This album captures so much about a particular era in New York jazz: With the likes of Brad Mehldau and Kurt Rosenwinkel on the cusp of major breakthroughs, the music was undergoing harmonic and rhythmic shifts. New families of sounds were emerging. St. Louis–born saxophonist Chris Cheek, with two previous Fresh Sound albums under his belt, was among the brilliant New York players to rise in this period, and Vine was his most ambitious early statement as a leader. Brad Mehldau plays the electric Fender Rhodes on five of the eight tracks—not common for the pianist at the time, though presaging his use of electronics on Mehliana and other later projects. Guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel brings airy harmonic texture and jaw-dropping solos to the table, varying his tone with edgier fuzz on “What’s Left” but crystal-clear enunciation and technical control on “Ice Fall”, one of Cheek’s spellbinders, a classic. With bassist Matt Penman (future SFJAZZ Collective) and drummer Jorge Rossy (from Mehldau’s acclaimed early trio) in the rhythm section, Cheek reveals a range of influences on this all-original program. There’s a folksy lilt to “Vine”, probing lyricism on “Granada” and an elegant, bluesy swagger coursing through “Reno” (with a sublime two choruses up front for just tenor, bass and guitar). The futuristic sonorities of “So It Seems” and “Ice Fall” point toward a new jazz sensibility for the 2000s. The tenor/guitar unison lines of “The Wing Key” have a wobbly, off-center and yet terrifically precise quality that compares to Rosenwinkel’s work with Mark Turner. Cheek’s instruments of choice are tenor and soprano, and the decision to end with the gorgeous soprano/piano duet “Not a Samba” speaks to his confidence on that instrument. After starting “So It Seems” on tenor, he solos and ends the piece on soprano, a subtle move that might slip by on first listen. (Cheek’s expertise on baritone sax, with Guillermo Klein’s Los Guachos and others, is also worth noting.)