Review by Des Cowley.
Peter O’Mara Prime Time Quintet – Live At The Jazzlab (ABC Jazz, digital release)
Michael Tortoni’s club, the Jazzlab – located in Brunswick – is a continuation of its long-running predecessor Bennett’s Lane, once described by Lonely Planet as “the world’s best jazz club”. Between them, the two venues have chalked up more than thirty-years continuous music; that’s a lot of water under the bridge. During that time, the clubs have played host to several generations of local and international artists, and yielded a handful of seminal live recordings by Jex Saarelaht, Rob Burke and Tony Gould, Allan Browne, Andrea Keller, Michelle Nicolle and others. If phrases like ‘Live at Bennett’s Lane’ or ‘Live at the Jazzlab’ don’t hold the same cachet as ‘Live at the Village Vanguard’ (Coltrane, Bill Evans, Sonny Rollins, Joe Henderson), then they probably should.
Guitarist Peter O’Mara came armed and ready to the Jazzlab on 6 March 2025, primed to record a live album there with his heavyweight quintet: saxophonist Julien Wilson, trumpeter Paul Williamson, bassist Nick Haywood, and drummer Felix Bloxsom. Granted, O’Mara’s career has been a bit under the radar locally, but that’s because the Sydney-born guitarist has been mostly based in Germany since 1981. His impressive track record speaks for itself, encompassing performances and recordings with the likes of Joe Lovano, Dave Holland, Kenny Wheeler, Albert Mangelsdorff, Randy Brecker, Terri Lyne Carrington.
The name of O’Mara’s band, Prime Time, presents something of a mystery, given the phrase’s long-term association with Ornette Coleman’s funk-driven harmolodic music, itself a far cry from O’Mara’s brand of hard bop. But let’s not be waylaid by trifles. The album kicks off with ‘Acentric’, a mid-tempo swinger that bears all the hallmarks of a classic Blue Note recording. The horns lock in tightly, doling out a rollicking, gnarly theme that sets the scene for Wilson’s punchy solo, flush with an easy-going warmth that recalls players like Dexter Gordon. Then it’s trumpeter Williamson, who darts and weaves across the groove, before O’Mara – who’s been content to comp in the wings – nestles in, injecting clean, fluid lines that hint at the classic style of players like Kenny Burrell, or Wes Montgomery.
Next up is ‘Scufflin’, which plays out just as it sounds, a hard-grinding shuffle-boil that could have been lifted from a mid-sixties Art Blakey outing (if Grant Green was sitting in). O’Mara’s guitar dances gracefully over bass and percussion, paving the way for Williamson’s smoking trumpet, and Wilson’s brawny sax, gritty and soulful. All-up, there’s a cool veneer to this piece, sustained by a steady beat that harbours skulking shades of blues and a funky grind. It’s followed by ‘Peace, Please’, a gorgeous ballad that shows off O’Mara’s beautiful tone, accompanied by mournful and elegiac horns.
There’s a subtle shift with ‘Crossing Over’, the tell-tale signs detectable in Williamson’s dark tones that ratchet up the intensity, loose, baggy, and fleet-footed. Haywood and Bloxsom meanwhile lay down flexible and nimble guidelines, encouraging the soloists to stretch out, scaling up the energy.
‘Mirage’, by contrast, is a slow-burn piece, spun from a subdued bass groove, wedded to an arresting theme. O’Mara injects plenty of behind-the-scenes colour, while Williamson chisels out furious, short bursts, as if squeezing his notes through a funnel. ‘It Is What It Is’, a standout track, maintains the slow-burn mode, its electrifyingly and endearing melody paving the way for Wilson’s tender-hearted sax, and O’Mara’s wistful guitar. There’s a sense that O’Mara is pushing the template with these pieces, nudging the music into emotionally starker territory.
The title track is hinged on a driving hard bop theme, a springboard for Wilson, whose burly sax feints and weaves like a prize fighter. Williamson, by turn, offers a melodic counter, before building his own head of steam, full of mercurial undercurrents. Bloxsom’s drums are to the fore throughout, a propulsive bustle that galvanizes O’Mara’s guitar to dizzying heights. ‘Wang Thang’, which rounds out the album, is grounded in a slow, hypnotic groove, prompting the horns to stretch out over a solid, rhythmic beat. Primed to the max, the band’s chops are on full display, with O’Mara digging deep, his playing full of colour, as he goes full-tilt, before ceding to Wilson, whose ferocious swings tip toward a free jazz wig-out. It makes for a heady finale.
O’Mara didn’t come to the Jazzlab to push boundaries, to break fences. His interests lie elsewhere, more attuned to keeping the hard bop spirit alive, as pioneered by labels like Blue Note and Riverside. But it’s also the case he’s not just replicating an existing blueprint. There’s a raggedy edge to this music, it displays a willingness to re-mould and re-fashion tradition, drawing upon a contemporary vernacular. In this endeavour, he’s been aided by some of our finest players, who patently brought their game-faces to proceedings, interpreting O’Mara’s compositions with flair and fearsome dedication. The upshot is an hour of punchy grooves, interlaced with occasional ballads and melodic stopovers, the infectiousness of which rarely saps or lets up.