JAZZ REVIEW : Bill Watrous: Letting the Gimmicks Slide : Trombonist, who mines the melodic side of a song, doesn’t allow technique to get in the way of expression.

There are a lot of huff-and puff trombonists currently on the scene, guys who blow and bluster within a small range, using the slide for effect as much as possible. Bill Watrous isn’t one of them.

Instead, Watrous mines the melodic side of a song with his instrument. Sunday afternoon at Maxwell’s with keyboardist Frankie Randall’s trio, he fairly sang through his first set of standards in an assured performance delivered with a trumpeter’s directness. Though it was the kind of familiar fare that one has learned to expect from Randall and company, Watrous brought life to the proceedings with long, lyrical lines and fleet, to-the-point runs in tones burnished with the same golden hue as his trombone.

Watrous, a veteran of Kai Winding’s various trombone aggregations, the Kenton band and a host of studio dates as well as several albums of his own, doesn’t let a prodigious technique get in the way of expression. His rich tone, backed only by Randall’s piano echo, shone during a melancholy intro to “Stardust.”

Though the amplification didn’t always do him justice, especially during more dynamic moments, Watrous dug into the lower range of the slide on Hoagy Carmichael’s classic, ending long-sustained notes with a caressing vibrato while displaying some wind in the process. Never at a want for breath, he blew equally long, twisting runs during an up-tempo Rodgers and Hart’s “Mountain Greenery,” an excursion that climbed into the upper reaches from deep, resonant beginnings.

Nor did the trombonist entirely ignore the playful potential of his slide. He hit notes on the head before breaking into a warble. Notes suddenly slid up an octave, a coloring effect that’s much like adding steamed milk to a shot of espresso. As Randall sang “Just in Time,” Watrous provided honey-coating backing a third lower than the pianist’s voice.

Randall took a lush, pensive solo during “Call Me Irresponsible,” bringing a winning warmth to the piece’s mea culpa lyric. His singing, done with only a hint of piano-lounge flair, is appropriate to the room, bringing a bit of fun, if not polish, to the music. Added depth came from a synthesizer on which he soloed, at one point, in trombone-like tones, another with a Les Paul-inspired guitar sound.

Bassist Jim DeJulio reconfirmed our rave of his work here in November with trumpeter Joe Davis. The bassist provided plush, accurately pitched support as well as inventive improvisations replete with ringing double-stops and slippery jumps over the range of his upright. His strong, persistent walk often provided variation on the Watrous’ statement it backed.

The tunes were pushed along by drummer Frank Capp, a sizzling swinger who often bounced across his snare while riding the cymbals. Capp took a few bars during “Route 66” to whip up a Gene Krupa-inspired storm on his tom-tom that he cut with hits to his hi-hat.

Randall’s between-tune patter, especially his introduction to a pair of Jimmy Van Heusen tunes, was appropriately nostalgic for those familiar with this kind of material, educational for those who are just discovering standards through the work of such musicians as Harry Connick Jr. and Natalie Cole. A small quibble: Randall, who is here with DeJulio every Thursday through Saturday as well as his Sunday gigs providing support for guest soloists, repeated a number of the tunes he played a couple weeks back with trumpeter Davis. With as wide a songbook as the pianist-singer must have, here’s hoping that he doesn’t let some of this well-known material wear out its welcome.