The past month has been particularly intense – at once exhausting and exhilarating.

First up were a string of dates with Reuben Rogers and Gregory Hutchinson: Berkeley, LA, Santa Cruz and then a couple of gigs in Hawaii (my first time performing in that state). I had a few days off on the Big Island with my family. But, as many of you undoubtedly know, a vacation with a child is, first and foremost, a vacation for the child, not the parents. We had a blast, but it was hard work — kind of like being on the road, but with even earlier wake-up calls: Our son was up and ready to go at 5am every morning, like clock-work. . . . .

Then came a week with Reuben and Brian Blade at the Village Vanguard. What a thrill it was to be back! I used to play the Vanguard quite regularly during my first decade in New York, but it had been 8 years since my last engagement there (April of 2000, I think). Well, what can I say about the word’s greatest jazz club that hasn’t already been said time and time again. Everything about the Vanguard is special, inimitable, often approaching magical: near-perfect acoustics; riveting intimacy; an amazingly attentive and supportive audience; a totally dedicated, conscientious and colorful staff; the palpable aura and irresistible gravity of over 70 years of music-making on the highest level by some of the greatest jazz artists of all time. . . My heartfelt thanks to Lorraine, Jed and everyone else at the Vanguard for inviting us back and once again making us feel so at home.

And, if that wasn’t enough, less than 10 hours after we played our last note at the Vanguard, we were setting up shop at Avatar Studios, getting ready to start three days of non-stop recording. This session (like my previous one for Back East in spring of 2006) involved multiple bassists and drummers — in this case: Reuben, Greg, Brian and Larry Grenadier. But, unlike the Back East sessions, with this project we decided to record something with each different bass and drum tandem: a couple of tunes with Reuben and Greg, a few with Reuben and Brian, a few with Larry and Brian, one with Larry and Greg. Perhaps more interestingly, we recorded a fair amount of material with some less familiar combinations: a few things with two bassists and one drummer, and quite a lot of stuff with everyone together. It was, to say the least, a unique recording experience: quite unlike any session I’ve ever done before. Going into it, I had very little idea of what to expect. I’d written a lot of new music, and I had some general ideas about some things we might try. But I didn’t really have a detailed game plan, especially not for the stuff with two bassists and two drummers. I asked everyone to bring in a tune or a sketch, and we did a lot of experimenting and jamming with the tape (hard drive) rolling. The cats, as always, played with the utmost passion, creativity and commitment. And James Farber, the engineer, was incredible in his focus, his musicality, and his instinct for the optimal way to capture the sound and spirit of each configuration. While I can’t possibly hope to have any reliable perspective at this stage in the process; I will say that I can’t remember the last time I felt so positive about one of my recording sessions — at least at this point, barely a week later. (Or maybe I should say that I can’t remember the last time I felt less negative. . . but that’s a whole other subject . . . )

Finally, the day after the session, Larry, Greg and I flew to Chicago, for a concert at Chicago’s Symphony Center. We were joined there by the great Branford Marsalis, one of my all-time heroes on the soprano and tenor saxophones. It’s always a tremendous honor for me to have the opportunity to share the stage with Branford. I’ve sat in with him on a few occasions over the years; our bands did a couple of extended European tours together back in ’99 and ’00; and just this past June, Reuben, Eric Harland and I got to open for Branford and his quartet at Town Hall for the JVC Jazz Festival. But this was the first time that I’d ever had the chance to play several tunes in a row with Branford. (We did his “Citizen Tain,” my “Mantra 5,” the Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt classic “Blues Up and Down,” and then “Body and Soul” for the encore.) Moreover, it was especially significant for me to collaborate with Branford in this particular context, accompanied by just bass and drums. That’s because Branford, in my opinion, has produced some of the most creative and exemplary work for that configuration. The band he had in the early 90s with Bob Hurst and Jeff “Tain” Watts was one of the best ever. And “Bloomington,” their live album of 1991, stands for me as one of the great saxophone trio albums, right up there with Sonny’s “A Night At The Village Vanguard.” Thanks Branford, once again, for the inspiration, and the education.

After all this, I had a couple of days back home. Now I’m in DC this weekend, in the middle of another run at Blues Alley, with Greg on drums and Doug Weiss on bass. More rewarding and challenging work, no doubt. But, relative to last month, this almost feels a vacation!