Sanborn Is Reliable, Old Self : Despite Desire to Reinvent His Style, Venerable Jazz Saxophonist Plays Standard, Solid Fare in Newport Beach

Alto saxophonist David Sanborn is a musical institution, likely the most visible jazzman of the last 25 years, thanks to appearances on “The Late Show With David Letterman,” an acclaimed but short-lived television series (“Nightmusic,” which is still seen in reruns on the BET cable channel), a widely syndicated radio program and stints with pop idols David Bowie, Stevie Wonder and others.

Sanborn also institutionalized a particular sound on the alto saxophone, a sound copied by so many other altoists (who probably admired its popular success as much as its tonal quality) that Sanborn once said in an interview that he was seeking to change it, so as to retain some identity of his own.

But little change was heard Friday at the Hyatt Newporter in Newport Beach, where he brought in a crack band to revisit his recorded history and explore tunes from a new album on Elektra, “Inside.” Sure, there were some apparent differences: The imperially slim saxophonist was looking even more, well, imperial and seemed to be sporting a shorter haircut. But the Sanborn sound and style were definitely intact, much to the delight of the 1,400 in attendance at the standing-room-only concert.

Sanborn has shown himself to be eminently adaptable, working with revered composer-arranger-keyboardist Gil Evans’ orchestra in the ‘70s and the Paul Butterfield Blues Band before that. He’s made serious jazz with such notables as bassist Charlie Haden, guitarist Bill Frisell and drummer Jack DeJohnette on the 1990 date “Another Hand” and he recorded Johnny Mandel-arranged ballads with full orchestra on his 1995 date “Pearls.” But Sanborn’s meat and potatoes since recording his first album in 1975 has been R&B-inspired; instrumental pop tunes and that’s what he concentrated on here.

Sanborn’s much-copied sound, part whine, part wail, was used to predictable effect over the 90-plus minute show. Genuinely adept at building dynamic interest, Sanborn built nearly all of his improvisations to a point of repeated squeals before handing off to other band members. On ballads, he utilized patience (something missing in his approach on upbeat numbers) as he paused here and there to create tension. His approach on these slow tunes, much like that of a blues guitarist, consisted of a series of penetrating cries.

Tunes from the new album (one composed by bassist and long-time Sanborn collaborator Marcus Miller) were indistinguishable from the old. Lively beats decorated with added percussion variations are still the order of the day.

At its best, Sanborn’s music is a blend of old and new. Here, the organ of longtime associate Ricky Peters made for R&B; authenticity, while the electric guitar of Hiram Bullock lent a contemporary edge. Sanborn played with particular aloof during the classic pop tune “Spooky,” an oft-performed live number that has served as a touchstone to his playing over the years.

Bullock, who was often seen performing barefoot in the Letterman band with Sanborn and is now a recording artist in his own right, brought an air of outrageousness to the performance, at one point standing above the band on a nearby equipment box as he soloed. Utilizing a variety of sounds, he buzzed up rich, creamy chords, heavy metal syrup and tinny old blues as called for. Bullock infrequently harmonized his play with his voice, a sort of belligerent George Benson.

Sanborn’s stature allows him to attract the best musicians, as this band demonstrated. Don Alias, a percussionist who has been heard with everyone from Miles Davis to Joni Mitchell, impressed with his variety of sounds, blending thumps from bomba box and congas with ethereal chimes and whistles. The bassist Tom Barney brought the necessary funk and touch required in Sanborn’s music, gearing into the powerful drumming of Sonny Emory, whose play was more slugfest than sweet science.

But something truly new from Sanborn? Maybe next time around.