JAZZ REVIEW : QUARTET TOOTS THELONIOUS’ HORN

Revealing an authenticity that might have pleased its namesake, Thelonious--a quartet co-led by reed artist Marty Krystall and bassist Buell Neidlinger--played both familiar and arcane tunes written by Thelonious Monk with vim and vigor during its second set Friday at the Palace Court.

The leaders, who have been musical partners in various local bands for more than 10 years, approach Monk’s music provocatively. In the past, they have been advocates of loosely structured jazz improvisation that still has an emphasis on swinging. Here they render the material in a more traditional manner but with vivid character, stating the themes precisely and retaining that all-important swing element. Krystall, often a wild, hell-bent soloist, is much more down to earth in this context.

“Little Rootie Tootie” was typical of the exciting proceedings, as Krystall, playing tenor saxophone without a microphone, sent forth snarling, brilliant-toned phrases that hewed closely to the melody. These lines, which had an attractive bluesiness to them, often squealed through the stratosphere, then suddenly swooped to horn bottom.

Neidlinger, pianist Jerry Peters and drummer William Jeffrey offered succinct backing while Krystall cooked. The tune’s trademark three-note tag came forth as a multi-note burst from the tenor-man.

The melancholy ballad “Round Midnight” was begun unaccompanied by Neidlinger, whose ripe, ringing notes were played with a lovely, fat sound. After a short while, he was joined by Krystall on bass clarinet, who alternated between madness and serenity, delivering thick, foggy tones, lightning-quick lines and buzzing moans and shrieks that sounded like three players instead of one.

A spirited Jeffrey solo led to the nursery rhyme-ish “Jackie-Ing,” where the drummer maintained a crisp march beat that supported Krystall on alto, who offset his solo lines with colorful, spinning trills. Here Peters, who was also unmiked, played a solo that looked interesting but was all but inaudible.

Another ballad, began with Peters galavanting splendidly, disguising the theme inside parallel octave runs, hard-hit chords and splashy, impressionistic phrases. When Krystall arrived, he played the melody with smeared, Johnny Hodges-like statements.

The twisting, leaping “Skippy” and the charging, energized “Thelonious” were also heard.

Thelonious is an important band, for it is giving Monk’s rich, singular oeuvre the continued exposure it deserves. And the quartet’s deft mixing of mainstream and free elements adds just the right flavor of the unexpected to keep listeners involved and wanting to hear more.