For whatever reason, many folks dismiss jazz as a yesteryear music form. Perhaps, due to the stereotypes ingrained by mainstream pop culture, they associate it with the black-and-white kinescope recordings of ancient television programs or, to bring things closer to home, the dusty LPs they came across while cleaning out their late grandparents’ houses. Even some jazz fans think along those lines, with their collections focused wholly on the long ago; ask for jazz LP recommendations on social media and, odds are, every artist mentioned will be dead. Yet, as I’ve shown via numerous reviews this year, jazz remains vital and current. There are a slew of innovative artists making Technicolor wonders on aural canvases. British jazz guitarist Jamie Leeming is one.
Leeming first made a name for himself during the 2010s with Alfa Mist before stepping out on his own in 2020 with Flow, a well-received collaboration with Maria Chiara Argirò, and then again in 2022, when he released his sterling solo debut, Resynthesis. Perhaps because of that resume, Sequent—his sophomore set—sidesteps the jitters typical of second albums; it’s an old-school jazz fusion album that sounds fresh and new.
Co-produced with Alfa Mist, the sessions utilized vintage production techniques to match the sounds Leeming heard in his head; i.e., it’s an all-analogue endeavor. It’s also not a guitar-first enterprise, though there are definitely moments—such as during “Shakkei”—when Leeming’s frets and stringed concerns do indeed take flight; rather, the tracks are primarily impressionistic pieces that feature such players as Alfa Mist (keys), Laura Misch (vocals, alto sax), Sly5thAve (flute, clarinet, tenor sax, bass clarinet), Richard Spaven (drums), and Kaya Thomas-Dyke (vocals).
Misch and Thomas-Dyke both wrote the lyrics to the songs they sing, while Thomas-Dyke also created the album’s way-cool cover art. The other tracks are instrumentals—and decidedly cinematic. On “Late One,” a collaboration with Sly5thAve, one can easily imagine a vintage roadster snaking its way through London’s cluttered streets ‘round about midnight, the street lights seemingly shimmering in the ever-present mist. The car eventually pulls to a stop along a pier that overlooks the sea; the driver departs, and ambles to the balustrade, taking in the view. Much like the tide, the music rises due to the moon’s gravitational pull; which is to say, regardless of what one may be doing—reading, writing, what have you—the tunes push their way to the foreground.
A good example is the expansive “Mantra (Reprise),” which features Joe Downard on double bass, Jas Kayser on drums, Alfa Mist on keys, Quinn Oulton on tenor sax, and Rūta Sīpola on flute. The number essentially starts mid-storm, with the rough seas gradually giving way to a semblance of peace. It’s worth the price of admission alone.
The Old Grey Cat 
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