Benny Carter, Symphony In Riffs (Rhapsody Films). This documentary was made several years before the death in 2003 of the great saxophonist, trumpeter, clarinetist, arranger, composer and occasional vocalist. It tells Carter’s story from early development as a prodigy through his crucial contribution to the development of big bands, his breakthrough as the first major black composer in Hollywood and his status as a universally acclaimed cultural figure. Burt Lancaster narrates this skillfully produced hour in which we see Carter in action as soloist, leader, teacher and avuncular role model to several generations. A coda to the new edition updates the original 1989 version and includes identification of key musicians who go unnamed in the body of the film.

Gary Giddins, Weather Bird: Jazz At The Dawn Of Its Second Century (Oxford). I take my time getting through Giddins’s big compilations of his columns, reviews and essays. This one was beside my bed for a couple of years. I savored it a piece at a time, enjoying insights like this about Erroll Garner: “Two things invariably keep the train on the track. First, he swings hard enough to allay reservations; if he has charge of your foot, he can get to your mind. Second, and more impressively, he improvises with a matchless lucidity that allows people who glaze over at the thought of improvisation to follow Garner’s most fanciful inventions.” And this, in a chapter called “How Come Jazz Isn’t Dead?”: “For half a century, each generation mourned anew the passing of jazz because each idealized the particular jazz of its youth.” Or, as Woody Herman, surveying the crowd at a dance he was playing, told me, “These people haven’t listened to anything new since high school.” Giddins, as they say, gets it.

Paoli Mejias, Transcend (PMCD). A gifted 37-year-old percussionist, Mejias has been an admired figure in Latin music for years. Now, like some of his colleagues on this stimulating CD, he is breaking through to a wider audience. Miguel Zenón is on a couple of tracks, another talented young alto saxophonist, Jaleel Shaw, on others. Zenón’s rhythm section–Luis Perdomo, Hans Glawischnig and Antonio Sánchez–give strong support, but the fiery Mejias is clearly in charge.

Frank Sinatra, A Voice In Time (1939-1952) [Legacy]. The four CDs in this elegant black box begin with “All Or Nothing At All” and end with “I’m A Fool To Want You.” They encompass a large percentage of what Sinatra recorded for Columbia and RCA Victor, first as the boy wonder of band singers, finally as a mature solo performer setting standards of musicianship and taste that singers will be trying to meet for decades longer than you or I will be around to listen.

Sarah Vaughan Live In ’58 & ’64 (Jazz Icons). In the earliest of these European concerts, the divine Sarah is girlish and shy. By 1964, she had more confidence on stage and occasionally slid into grand vocal mannerisms. In all cases, she was magnificent, one of the most spectacularly gifted vocalists in history. For a complete Rifftides review of this essential DVD, go here.

András Schiff, Ludwig Van Beethoven, The Piano Sonatas, Vol. V (ECM). This leg of Schiff’s journey through the 32 Sonatas finds him in Beethoven’s middle period. Of the four included here, those given names as well as opus numbers are the most famous; “The Tempest,” “The Hunt” and “Waldstein.” The brilliant Austrian plays them with grace, passion and his celebrated touch and dynamic sense. But I find myself going back to the earliest of the set, number 16 in G-Major, for the unexpected treasure Schiff finds in the adagio movement. His complete sonatas project is on the way to ranking with Arthur Schnabel’s and Richard Goode’s.

Philip Larkin, All What Jazz (FSG). Perhaps I was too harsh when I called the late British poet and jazz critic a troglodyte. It must be admitted, however, that he found it difficult to say anything favorable about modern jazz without backing into the compliment. “I never liked bop,” Larkin wrote. It seemed to me a nervous and hostile music, at odds with the generous spirit of its predecessors. But it had its masters. One of these was Clifford Brown…” Still, even his most wrong-headed conclusions can make entertaining reading. It is getting harder and harder to find this book. Now might be the time to snag a copy.

Keith Jarrett, Gary Peacock, Jack DeJohnette, My Foolish Heart (ECM). In his notes, Jarrett writes that this recording presents his Standards Trio “at its most buoyant, swinging, melodic and dynamic.” Sure does. For evidence, follow the link above and sample Jarrett summoning the spirit of Fats Waller in “Honeysuckle Rose.” Lately, I’ve had this disc permanently inserted in my CD changer with “Straight No Chaser” on repeat. I can’t seem to accumulate enough hearings of the trio’s quirky collective improvisation on Monk’s blues.

Linda Ciofalo, Sun Set (Lucky Jazz). Matt Wilson, the drummer on the CD, suggested that I would like Ciofalo. I do. She is adventurous, but not to the point of disrespecting the material. She sings in tune, uses time play in her phrasing without losing rhythmic consistency and has a light, creamy voice that now and then drops to surprising depth. She is willing to take risks–for instance, singing with only drums or bass–and makes it clear that she enjoys what she does. Ciofalo is as convincing with a Beatles song as one by Gershwin or Rodgers. The band, John di Martino (p.), John Hart (g.), Joel Frahm (t.s.), Marcus McLaurine (b.) and Wilson (dr.), is splendid.

