While previous albums by the Jamie Saft, Steve Swallow, Bobby Previte trio have tended to fall a little under the radar they’ve nevertheless contained enough moments of collective and individual brilliance to suggest they are fast becoming one of the most fruitful collaborations in jazz. The New Standard (2014) and Loneliness Road (2017) both cantered around the piano trio, but with You Don’t Know Life, Saft moves to the Hammond B3 with equally absorbing results. While the previous two albums relied largely on originals, Bill Evans’ ‘Re: Person I Know’ (performed on electric harpsichord), ‘Alfie’ and ‘Moonlight in Vermont’ are here thrown into the mix, along with originals such as ‘The Cloak’ and ‘Stable Manifold’ that give their take on classic Hammond B3 soul jazz groovers. As in previous albums, they also create originals based on the ‘time, no changes’ principal of spontaneous invention that can be as absorbing as any pre-written formal structures. If you’ve not caught up with this band yet, now’s the time to get started. Jazzwise spoke to Steve Swallow about the album

Your collaboration with Jamie Saft and Bobby Previte has become an under-the-radar success story. The one element that jumps out of your albums is the empathy shared by the trio

There’s no substitute for living and playing together with your fellow improvisers. Ideally, there’s no line between on and off the bandstand – it’s all music. Jamie, Bobby and I hang well together and we’ve developed an easy conviviality. Good improvisers know to bring this to the bandstand.

The Hammond B3 always seems to have more bite with bass guitar than pedals, does this demand a different approach?

Jamie’s the most flamboyant, over the top organist I’ve ever played with, which paradoxically calls for the most grounded playing I can manage. This is a role I love to play. He’s also a thorough student of jazz organ, and so am I. So we’re working with a common vocabulary, I’m working to become his feet, to play what he’d play down there, if he weren’t so busy with all the stuff he’s playing above.

There are loads of organ trio records, yet as a trio you succeed in saying something different. Did you talk about how you’d all approach this music, or was it something that simply emerged from ‘doing’?

I think Jamie learned from Paul Bley, with whom he studied at New England Conservatory, not to talk directly and specifically about the music you’re going to play, and I absorbed this lesson from Paul as well. But the corollary to that stern injunction is that whatever you say, whatever it may be about, relates to the music you’re going to play. So I try to stay attentive to any oblique suggestions I might infer from Jamie’s light banter about good coffee, difficulties parking, world peace, whatever.

Jamie Saft’s playing often leaves spaces, so there must be a temptation to overplay, but your playing has such refined restraint. If you were talking to students about your approach here, what would you say to them?

My role in the trio’s performances mirrors my place in our daily interchange. Bobby and Jamie are loquacious – Bobby’s a story teller, and I hear that strongly in his playing. Jamie’s often exploring new possibilities, and using language as a tool in this endeavour. Now and then there’s air, and that’s when I’ll jump in. What they’re doing is often complex and ornate, so it seems what’s appropriate from me is a succinct interjection. I think our personalities, and therefore our roles in music, are remarkably well balanced – we each get to do what we like to do, what we do best.