Alan Barnes/David New- ton: "Below Zero" (Concord) In a brilliant recording by outstanding talents, Barnes, a virtuoso who seems to be able to play every reed instrument ever devised, confines himself to the baritone on this late 1997 recording and, in the process, firmly nails down a front-rank position on it. And Newton? A gifted pianist, both as a soloist and an extraordinarily sensitive accompanist. Together they enjoy a rare communion of inspiration, beautifully backed by an inspirational drummer, Steve Brown, and a matching bassist, Matt Miles. The material is chosen and played with a rare sense of freshness by the quartet; there's not a loose performance anywhere. Well as the others play, though, this is really Barnes's album; his lyricism, expressively malleable tone, clean articulation and fund of ideas are marks of a great player.

Andy Panayi: "Blown Away" (Jazz House) On this excellent 1996 recording Panayi leads a quartet featuring the great trombonist, Mark Nightingale, alongside Simon Woolf (bass) and Mark Taylor (drums); with Panayi using baritone and Nightingale valve trombone occasionally, there are echoes of the old Mulligan-Brookmeyer quartet, especially as some items - As Catch Can, Festive Minor, Cherry and Love Me Or Leave Me - have similar associations. In fact, technically, Panayi is as good as Mulligan and Nightingale superior to Brookmeyer. They also use tenor and slide trombone, have a contemporary perspective on the music and a sense of discovery to what they do. Moreover, the way they use the changes is different, as is their time; both are more flexible than those of the quartet they superficially resemble, so this is in no sense the flattery of imitation. It adds up to an impressively lively group which, in Nightingale, is blessed with a worldclass player.

Humphrey Lyttelton: "The Parlophones Vols 1&2" (Calligraph) Humphrey Lyttelton's first band epitomised the main virtues of the trad revival in Britain - passion, commitment, drive and, in this case, skill. Lyttelton's solid trumpet lead, Wally Fawkes's fine, Bechet-style clarinet, and the Christie brothers - Ian on clarinet, Keith on tailgate trombone - made an idiomatically disciplined ensemble whose sheer joie de vivre bursts out of these long unavailable tracks from the early 1950s. True, the rhythm sections thump along unambiguously, but that front line is gloriously to the New Orleans point, as were Humph, Fawkes and Ian Christie as soloists. It's also possible to hear, even this early, the leader's enquiring, musically open revisionism. Crescent City revivalism doesn't get much better, or more honest, than this. Enjoy.