BED, Bedlam (Blue Swing). BED is the acronym for vocalist Becky Kilgore, guitarist Eddie Erickson and trombonist Dan Barrett. The group also includes bassist Joel Forbes, but the name BEDJ wouldn’t make much sense. What does make sense is Ms. Kilgore’s sunny, flawlessly in-tune singing and the way she interacts with the easy-going playing and occasional singing of her three co-conspirators in the art of delivering fine songs. BED’s repertoire includes great standards and some unusual entries: a banjo medley of tunes from “Oklahoma,” for instance. And when is the last time you heard “My Canary Has Circles Under His Eyes?”

Debra DeSalvo, The Language of the Blues (Billboard Books). From “Alcorub” to “Zuzu,” Ms. DeSalvo combines solid research with humor, insight and straightforward description to explain the often arcane terms that populate blues songs. You may have an idea about the various meanings of “easy rider,” but how about “faro,” “biscuit,” “cooling board?” “Mojo” gets two full pages. The book is more than a dictionary; it’s a lesson in the Southern black culture that took root in rural blues and spread throughout the world. That’s no woofin’ (page 158).

The Heath Brothers, Brotherly Jazz (DanSun). Part documentary, part concert, this engrossing film about the celebrated Philadelphia brothers was shot a year before elder brother Percy Heath died in 2005. Their life stories are varied–Percy the fighter pilot who became a major bassist–Jimmy, the saxophonist who transformed himself from an addict into one of the great arrangers–Tootie, the drummer who says his older brothers saved him from a possible future as a doctor or lawyer. They play for producer Danny Scher’s cameras in one of their last gigs together. Sonny Rollins, Herbie Hancock and Percy’s fishing buddy Peter Jennings make appearances. The archival footage includes film of Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker, early colleagues of the Heaths.

Sonny Rollins, Sonny, Please (Doxy). A canny balance between new compositions and show tunes he loved in his youth. The great tenor saxophonist proves that since 2001’s Without a Song, and following the loss of his wife two years ago, his strength, imagination and intensity are undiminished. Steady work together has finely attuned Rollins and his five bandmates. His solos, laced with allusions and quotes, are notably cheerful. Stephen Foster is on his mind. “Oh! Susannah” pops up on two tracks, and he summons “Old Folks at Home” on another. Of the new pieces, his tribute to Tommy Flanagan, “Remembering Tommy,” should have the staying power to become a jazz standard. With this release on his own label, Rollins joins the ranks of musicians taking their business affairs into their own hands. Universal will distribute Sonny, Please as a digital download in November and a CD in January, but now it is available in both forms only through Rollins’s web site.

Brian Lynch/Eddie Palmieri, Simpático (ArtistShare). Lynch, trumpeter for Eddie Palmieri, is the leader in this immensely satisfying album. He also works for Phil Woods and brings in both of his bosses as sidemen. At the piano, Palmieri ignites the proceedings spectacularly on Lynch’s “The Palmieri Effect.” Woods contributes stunning alto sax solos. Lynch plays throughout with fire, technical perfection and bebop harmonic understanding. Lila Downs brings emotional depth to vocals on two pieces, including Palmieri’s classic “Páginas De Mujer.” The bands range from six to thirteen musicians. This is Palmieri’s most impressive jazz/Latin collaboration since his 1966 El Sonido Nuevo with Cal Tjader. It is a major achievement for Lynch, who composed four of the pieces and collaborated with Palmieri on the rest. Like Rollins, he is now in business for himself. The Simpático link above takes you to Lynch’s web site.

Alan Broadbent, Every Time I Think of You (Artistry Music). The pianist applies his keyboard elegance and arranging talent to an album featuring his piano, Brian Bromberg’s bass, Kendall Kay’s drums and a string section. Broadbent’s treatment of “Blue in Green” is a highlight, as haunting in its evocation of Bill Evans as is his “E. 32nd Elegy” of New York City in Lennie Tristano’s day. His string writing supports and enhances the trio without a single harmonic clash, and it avoids the most common sins of jazz albums with strings, repetition and boredom. I keep going back to the shimmering ensemble beneath the simplicity of Broadbent tracing the melody of “Last Night When We Were Young” and to the noirish introduction to “Nirvana Blues.”

