Maybe I am becoming an old man, but the heavily moderate Nicholas Payton (who, in my younger years, I kinda ignored as a bit of a lame-o) is just the right balance of classic jazz and the avant garde for me these days. There are jamtacular moments in his performance, as well as some long forays into unexplored space. And then there’s a mellow interpretation of the them from Chinatown or a dippy “I’m goin’ back to New Orleans” singalong. One thing you won’t get from Payton: a hello. A polite way to describe his stage presence is “letting his music speak for him.” A more realistic way to describe it, alas, is obnoxious.
