In the same month that this set was recorded at New York's legendary Village Vanguard, West Coast resident Gerald Clayton – the four-time Grammy-nominated pianist, composer, and acclaimed offspring of LA composer/bassist John Clayton – was talking to the San Francisco Classical Voice. If I am going to use the word jazz,” Clayton said to reporter Lily O'Brien, “it means freedom. You have the freedom to do whatever you want with it, but there's still a lot of structure and a lot of study that goes into just being able to speak the language”. A week later, Clayton was in New York showing exactly what he meant with this powerful two-sax quintet, on a venture designed to represent his most familiar activity until lockdowns happened – playing live. Altoist Logan Richardson's imploringly Coltranesque free-lyricism and tenorist Walter Smith Ill's grippingly elliptical expressiveness make ideal foils for each other, and Joe Sanders and Marcus Gilmore coax and shadow them everywhere.

The swaying eight-note motif of ‘Patience, Patients’, with its dolorous tenor commentary from Smith, soon exhibits Clayton's lightly dancing piano touch and economical, rhythm-rooted phrasing. ‘A Light’ turns solo piano weaves and feints into a marionettish folk-dance, Bud Powell's ‘Celia’ is a bop-swing tour de force, and a thoughtful ‘Body and Soul’ and a jerkily hurtling ‘Take the Coltrane’ further confirm Clayton as a respectfully independent interpreter. The pianist has sometimes been criticised for being ‘seductively hip’ at playing more or less what you expect – this fine live set certainly confirms the hipness, but a captivating capacity to veer on and off the beaten track as well.