May, Versatile Studio Guitarist, Takes Spotlight

They’re the unsung heroes of the music world, the so-called studio musicians who can shift genres, chameleon-like, fulfilling any musical requirement with ease and flair. Like the dancers in Broadway musicals, they have spent years mastering their craft, only to spend most of their time playing supportive backup roles.

Saturday night at Spazio in Sherman Oaks, guitarist Tim May, who has played for everyone from Frank Sinatra and Lionel Richie to Celine Dion and Arturo Sandoval, took advantage of the opportunity to step into the spotlight, leading his own quartet. As it turned out, May’s most significant accomplishment for the evening was the inclusion of several other versatile musical artists in his group--trumpeter-fluegelhornist Warren Luening, bassist Dave Carpenter and drummer Bob Zimmitti. Although the selections--mostly chosen spontaneously or played on the spot from written music--were generally familiar items, Luening and Carpenter, in particular, are always worth hearing.

Sticking with the darker-toned fluegelhorn for most of the numbers, Luening was especially impressive in an up-tempo romp through “I’ll Remember April.” Spinning out breathtakingly long lines, searching for--and almost always finding--appealing melodic content in his improvisations, his laid-back but inventive playing was one of the high points of the set.

Carpenter, a versatile player who seems as content with lyrical balladry as he is with hard-driving funk and edgy envelope-stretching music, provided a number of equally splendid musical moments. On “Old Man’s Bass,” he took advantage of May’s funk-based line to launch into a solo balancing swing, virtuosity and invention. Despite the program’s high points, however, the synchronization between May, Zimmitti and Carpenter often slipped apart, not exactly what one might expect from players accustomed to every imaginable musical setting. May’s single string solo lines were surprisingly awkward sounding, occasionally slipping away almost completely from the rhythmic time of Zimmitti and Carpenter.

Fortunately, his work on an untitled ballad was far superior, as was the solid backing he provided on “All the Things You Are.” These caveats aside, it was a distinct pleasure to hear and see gifted background players.