Vic Juris, Corey Christiansen, Live at the Smithsonian Jazz Café (Mel Bay). Relaxation and amiable swing characterize two-and-a-half hours with the veteran Juris and the relative newcomer Christiansen. The guitarists are close listeners and thoughtful improvisers more concerned with line, chords and mood than with display and fire. The varied repertoire includes well chosen standards, compositions by each and originals by Carla Bley and Wayne Shorter. Over the years, “All The Things You Are” has been ratcheted up faster and faster, the meaning squeezed out of it. Juris and Christiansen take it at ballad tempo, give it a minor tinge and find new insights into the piece. Bassist Bill Moring and drummer Tim Horner are strong in support. Sound is excellent. Video production is straightforward, with nary a three-second cut or exploded shot. The most adventurous techniques are the judicious use of split screens and occasional fades between color and black and white.

Lee Tanner, The Jazz Image: Masters of Photography (Abrams). The veteran jazz photographer assembles under one roof 150 examples of the best work of twenty-seven of his peers. Many of the prints are familiar–Herman Leonard’s image of Dexter Gordon and a cloud of backlit smoke at the Royal Roost, Tanner’s of Horace Silver musing. Others, less well known, are as surprising as the music itself–Ole Brask’s image of a meeting of the Roy Eldridge-Norman Granz mutual admiration society; William Claxton’s overhead view of young Chet Baker; Jim Marshall’s picture of Duke Ellington clapping time and urging Paul Gonsalves to wail; a convocation of drummers photographed by Milt Hinton; Ornette Coleman cooly appraising his rhythm section in a double spread by Jan Persson. On your coffee table or your lap, this is an entertaining companion.

Diana Krall, From This Moment On (Verve). The pianist and vocalist returns to the mainstream with fine playing and singing on ten standards from the great American songbook and one by Antonio Carlos Jobim. Spare arrangements by Krall on four quartet tracks and John Clayton on seven with the Clayton-Hamilton Jazz Orchestra are effective settings for her dusky voice. Highlights: Gershwin’s “I Was Doing All Right” and Berlin’s “Isn’t This a Lovely Day,” the latter with short, story-tellling solos by alto saxophonist Jeff Clayton and trumpeter Terell Stafford. Krall’s piano solos throughout are eloquent and to the point, her singing warm and attuned to a selection of great songs.

Charlie Barnet, Town Hall Concert (HEP). As the swing era wound down, Barnet was one of the leaders hoping to keep big bands alive by pleasing the dancers while accomodating bebop developments. He had the right combination of elements; his adaptation of Elllingtonia, a smattering of bop-oriented young musicians, great arrangements by Andy Gibson, Neal Hefti and Billy May and–far from least–his own gutsy saxophone solos and charisma. The December, 1947, Town Hall concert is one of his enduring monuments. The trumpet work of 27-year-old Clark Terry–now thrilling, now endearing–is fresh fifty-nine years later.

The Jim Cutler Jazz Orchestra, In Progress (Pony Boy). Seattle seems to be breeding big bands. Cutler’s is one of the best of the current crop. There’s not a household name among the twenty-three musicians who appear in this stimulating collection of twelve originals and John Coltrane’s “Dear Lord,” but who cares? Execution and solos are first rate (watch out for tenor saxophonist Richard Cole). Cutler and Daniel Barry write beautifully.

Jazz on the West Coast: The Lighthouse (RoseKing). This is the story of the club that became headquarters for music that blew a fresh wind through jazz in the 1950s when Chet Baker, Bud Shank, Shelly Manne and Bob Cooper were among the new stars of West Coast Jazz. Much of the story is told through recollections of veterans of the era, including Shank, Bill Holman, Stan Levey and Howard Rumsey. Rumsey was the bassist who partnered with a recovering gambler to make the Lighthouse an institution in Hermosa Beach. The California town was embarassed by the club until its leaders realized that they had a treasure in their midst. The DVD is a documentary laced with music.

Sinclair Lewis, It Can’t Happen Here (Signet Classics). One of the Nobel prize winner’s most clumsily written novels, it nonetheless carries a timeless warning about how a leader able to manipulate the citizenry could quickly erode democracy’s fragile stability. The totalitarian takeover that Lewis created as fiction in 1935 is a graphic echo of Patrick Henry’s (or Wendell Phillips’s) reminder about the price of liberty being eternal vigilance.

