Ray Comiskey reviews a night of compellingly propulsive swing at JJ Smyth's in Dublin

Jim Mullen/Phil Ware Trio, JJ Smyth's

This week's encounter with Summit - Phil Ware (piano), Dave Redmond (bass) and Kevin Brady (drums) - brought the great Scottish guitarist Jim Mullen to Dublin for a concert which was sheer, unalloyed enjoyment from start to finish.

Although he has, in the past, performed in several jazz idioms, Mullen is essentially a bop-rooted player with a prodigious technique and a well of melodic ideas that never seems to run dry. His swing is compellingly propulsive and his repertoire is so vast that quotes from different pieces turn up in his solos; in fact, if quoting was an Olympic sport he would be a gold medallist.

However, although the quoting grew and a sense of wit and fun increased, especially towards the end, they were usually so deftly woven into the fabric of his solos that they enhanced, rather than disturbed, their flow: on a sweepingly romantic Embraceable You, for instance, quotes from September Song and Mean to Me would simply be part of the ongoing ceaseless invention, a product of his exuberant joy in performing.

And that was evident from the start, particularly his pleasure in finding himself with a trio as capable and congenial as Phil Ware's. From the opening A Beautiful Friendship it was clear not only that he felt secure that anything he did would be immediately picked up by the trio, but that the trio was perfect for the mainstream bop idiom that was the lingua franca of the evening. They, in turn, were inspired by Mullen's quick-witted, no-holds-barred approach; Phil Ware soloed superbly (despite the venue's new piano being due for a tuning this week), even catching the quoting bug, Dave Redmond anchored the inventive flux around him, and Dave Redmond showed what a fine drummer he is in this demanding context.

Standards, as might be expected, provided most of the repertoire. But Mullen leavened a well-chosen selection that included My Ship and I Fall In Love Too Easily with Earth, Wind and Fire's After the Love Is Gone, Freddie Hubbard's blues, Birdlike, and a lovely, seldom-played bossa, Estaté. They all provoked lengthy solos which never flagged or failed to sustain interest, a minor miracle in itself where jazz is concerned.

Mullen didn't employ a plectrum; instead he used his thumb, obtaining a full ringing sound which he deployed with a distinctively expressive vibrato that gave his solos a highly vocalised quality. And that was appropriate; throughout the night he gave what was virtually a masterclass in how to play melody and wring the most out of it. And his closing tribute to the trio that backed him so well was clearly heartfelt. Ray Comiskey