Stretch

4-STARS It is no Stretch to note that Ben Patterson is a superb jazz trombonist or that his latest recording paints an impressive picture of his talents as a composer and arranger as well as a player and leader of a world-class quintet.

Patterson, a former music director of the U.S. Air Force's flagship big band, The Airmen of Note, gave retirement no more than a passing glance before getting back to the business of working musician and assembling a group of friends and colleagues from the Washington, D.C. area to record 10 of his persuasive original compositions. Rounding out the quintet are guitarist Shawn Purcell, pianist Harry Appelman, bassist Miles Brown and drummer Todd Harrison .

Pattterson's music is thematic insofar as he writes with specific people, places or concepts in mind; the themes become more or less irrelevant, however, once the group launches into what is essentially a brisk narrative of post-bop, funk and fusion centered around Patterson's bold and at times unpredictable charts. One trait that is clear from the outset is the group's propensity to swing, and swing hard, as it does on the well-named opening number, "Unbridled," written, Patterson avers, for a setting on his car "that makes it feel like a rocket."

The group rockets from that theme to the only slightly less busy "Oops, Wrong Timeline," a salute to the "crazy times" in which we live, and the derision-drenched "Ship of Fools," whose title was set in place, Patterson writes, "when the Supreme Court issued its disastrous presidential immunity decision in Trump v. the United States." Whichever way one feels about that, it must be conceded that Patterson does not mince words when describing his compositional impetus. The lithe and groovy "David and Francis" is next up, followed by "This Is What I'm Doing," in which Patterson tries to answer in shapely musical terms any and all questions about his "retirement."

"Or Maybe You Would" is another straight-on swinger, "Confidence and Doubt" a lyrical glance into both sides of a coin. The album's groovy title song swings as hard and as often as any item on the menu, setting the stage for the more easygoing "Missing Michael" (for the late Michael Brecker) and high-powered closing number, "Phrenetic" (as in "agitated mental state...subject to strong or violent sallies of imagination or excitement..."), which pretty well sums up that number's pace and demeanor.

The quintet works extremely well as a unit, and solos are earnest and resourceful. Appelman adds variety by dividing his time between piano, organ, Fender Rhodes and "keyboards," one of which sounds much like an EWI. Patterson, meanwhile, keeps a steady hand on the reins, showing peers and listeners alike that retirement in these days of increased longevity need not be confined to a couch or rocking chair but can be a blast if one spends the time and energy needed to make dreams come true.