Medeski, Martin and Wood

Comprised of denizens of New York's downtown jazz scene, the keys-bass-drums trio Medeski, Martin & Wood built a reputation as one of the most inventive jam bands of the '90s, the rare act that could entertain Phishheads one night and a fringe-jazz crowd the next.

The group's self-released debut, Notes From the Underground, shows why these three were in demand from the beginning: It's loaded with knotty jazz exchanges atop unusual rhythmic beds far from jazz orthodoxy. Keyboardist John Medeski serves as the primary soloist, and after this initial album he switched to organ (and, to a lesser degree, electric piano) to make touring easier. That sassy soul-jazz B3 sound defines It's a Jungle in Here, which moved an inch or two closer to the mainstream -- though the pairing of Thelonious Monk's "Bemsha Swing" with the Bob Marley standby "Lively Up Yourself" probably left reggae fans scratching their heads.

The group's commercial breakthrough comes with Friday Afternoon in the Universe, which remains a groove benchmark: Where MMW's followers were busy yammering over simple chord structures, these guys dig into pieces that are harmonically challenging, and like the best jazz groups, the crosstalk actually lifts tracks like the title tune higher. By the mid-'90s, the trio found itself collaborating with Phish and others far from jazz, and earned a certain amount of attention for recording the 1996 release Shack Man entirely in a jungle retreat in Maui.

Those collaborations -- particularly with DJ Logic, a regular presence at live shows -- became part of MMW's next project, the inspired Combustication, for Blue Note. Although many groups utilize DJs to provide hip-hop backgrounds, MMW treat Logic not just as a texture provider but as another solo voice, and some of the juiciest playing happens when the DJ has the floor.

This album sold well, and subsequently, MMW had no problem touring constantly. The trio's challenge was to come up with enough compelling material to put onto record. Tonic is a live acoustic date designed to show the group's abiding love for jazz improvisation. The Dropper finds the trio veering away from its cherished organ funk in different ways: There's some Latin jazz, bits of odd hip-hop-loop mangling, and several genre-blind, almost rawk solos from guitarist Marc Ribot. The experimental bent continues with Uninvisible, which moves from greasy, stock MMW Booker T send-ups to jarring instrumental hip-hop atmospherics to brassy world-beat horns to an ill-advised spoken word foray enunciated, in full gravely glory, by eccentric Southern rocker Col. Bruce Hampton. (TOM MOON)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide