In jazz, it's customary for band lineups to change frequently, if not constantly. On the plus side, that ensures spontaneity. On the downside, jazz as a rule rarely provides a platform for the same group of musicians to spend extended periods of time working together. The whole notion of group chemistry has a very different definition in jazz than it does in genres like rock. That said, jazz history is peppered with the occasional group that is still remembered for being just that, a group. John Coltrane's classic quartet and Miles Davis' famous quintets are among the most memorable examples.

Whether or not local drummer Sean Jefferson and the extraordinary musicians he assembled for his RIJF appearance will ever play together with the same line-up, last night they very well could have been one of the greatest groups in jazz. For their first appearance at the Montage, the quartet (billed as a quintet because of a pre-planned guest sit-in from Paradigm Shift leader Melvin Henderson), the group focused primarily on compositions from Jefferson's upcoming album, "Dream Works."

The band excelled in too many ways to get across in a small space, but here goes: Jefferson's epic compositions have the sprawl of classical music but demand hard-driving groove and hairpin time changes that demand imagination from the players as opposed to sheer precision. All three musicians on Jefferson's front line -- pianist Harold O'Neal, saxophonist Marcus Strickland, and bassist Richie Goods -- covered those bases but in a way where each brought individual personality to the table. As a result, the music sparkled in four dimensions, the way music does when four people truly play as a group. It was all the more remarkable when you consider that the players were seeing some of the charts for the first time as late as an hour and a half before the show.

The band touched on funk, R&B, and -- every now and then -- a vague shade of hip-hop. To combine those styles with jazz, one has to swerve around a minefield of cliches. This group not only succeeded in doing that, but also captured the essence and elegance of classic post-bop. O'Neil and Goods in particular morphed from classical to jazz modalities with impeccable agility and fluidity, with O'Neil at times sounding like the soulful offspring of, say, Steve Reich and Brad Mehldau. Meanwhile, Strickland burned with an intensity that was angular and lyrical at the same time, and also distinctly his own. Please pardon the obvious, but his facial expression *did* call to mind the late John Coltrane: he looked serious, immersed the whole time. He was clearly searching. And when you watch someone doing that, it hits you from across the room and lights the music up.

Not to be overlooked, of course, are the compositions themselves, which provided the framework for this group to make a most engagingly contemporary artform out of the time-honored post-bop traditions. Bravo.

In closing, two quick asides about Jake Shimabukuro, who appeared at the Eastman Theatre last night on a co-headlining bill with Carolyn Wonderland: 1) Man, it's a shame the stars didn't line up for Jake to make a guest appearance with SMV! Imagine a ukulele player holding his own with three thundering electric bassists. 2) When local conservative radio host Bob Lonsberry was introduced as the announcer for Carolyn Wonderland, some in the audience started booing. By "some" I mean *me* --until I realized "Wait a minute, that's Brother Wease!" A funny prank indeed...