It's been forty-four years since Bill Evans passed. Would it be naive to think in all that time there has been no one to surpass him in the art of jazz piano improvisation? We have seen Keith Jarrett's improvisational virtuosity and McCoy Tyner's muscular strides through a set of chord changes. We've seen more structurally cerebral players manipulate and experiment with the limits of aural legitimacy, testing out what our ears and brains are willing process as music. Countless great players deserving of our attention.
But for sheer lyricism? As I listen to Evans this morning, I have the sensation that his exploration of melody will leave me deeply satisfied. As if he were saying, "This is a beautiful melody. Let me show you the possibilities it contains while still letting it remain itself. That will be my gift."