Sonny Rollins, Work Time (Prestige). This was recorded more than fifty years ago. It is forever new. At twenty-six, Rollins was full of energy and bursting with ideas. I have never listened to him soar through “There’s No Business Like Show Business” and Billy Strayhorn’s “Raincheck” without grinning. Max Roach, high on his partnership with Clifford Brown, was at his apogee of drumming. Ray Bryant’s gorgeous piano solo on “There Are Such Things” is his best ballad playing on record. The bassist, George Morrow, had been working with Rollins and Roach in the Roach-Brown group and locked powerfully into Rollins’ momentum. This is a basic repertoire item.

Brian Lynch, 24/7 (Nagel Heyer). I just caught up with this 2002 album. Lynch teams his trumpet with Miguel Zenon’s alto saxophone. The two of them groove with a fine rhythm section of pianist Rick Germanson, bassist Hans Glawischnig and drummer Neal Smith. Everyone plays well on the originals by band members, but the prize tracks are Jerome Kern’s “Nobody Else but Me” Louis Armstrong’s “West End Blues” and Ellington’s barely-known ballad “Azalea.” In the Kern, Lynch, using a tight mute, is quick and lyrical (yes, those qualities can go together). In “West End Blues,” he nails Armstrong’s cadenza opening and observes the original arrangement, then he, Zenon and Germanson (keep an eye on him) play stunning extended solos before wrapping it up with the celebrated 1928 Armstrong tag.

András Schiff, Beethoven Piano Sonatas, Volume II, op. 10 and 13 (ECM). If you are a jazz listener who doesn’t cotton to what is often categorized as “classical” music, you have my sympathy because you won’t be hearing this brilliant pianist in the second CD of his projected series of the Beethoven sonatas. Consider relenting. Even you can probably relate to the c-minor, the famous “Pathetique,” but Schiff’s magic with the slow movement of the D-major could just convert you entirely. Lucky you. Schiff is one of the supreme pianists of his generation. His first two volumes of the sonatas suggest that his complete set will rank with Richard Goode’s among his contemporaries and Arthur Schnabel’s among his predecessors. Aside: I can’t help wondering if the classically-canny Bill Evans had the first movement of the D-major in mind when he wrote “Waltz for Debby.”

Jazz Shots From The East Coast, Vols. 1-3, Jazz Shots from the West Coast, Vols. 1-3 (EforFilms). The music on these discs is almost uniformly good. The video ranges from TV quality to grainy film, and no wonder; some of these clips are ancient soundies. There are great rewards here, but be warned: the producers provide no information beyond the names of the leaders and the tunes, unless it was superimposed on the original clip. No dates. No sidemen identification. Who was that marvelous alto saxophonist soloing with Duke Ellington on “Sophisticated Lady?” It was Willie Smith, replacing Johnny Hodges for a time in the early 1950s, but if you don’t recognize him, you’re out of luck. Fortunately, pianist Ronnie Matthews’ name appears on the screen in a marvelous performance of “Monk’s Dream” by Johnny Griffin, but that is a rarity. Who was East Coast and who was West Coast may have been decided by a toss of the dice. In the course of the series, Duke Ellington, Art Blakey, Bill Evans, Phil Woods, Jimmy Smith and Thelonious Monk show up in both categories. But pigeon holes don’t matter, music does, and for all of their informational faults, these DVDs deliver plenty of it by some of the best players of the twentieth century.

Vivian Perlis and Libby Van Cleve, Composers’ Voices from Ives to Ellington (Yale). This is the book that took first place over Take Five: The Public and Private Lives of Paul Desmond in the Independent Publishers awards competition. But, no hard feelings, only gratitude for a hefty volume that presents oral history in a readable–and listenable–form. The book includes two CDs with, in many cases, the voices of the composers. Aaron Copland: “Music needn’t be so high-falutin’ that it becomes abstract and just pure notes, you know.” Duke Ellington: “Everything is so highly personalized that you just can’t find a category big enough. And ‘jazz’ certainly isn’t big enough.” If you wish to know more about Eubie Blake, Mel Powell, Nadia Boulanger, Edgard Varèse or Nicolas Slonimsky, among many others, this is a book for you.

One For All, The Lineup (Sharp Nine). I have groused often enough, maybe too often, about soundalike improvisers in the younger generations of jazz players. One For All have their audible influences but for the most part they are happy exceptions to the carbon copy rule. In addition, tenor saxophonist Eric Alexander, trumpeter Jim Rotondi, trombonist Steve Davis, pianist David Hazeltine, bassist John Webber and drummer Joe Farnsworth are a band, not just a bunch of guys thrown together to record. The album is consistently satisfying. One For All’s version of “Sweet and Lovely” is a gem.