Merge ahead

What happens when 10 top musicians from the melodic side of the tracks -- luminaries of fusion and smooth jazz like pianists Jeff Lorber and George Duke, guitarist Lee Ritenour, saxmen Kirk Whalum, Boney James, and Gary Meek -- hang out for two days together in a Southern California studio?

Wait -- is this a trick question?

Not in the least. The answer is: They make a record, and a fine one at that, a funky, swinging affair with plenty of edge and the raw spontaneity of a classic blowing session among artists with chops, verve, and nothing to prove.

At least that is what happened when bassist Brian Bromberg, a noted transgressor of jazz boundaries with the temerity to frequent both smooth jazz and straight-ahead scenes, convened these musicians in his Los Angeles studio. With traditional instrumentation and production values and unapologetically groovy and melodic material, the album, "Downright Upright," should give zealots and separatists of both camps pause.

The results may be put to the test tomorrow, when Bromberg visits Scullers with slightly rejiggered but no less distinguished personnel, featuring Lorber, Meek, and also trumpeter Randy Brecker and drummer Dave Weckl.

On the phone from Los Angeles, Bromberg, who is 46 years old and made his first recording as a leader in 1986 after starting in Stan Getz's band, explains that the merger of musicians and styles on "Downright Upright" was, in his mind, a long time coming.

"It's kind of what I've wanted to make for a long time," he says. "I make a lot of different records, from crazy distorted fusion-y stuff to traditional trio jazz. I've been lucky to have some success in the smooth world and in the traditional jazz world."

On "Downright Upright," he says, "everybody just gets together and blows. It's all improvised. We rehearsed in two days. There's no rehearsal, no major arrangements."

Lorber agrees: "Brian and I go back almost 20 years, but of all the projects we've worked on together I think this is my favorite," he says. "The chemistry and vibe between the musicians was really special. The feeling in the studio was that something very unique was going on."

And it's true -- the feel of the 10-song program, half Bromberg compositions, is entirely spontaneous and organic. The sole exception is the guitar solos, which in fact are not guitar at all but Bromberg on the piccolo bass, overdubbed and mixed into the album. This good-natured sleight-of-hand may be a wink by Bromberg, who calls himself mainly a producer these days, to postmodern artifice and electronic possibility.

A producer's aesthetic informs the album in other ways, too. For one thing, although Bromberg is the leader and it's his name on the cover, his presence on the bass is very traditional and low-key, with few solos and no plucking fireworks or bow wizardry.

"I make records not as a bass player but as a producer, very balanced and well rounded," he explains. "We have so many independent strong voices, it could be anybody's record. My role as the bass player is to play the foundation so that everybody can build off me."

Bassist-bandleaders are by no means unknown -- Charles Mingus and Charlie Haden spring to mind -- yet they aren't exactly common either. Bromberg says that early in his career, he looked to these greats mainly for their musical technique. But as he matured as a musician, he came to appreciate the subtleties of leading from the bottom, so to speak.

"The bass's primary role has been supportive, in the background," he says; it took time for it to be accepted as a lead instrument. "That's mainly because of its role, and the fact that its pitch is so low. It's taken a long time for people to understand that a bass player can have a voice. Thank God, that's evolved, and people before me paved the way."

One factor in foregrounding the bass was the blossoming of funky, groovy approaches to jazz in the 1970s, linked to concurrent developments in rock and soul. Bands of the day such as Herbie Hancock's Headhunters, various Miles Davis lineups, or outfits from Tower of Power and Mandrill to Earth Wind & Fire and Steely Dan, made music that could belong just as easily to all or none of these categories.

From that time Bromberg draws inspiration, and material. On "Downright Upright" this manifests in the choice of songs, which include the Hancock classics "Cantaloupe Island" and "Chameleon," as well as in the themes of Bromberg's compositions for the occasion, which have titles like "Shag Carpet" and "Leisure Suit."

"The entire 1960s and 1970s funky nightclub scene was an incredible era in jazz," Bromberg says. " 'Chameleon' is one of the most classic funky jazz songs. How can you go wrong with Headhunters, or with Joe Zawinul's 'Mercy Mercy Mercy'? When you've got classic music, it's just so undeniably right."

"Downright Upright" isn't a nostalgic exercise -- its sound and energy are clearly of today. But in a low-key way, Bromberg is making a point by evoking a time when the constant urge of critics and audiences to categorize music came up against a wave of creative work that simply wouldn't comply. He says that "smooth" and "traditional" jazz advocates would do well to remember that time.

"There's too much judgment in life, in art, and in music," he says. "The two camps are getting further and further apart. I want to say: Slow down! Check it out! It's all good!"