Melford writes so precisely to her collaborators' strengths that she creates something deeply personal.
Above Blue belongs to Myra Melford's group The Same River, Twice, and the band's character hinges on Erik Friedlander's cello. It's an unusual anchor for a jazz ensemble — not a horn section, not bass and drums alone, but cello threading through the middle of the texture, woody and intimate where a saxophone might cut. Friedlander's instrument becomes Melford's conversation partner, and the piano-and-cello core gives every track an uncanny precision. They move together through compositional density without sounding like they're solving a puzzle; instead, it feels like two people who know exactly what the other is about to do.
Dave Douglas on trumpet and Chris Speed on reeds add sharpness and air, while Michael Sarin drives the rhythm with real swing sensibility, but the record's spine is Melford and Friedlander working out their ideas in real time. The compositional propositions here are genuinely weighty — nothing coasts on groove or virtuosity alone. Melford is specific about what each player brings, which means nothing feels generic, and nothing gets wasted. This is the Downtown aesthetic of the '80s and '90s refined into something less mannered, more alive.
Bill Shoemaker in JazzTimes observed that Melford had stepped beyond mastery of recombinant styles into something rarer: highly personal work built on precise understanding of her collaborators. That's exactly what happens when you put cello at the heart of your ensemble. It demands clarity and forces everyone to listen harder.