Tarus Mateen built a reputation on a sound, not a style. He plays upright bass but gets a tone out of it that's thick, muted, almost distorted — closer to an electric bass run through a small amp than the round woody thump most people expect from acoustic bass. He does this with technique, not effects pedals, and it's become one of those things musicians talk about when they talk about him. You hear two notes from a Jason Moran record and you know it's Mateen before the piano even comes in.

He came up playing both electric and acoustic bass in New York's jazz scene in the 1990s, working sideman gigs that required him to be flexible rather than famous. He spent time with Betty Carter, whose bands were basically finishing school for a generation of young improvisers who needed to learn how to listen fast and think on their feet. He also worked with Greg Osby and Steve Coleman, both of whom were pushing rhythm and harmony into odder, more angular places, which suited Mateen's instincts fine.

The gig that really put him on the map was joining pianist Jason Moran's trio, the Bandwagon, alongside drummer Nasheet Waits. That group became one of the defining piano trios of its era, and Mateen's bass was half the reason why — not just holding down the bottom but actively arguing with the piano, dropping in and out of time, bending pitch in ways that made the trio feel like three equal voices instead of piano-plus-rhythm-section. Records like Facing Left (2000) and Black Stars (2001) show what that sounded like in practice: loose, conversational, sometimes deliberately lopsided.

What makes Mateen worth seeking out isn't flash. He's not the guy soloing for five minutes to prove a point. He's the guy who changes the entire feel of a tune by leaning on a note half a second later than you expect. That's a harder skill to notice and a harder one to fake.

If you're new to him, don't start by listening for him — start by listening to the whole trio and noticing how strange and good the bottom end feels. Then go back and isolate what he's doing. It's subtler than it sounds and more essential than it gets credit for.