Brad Mehldau Trio @ Cheltenham Town Hall May 4

Brad Mehldau (piano); Felix Moseholm (bass); Jorge Rossy (drums).

To the Town Hall in Cheltenham for what should have been the high point of this year’s Cheltenham Jazz Festival. The man is a legend and a grunt free shoe-in to inherit Keith Jarrett’s crown. His trio included long-time associate, Rossy, and, a new name to me, Felix Moseholm. Five minutes into the set and the crowd was mesmerised by the length of Moseholm’s fingers and asking if he had been bred in a lab just to play stand up jazz bass. If that were the case it had worked!

One of our pre-concert concerns was derived from Mehldau’s recent fondness for the classical canon, shown by his albums of works by Bach and Faure. Thankfully, we were served a menu of jazz instead.

They opened with the coolly swinging August Ending with Rosssy’s frantic brush work and spare bass punctuation from Moseholm. It took off after Rossy reached for the sticks. Mehldau seems to caress or gently stroke the keys creating a lot with little energy. The trad infused Monk-ish Blue Impulse followed with an angular solo of Monk-ish chords and single note runs. A Walk in the Park opened with spare minimalist piano, more busy brush work and the bassist’s singing merry lines behind.

Brad seems to twist himself round as he plays, as if he’s trying to stop the big boys looking over his shoulder and copying what he’s doing. This contortionism is emphasised by the fact that he is sat with his back to the audience when he is playing. (He turns round occasionally to talk us). Embers, one of the highlights of the set follows. It’s a noir-ish waltz, melancholic with lots of space. Rossy is busy again at the drums. Mehldau constructs a solo from short phrases, leading into a longer extended, swinging section.

After the Evans-ish Boomer with its loping rhythm comes a John Coltrane tune, Satellites. It’s open and pastoral, like American classical music; a dance of partners calling and responding it even includes a brief snatch of a square dance. Rossy’s solo is built of rockets and explosions, marches and pistol shots, whilst Mehldau builds a solo of carnival-esque moments and short runs.

The pace drops for a lightly stepping Secret Love which combines a lazy romance with a lush optimism. Mehldau’s playing combines the tune’s title amongst various excursions, hinting at it moving away, mentioning it again in passing. A master craftsman at work. Encore, the ghostly House on the Hill, is again open and pastoral, reflective and elegant over Rossy’s ticking cymbal.

For much of the set Moseholm seems to have been the rock at the centre whilst Mehldau explores and Rossy alternately attacks, teases and tickles. The familiarity of the cover versions allows us to really hear the craft and gives us a much deeper understanding of what is written and what is improvised. For such a big name in the jazz world, Mehldau could still do with improving his stagecraft and maybe play fewer gigs with his back to the audience. Good gig, though. Dave Sayer