JAZZ REVIEW : The Manhattan Transfer Still Rides the High Road

Is there anything the Manhattan Transfer can’t do?

Clean windows, maybe, but not much else. Some 25 years after the vocal quartet came into existence, it is better than ever, seemingly capable of singing everything from doo-wop to the most complicated jazz vocalese to (one suspects) the Manhattan phone book.

The Transfer was in rare form at the Greek Theatre on Saturday, clearly enjoying every minute of its nearly two-hour set and repeatedly bringing a capacity crowd to its feet. With no need for self-serving calls to “put your hands together,” the delighted audience clapped, danced, sang and had a marvelous time with a brilliantly entertaining evening of captivating music.

The dual turbos--jazz and rhythm & blues--that have energized the Transfer over the years were on full display.

The enormous subtlety with which they handled the complex harmonizations of Coleman Hawkins’ classic solo on “Body and Soul” and the propulsive rhythmic drive they dispensed to the Count Basie Band’s “Corner Pocket” and “Bleep Blop Blues” inevitably underscored their identity as a jazz group first and foremost.

But when they dived into a group of R&B; tunes from their current album “Tonin’ ” (including choreography humorously described by member Janis Siegel as “an ersatz Apollo Theatre kind of thing, modified for white people”), there was no denying their equal skill in this arena as well.

Each singer had a moment to shine: Tim Hauser began his hipster version of “Killer Joe” with a perfectly characterized Lord Buckley rap; Alan Paul performed “Gloria” with a knee-to-the-floor presentation and a gloriously nasal vocal delivery; Cheryl Bentyne sang atmospheric lead trumpet lines on the Basie numbers, then shifted dramatically to a rich contralto for “Charleston Alley,” and Siegel, a superb jazz vocalist in her own right, brought instant swing to every phrase she touched.

Pop eccentric Leon Redbone opened the concert with his retro-style music from the ‘20s and ‘30s, accompanied by a five-piece Dixieland band. A short dose of Redbone’s odd mixture of yelps, shouts and treacly baritone vocalizing goes a long way, and it was difficult to fathom his choice as opening act for an otherwise splendid program of music.