Nat Cole, Penthouse Serenade & The Piano Style of Nat King Cole (Collectors’ Choice). Nat Cole’s singing made him a king of popular music. His playing influenced pianists from Bud Powell to Bill Evans and beyond. The two albums included in this reissue CD will help those who know him only as a pop star to understand why Cole is revered for his touch, harmonic ingenuity and melodic creativity. The Penthouse tracks are reminiscent of his trio days. In The Piano Style, spurred by Nelson Riddle’s inspired arrangements, Cole did some of the best recorded playing of his career. Intimations of Earl Hines, Teddy Wilson and Art Tatum flash through the deceptively placid surface of his swing-to-bop sensibility.

Wes Montgomery, Live in ’65 (Jazz Icons). Anyone interested in guitar at the highest level will be fascinated by this DVD. If you are intrigued by the democratic, cooperative nature of jazz, you will relish the first segment. (For a complete Rifftides review of this DVD, go here.)

Gene Lees, Song Lake Summer (Libros Libertad). Lees, the prolific biographer of musicians and proprietor of the invaluable Jazzletter, turns novelist with fiction about a little-remembered piece of history in the northeastern US. It is the tale of a deep and unlikely friendship that develops between two men, a love story with a surprising twist and a lyrical imagining of a time and way of life we’ll never see again. Full disclosure: I wrote a blurb for the dust jacket (“Lees has the ability, reminiscent of Chekhov, to explore feelings and inner conflicts that his characters cannot define in themselves”). And I’d do it again.

Ted Rosenthal, The King And I (Venus). Following Shelly Manne’s success with his 1956 trio recording of My Fair Lady, jazz versions of Broadway musicals were hot for several years. That was when there were musicals with songs that lent themselves to jazz interpretation. Those days are not gone for musicians with ears for quality material. Pianist Rosenthal brings taste, technique and imagination to Rodgers and Hammerstein’s score. Bass master George Mraz and the eloquent drummer Lewis Nash are his sidemen. Among the highlights: Rosenthal’s festive treatment of “I Whistle A Happy Tune,” his tenderness in “We Kiss In A Shadow” and the trio’s parade-beat romp through “March Of The Siamese Children.”

Ed Reed Sings Love Stories, Blue Shorts. Reed’s drug habit put him in prison for large chunks of his adult life, derailing his hope for a singing career. In the 1980s, he defeated his forty-year addiction and went to work on his craft. Now, he emerges on record as a singer of warmth, deep feeling, accurate intonation and no affectations. Jazz has a shortage of male singers like that.

Marvin Stamm, Alone Together (Jazzed Media). Trumpeter Stamm’s quartet with pianist Bill Mays, bassist Rufus Reid and drummer Ed Soph reaches its peak in this concert at Rising Stars, a cozy Southern California concert space. Equipped with microphones, cameras and lighting, the little hall is also a state-of-the-art audio and video studio. We see and hear the musicians with clarity, intimacy and a variety of camera angles rare in jazz DVDs. From the chance-taking opening of the title tune to the rip-roaring “T’s Butter,” this hour-and-twenty-minute concert is a joy. The DVD comes with a bonus CD of the performance, minus a few minutes of spoken material.

Ron Hudson, Right Down Front (Jazzpress). A master of the moment, Hudson makes portraits of musicians in the act of creation. His cover shot of Milt Jackson –eyes closed, one hand grasping his vibes mallets, the other raised in affirmation– illustrates the spirit of the book’s title. His photographs define personalities as varied as those of Maynard Ferguson, Jon Hendricks, Elvin Jones, Ingrid Jensen, Carmen McRae, Ray Charles and a hundred or so others. I’ve never seen a better illustration than Hudson’s of Ray Brown’s power of concentration.

Maria Schneider, Sky Blue (artistShare). As I wrote in a Rifftides review of the album, this CD is the finest expression of the composer’s restless and evolving talent. She writes with an ear for the capabilities and personalities of the musicians in her band. They respond with improvisations that suit the character of her music. It’s a perfect marriage of a writer’s intentions and her players’ ability to carry them out.

Jay Thomas-John Stowell Quartet, Streams of Consciousness(Pony Boy). Delightful, often profound, intimacies. Thomas on fluegelhorn and Stowell on guitar sometimes blend in ways reminiscent of the Art Farmer Quartet with Jim Hall. When Thomas switches to tenor saxophone, the music moves into Wayne Shorter territory. Those comparisons are unfair to the originality of both of these veteran players, but it’s unlikely to be a coincidence that three of the tunes are by Shorter. Bassist Chuck Kistler and drummer Adam Kessler are full contributors to the success of this imaginative recording.

Bing Crosby & Louis Armstrong, Havin’ Fun (Storyville). A two-CD set containing several of Crosby’s radio shows from the late 1940s and early ’50s with Armstrong as the guest, but not the only one. Jack Teagarden, Joe Venuti, Peggy Lee, Ella Fitzgerald and Dinah Shore show up, too. The album title, as Louis might say, ain’t no stage joke, neither. They really do have fun, occasionally sending up the stilted lines the writers hand them and improvising their own. Great live radio of a kind long gone. Kidding aside – and there’s lots of that — the main thing is the music, and it’s all good.