Regardless of how the scene changes, it always seems like it's the best of times and the worst of times for jazz. Now is no exception. Major labels are more dependent than ever on crossover artists; slowly but steadily, their most acclaimed artists are defecting to run their own imprints; Internet and bandstand marketing of CDs allow micro labels to avoid increasingly pernicious retail and wholesale environments. The big three US jazz magazines cover an increasingly wide swath of artists, but with fewer pages and more recycled archive material; their lacking Web presence has given newcomers virtual free range. Domestically, jazz festivals have proliferated almost as fast as door gigs; overseas, touring Americans benefit from steroid currencies, even as markets flood with domestic content.

In recent decades, the paradigm shifts in jazz were the results of consolidating corporate and institutional powers: big fish swallowing little fish; the pottatch of title sponsorship; branding; etc. One of the more corrosive aspects of these consolidations in the 1980s and '90s was a double-barreled age bias, one that both fixated on youth and profusely venerated elders. A sub-generation of musicians was marginalized in the process. Still, by recording with start-up labels, creating circuits in regional markets one gig at a time, and continually composing and collaborating, they are now well-equipped for the current environment. Their numbers are significant; their seemingly sudden (re)appearance gives a snapshot of the current scene's extraordinary depth of field.

"Magical Spaces" may be only a detail of this larger picture; but it is representative of what this sub-generation of musicians is brining to the scene at a crucial time. They have clarity of purpose in their sound, an adult sense of commitment from meeting the often conflicting responsibilities family and careers. They honor the old school rule of "saying something" with their music. And, they are pragmatists in the classic sense, in that what they play says much about how they navigate life. Perhaps it should be unremarkable that artists like Jeff "Siege" Siegel play mature, uncompromising jazz; but, given the dominant jazz industry-generated media images of the past quarter-century, it isn't.

During this time, Siegel has seen the neglect, the machinations and the rare justice of the jazz industry from a number of angles. During the early '80s, Siegel worked with the fiery saxophonist, Arthur Rhames, whose scant discography and tragic death at 32 in '89 mad him legendary. Throughout the '80s, Siegel was a member of Second Sight, whose journeyman ranks yielded one of the most celebrated, forward-thinking musicians of the past decade, trumpeter Dave Douglas. In 1992, drummer/producer Jack DeJohnette tapped Siegel to play on the mega-hyped major label debut of teenage trumpet prodigy, Ryan Kisor. Throughout the late '90s, Siegel fueled the trio of pianist, Sir Roland Hanna, who has been curiously relegated to the second-tier of modernist stylists.

All the while, Siegel perfected the multitasking chops required of jazz artists, touring and recording with ongoing groups like the co-op piano trio, Stevens, Siegel & Ferguson; working with everyone from Claude "Fiddler" Williams to Wadada Leo Smith, and teaching at the university level. Yet, these complementary experiences have not simply made Siegel a seasoned veteran, but an artist who hears feeling. This is evident not only in his spirited, ensemble-oriented playing throughout "Magical Spaces", but in his compositions as well. Throughout the program, Siegel's tunes evoke familiar forms and sub-genres, but lack even a speck of generic gloss. The authenticity of Siegel's drumming and writing indicates that he has been current with his dues for a long time.

In the process, Siegel has become an insightful bandleader, who knows the potential of players well before their first rehearsal as a unit. On "Magical Spaces", he reunites pianist Francesca Tanksley and tenor saxophonist Erica Lindsay, who have developed a strong rapport over twenty years. Both, Tanksley, who has redirected the trajectory established by McCoy Tyner, and Lindsay, whose sound combines the spirituality of John Coltrane and the worldliness of Clifford Jordan, project an aura of quest in their playing, which is the essence of the quartet's sound. Siegel went beyond the usual suspects to bring in bassist Danton Boller, who compliments the music exceedingly well, combining a large sound that seeps into every space and an unostentatious virtuosity.

Additionally, Siegel knows how to build an album that is immediately engaging and increasingly rewarding with repeated listening. The pacing is crisp and the sequencing is smart. And, with the walk-on of the aptly named singer, Tim Strong, Siegel demonstrates that he knows how to play a wild card. Most importantly, the album lives up to its title, which Siegel gleaned from a Tom Harrell interview. "You hear that everything's been done before," the trumpeter related in the same interview (taken by Bob Blumenthal for Down Beat in 1997). "But, I don't think that way... You just have to find the magical spaces in the music." Jeff Siegel and his colleagues have found many.