Harmolodic Convergence

Along with unimpeachable swing and blues sensibility to spare, Ornette Coleman possesses other jazz essentials today's institutional guardians leave out, beginning with individuality, or what some might call personal eccentricities—in his case, and arguably all cases, they amount to the same thing. Jazz's closest equivalent to the old, weird Dylan figured to win best album in the First Annual (?) Village Voice NY-and-Then-Some Jazz Critics' Circle Poll. The surprise was the margin of victory for Sound Grammar, Coleman's first new release in nine years and the first on his new vanity label of the same name, not to mention the eagerly anticipated recording debut of the dazzling two-bass quartet he's been performing with in concert since 2003. Top choice on 10 of the poll's 25 properly ranked ballots (including mine), Sound Grammar outpolled Andrew Hill's Time Lines(Blue Note), a strong favorite almost any other year, by better than two to one, 189-89. (Though voters were requested to assign their top-10 points in descending order—10 points for their 1, one point for their 10—five entrants, undeterred by a wag of my finger, chose to distribute points equally.)

The Circle consists of critics currently living in New York and/or writing for New York–based publications, along with a few from elsewhere who figured to add spice. (A different rotation of outsiders might be called on next year.) Thirty respondents voted for 10 new releases and three reissues in descending order, plus one vocal record and one debut. You can see their ballots at [URL], along with the complete results. More than 200 CDs received votes in the four categories—whether this reflects a true embarrassment of riches or just a lack of consensus beyond Ornette is a question for a later occasion. One thing I learned for sure, in my position as this poll's self-appointed poobah, is how many mailing lists I'm not on.

Charles Mingus photo: Jazz Workshop Inc.

Placing somewhere on two-dozen of the 30 lists—compared to 13 for Hill and 11 for Sonny Rollins's third-place Sonny, Please (Doxy)—Sound Grammar still would have won handily counting only those ballots that didn't pick it

1. Even if you consider that Wilco guitarist Nels Cline's New Monastery (Cryptogramophone), a surprising fourth-place finisher, is subtitled "A View into the Music of Andrew Hill," adding its votes to those for Time Lines would do no more than reduce Coleman's margin of victory to just over 50. Ornette was the clear winner among radicals and conservatives, and in every age and racial demographic. If a certain New Yorker on loan to Kansas hadn't pulled out at the last minute—after e-mailing me that he despised polls, but was looking for forward to voting for Ornette—I'd be telling you Grammar even carried the red states. This is what critical consensus looks like, folks, and for it to be forming behind a figure portrayed as a barbarian at the gate nearly 50 years ago isn't ironic—it's the way evolution is supposed to work, only it's not supposed to take so long.

Time Lines, an even thornier and more densely lyrical effort than usual from another maverick absorbed into the mainstream and on a roll, is also

2. on my list. But after Hill is where the Circle and I went our separate ways, with only Rollins in common. Here are the rest of my choices, along with how they fared in the poll at large, ranked up to 40:

3. Theo Bleckmann and Fumio Yasuda, Las Vegas Rhapsody—The Night They Invented Champagne (Winter & Winter). The most transcendent vocal album in many a moon (for my money, anyway) reminds me of Björk's Selmasongs. Bleckmann's voice and Yasuda's orchestrations have the same blissfully troubling emotional pull. (Unranked)

4. Odyssey the Band, Back in Time (Pi). The electric-hoedown bottom half of the straight harmolodic ticket, reuniting James Blood Ulmer with his compelling, short-lived trio of the early '80s. (39)

5. Sonny, Please (Doxy). Riff tunes, ballads, a calypso, and an oddball pop selection—the sameformula as before, but a full-bodied sound and the Colossus at the top of his game make all the difference. (3)

6. Steven Bernstein's Millennial Territory Orchestra: MTO, Volume 1 (Sunnyside). Avant covers ranging from Cecil Scott and His Syncopated Serenaders to the Dead and Prince, with fastidious musicianship only adding to the fun. (13)

7. Odean Pope Saxophone Choir, Locked & Loaded (Half Note). Sax-section voicings as in-the-clouds as Ellington's or Benny Carter's, plus Pope, Michael Brecker, James Carter, and Joe Lovano's post-Coltrane speaking-in-tongues —either way gets you to heaven, but both earn you wings. (16)

8. Andy Biskin, Early American—The Melodies of Stephen Foster (Strudelmedia). Foster deconstructed in the new old-fashioned way, but with his defining doo-dah blessedly intact. (Unranked)

9. Houston Person with Bill Charlap, You Taught My Heart to Sing (HighNote). Melodious duets representing a young pianist's coming of age and a veteran blue-collar tenorist's apotheosis. (25)

10. Steve Swallow and Robert Creeley, So There (Xtrawatt/ECM). The greatest love poet of the second half of the 20th century (when love got really difficult) lived long enough into the 21st to lay down tracks for what proved to be good friend Swallow's moving, high-spirited eulogy. (Unranked)