his own tribute to the older player. His own compositions feature complex rhythmic patterns as starting points more than simply stated melodies, and can leave a set sounding as if it finishes up pretty much where it started. But there was plenty of interesting stuff along the way – and some striking variations in approach. Best of those were a Bill Evans style waltz in the first set and a brilliant, spine-tingling tango in memory of abducted persons in Argentina which was the highlight of the evening in the second. The music stands up well to repeated listening on the CD, too, though that tango’s not there. Hope they get to record another soon (this one is newly released but was made almost two years ago). Well worth catching – and in Cardiff on Tuesday at Dempsey’s if anyone is over that way.

This feat of mental repositioning was made a little harder by the quartet format – guitar, bass (Greg Cordez standing in at almost literally the last minute for Rian Vosloo) and drums. This points so directly to the Rollins/Jim Hall quartet, any one of whose records contains some of the greatest music ever made, that the comparison is inescapable.

But this was homage rather than emulation, and in its way pretty enjoyable. There were no unstoppable torrents of improvisation, no ballads deconstructed and rebuilt on the fly, no endless codas, not even that sardonic (early Sonny) or gritty (late Sonny) tone. Just a bunch of great tunes well played. We got Gobal Warming, Oleo, Alfie’s Theme, God Bless the Child, and St Thomas to finish. Some very absorbing soloing from Dave Archer on guitar, and perfectly respectable, if not particularly arresting, contributions from McMurchie himself.

He was obviously having a good time, and his enthusiasm was infectious. I couldn’t help suspecting, though, that he was also a trifle nervous, or perhaps inhibited by a sense of his own presumption. At any rate, the encore, a rousing Sonnymoon for Two, produced his most intense solo flight of the night, perhaps fuelled by the knowledge of an ambition fulfilled, or just having got away with donning the robes of a great man and not finding so much room in them that the outfit looked outright foolish! On its own terms, all good fun, but don’t expect a recording, or even a repeat performance, I think.

The Balance on the other hand whilst not actually playing oodles of ‘European jazz tunes’, have created a distinctive sound with guitar and piano led arrangements which brought an altogether different feel from Vyv. There were some great, gently grooving Ballads which evoked a rich melodic sound reminiscent of EST and Marcin Wasilewsky’s Trio and much ‘straight 8s’ feel jazzy progressions with lilting, slightly abstract melodic lines,often doubled between piano and guitar. I think this band should be heard more. There’s a slight sense of them getting used to the material as an ensemble; I’m looking forward to keeping track of where they go next.

The obvious comparisons are with the Jarrett and Mehldau piano trios – and Downes proves there is plenty of mileage in that song-based, free-ish, equal opportunity trio. The music is wonderfully detailed and interactive, with real flair on show from all three players, but all displayed co-operatively – a genuine feel of collective music-making with ego under control. On reflection, a feeling which was somehow missing, for me, from the Bad Plus show earlier in the week. And they gave a real lift to the Be-bop club, with its intent listeners who you can somehow sense appreciating how good all this is even when they make no visible sign. The perfect silence behind the featherweight brush gestures of the rather wonderful James Maddren on drums really brings home how good a musical space this is, for all that it is one of the most nondescript back room of a pub jazz clubs in the land. Cabot Circus is smarter, sure, but when the music is this compelling the surroundings disappear of course, and all dissolves into the creative flow. And flow it truly did. If this is the future of jazz, it is in good hands. Their CD is terrific, too. But I can’t wait to hear them again in person.

Mike Collins was also impressed.

Brown is no slouch, either, and demonstrated his nice tone and line on a standards only programme, mostly hard bop anthems from the mid-50s on. He saved his most involved and involving soloing for Brown’s Joyspring, a second set highlight along with Terraza’s roof-lifting solo feature. Would be great to hear him at length on a first class instrument.

After this pleasant if slightly predictable night it gets busier. I assume anyone looking at this will know the Future Inns club at Cabot gets going next week with Don Weller on Thursday, but they seem to have missed out on Venue’s listings so maybe worth mentioning -  we already have tickets for Martin Carthy and Dave Swarbrick that evening at St George’s, which is a shame. Haven’t heard Swarb for many years, but I’d dearly like to catch Weller as well. Damn. Then there’s more at Cabot the following night, competing now with the Be-Bop club, and the one day Festival at Colston Hall on the 20th with Abdullah Ibrahim…

The weekday evening gigs are sanity-savers at the moment, as days are spent entirely on screen revising a book. Looks like policy from now ’til Christmas will be to go to as many as possible.

Interesting choice of material, too, some by McMurchie, and pieces by Lee Morgan – an impressionistic one which I was convinced was by Coltgrane until they name-checked the composer – Monk, and John McLaughlin. That caught my ear. Never heard anyone try and play Extrapolation before, and it feels like one of those classic performances which is just about as good as it could be, forty years on. Still good to hear it revisited in a small room, though. Andy Hague isn’t Tony Oxley (and he long ago abandoned this kind of playing anyway), but all acquitted themselves well on what is, when you see it done, a pretty complicated bit of music.

