“Sounded great!” quipped Scofield as drummer Bill Stewart suddenly dived off stage just as the trio had taken the stand. It was typical of the guitarist’s always amiable stagecraft, evident throughout the evening in clear, informative and sometimes wry announcements. Stewart was soon back, presumably having retrieved some forgotten item from the green room, and the band were into Blue Monk. The choice was indicative of the 70-minute set to come. This was Scofield deep into his jazz bag – a mix of bebop, ballad and the occasional bluesy vamp, all laced with a touch of the abstraction that has long been a Scofield trademark. Witness the revival here of Yawn, a wistful, harmonically austere tune from the guitarist’s Enja days (specifically the 1981 album Shinola), that illustrated the sharp contrast between this set and the levity and groove of the jazzed-pops show (and it was a show, singing drummer and all) by Sco’s Yankee Go Home band at the club last March.
Scofield has said “I think trio is always some of my best playing” and certainly the format, without another chordal instrument, gives him plenty of exposure, but also, leaving him exposed, plenty of challenges – how to fill the space, or not? Another guitarist of a similar generation and related style is Wayne Krantz. He plays (or played – he seems lately to have fallen silent, at least as far as the UK goes) so much chordal – or one might say ensemble – guitar in his trio that space is rarely felt. Scofield’s more of single-line player and the space around his notes was palpable: less so on the bebop such as Blue Monk, but clear in much of the night’s music.
The sparse lineup put more light on all the members, especially drummer Stewart, whose subtle colourations and reactions were a high point of many numbers. Perhaps significantly he was centre stage, his kit dominating the platform, with Scofield and bassist Vicente Archer almost in the wings. Another high point, as ever, was the Scofield coda, often producing a whole new level of incident. Typically, as here tonight, it entails no more than a couple of chords and a solid groove, prompting Scofield into a full display of his panoply of signature modal-soloing devices, including his particularly personal armoury of sideslips, diminished ideas and unexpected blues wails. The coda to the second number, TV Band, a sort of abstracted country-rock excursion, was typical and so was that of Yawn, where Scofield’s artistry became fully palpable.
Other numbers included Little Willie Leaps, Naima, an unnamed freebop, time-no-changes piece characterised by Tynerish fourth chords and, to close, a restrained, swampy 12-bar suggesting Mississippi in a mist. And that was it, with the customary genial farewell from Scofield before a lightly funky encore and exhortation to “Drink up and be merry – it’s the weekend.” The next day there was a members-only brunch featuring Scofield in conversation with John Etheridge, which must surely have been an illuminating event.
The John Scofield trio – Scofield (elg); Bill Stewart (d); Vicente Archer (b) – at Ronnie Scott’s, London, 28 March 2025