That finished a long first set, which permitted an early departure in preparation for a drive across the country next day. But well worth turning out for, as these gigs down at the Bear usually are. Only a few left this season now…

It worked here for me most of the time, especially when Kevin Figes – who tended to make briefer contributions than trumpeter Nick Malcolm – stepped forward. Nice compositions from the band, especially bass player Olie (Ollie?) Brice and one each from Dolphy and Andrew Hill. To my ears, and I really love this kind of stuff, they didn’t quite have the command of the idiom of some of the Americans who work in this area – though I’d guess Brice listens to William Parker a lot – but still a nice way to spend a Friday evening. Maybe Bristol needs a Freebop club as well?

Oh, and you can find out more here www.myspace.com/thenickmalcolmquintet (you can change the name of your band, but not the URL of your My Space page, apparently)

In truth some of that interaction got lost with these instruments in the Bear’s slightly clouded acoustic, partly because the drummer – not the regular member – was a dynamic young man whose exuberance sometimes overwhelmed the other players. It comes across better on their CD (there’s another on the way). At least I hear it better that way than I did on the night, and it is gettting lots of repeat plays. Perhaps I was just having trouble listening after the ear-bashing of the previous evening. Perhaps I need a “repeat” button on gigs. Perhaps I’m just getting old… I will soon be that grumpy old man who just complains that everything is too loud. Come to think of it, I’ve been complaining about that for decades, so I’ll turn into that man just by staying the same.

This was still an excellent two sets’ worth, though – well up to the standard of their appearance down at the Bear last year. The two front people are both thoughtful, largely cliché free players – Franks especially is as good as any of the current crop of stand out guitarists, to my ears (Robson, Outram, Walker…). I hope they go on as a band as long as Partisans, another favourite sax/guitar led quartet, who they somewhat resemble.

The result was pretty enjoyable for the standard (again) two sets at the Bear – particularly the contributions from Jamil Sheriff and the excellent John Thorne on bass, playing barefoot for added, um, authenticity. Didn’t make me want to snatch one of the newly minted CDs off the table by the door, though. Went home and played some late Art Famer instead. Coleman definitely leans that way. If he plays this stuff as long as Farmer, he may even sound as good, but not quite there yet. Then again, you can’t get to hear Art live nowadays, alas…

They wear this lightly however. They’re not a afraid to strip the sound right back and have just a simple line on the from the piano, or an insistent clatter from the drums and not much else. Recalling the gig now,  I want to pair lots of  descriptions that don’t quite fit together: quirky/ lyrical; rythmycally off-centre/ flowing; fragementary/ melodic. All of them seemed to be true but to not quite do the music justice. Most of the themes are originals from Barry Green. Sometimes there’ll be a racing, repetitive figure which is a bit wonky, or there’s a driving pulse but a really broken up melodic line over it. Sometimes the little clusters of notes make me think of Monk, other times it Ornette Coleman with that loose limbed swing holding it all together. Then  there’s glorious fluent improvising from Barry or tenor player Mark Hanslip. Occasionally the whole band drops to a whisper, perhaps just piano and drums on a ballad. This is very assured, very jazzy (and I like!), contemporary playing -  top drawer stuff.

So with a rich and varied reportoire (albeit exclusively by the good Mr. Silver), some wicked arrangements (whether originated by leader Andy Hague or transcribed I don’t know – either way its down to him) and a band of Bristol’s finest, one can only sit back and enjoy. For the record; Andy on trumpet and flugel, Jim Blomfield on piano, Kevin Figes, alto; Jake McMurchie (for the evening) on tenor; Simon Gore drums and Roshan “Tosh” Wijetunge on bass. As you might expect, lots of tight latin grooves, quite a few pacey swinging numbers, and some quite funky stuff. There were lots of stand outs for me, but one has to be the sheer joyous, melodic improvising of Jake McMurchie, the other was watching Andy pull chart after chart out for the band to play – he really does know how to assemble a great musical feast – check out his website for other projects www.andyhague.co.uk

I was getting quite nostalgic. Its twenty years of the be-bop club in January and I realised I’d been visiting on and off for quite a bit of that time. When I first started going regularly in the early 90 s, I often used to see the owner of a now long defunct record shop there. On an almost weekly basis he would shake his head in disbelief and assert that you wouldn’t see better jazz anywhere in the world. “X (insert as appropriate) was as good as Sonny Rollins/ John Coltrane/… (insert or delete as appropriate)”. That’s a bit of a crazy claim, but sometimes I do shake my head in wonder at the quality of  the music we can see week by week locally. Fortunately on Friday, there were quite a few folk there who obviously thought so too – no micro gig this!