By Hunter Pope

“Ooooh, my gawd, you haven’t heard the new John Scofield?” my friend asked as his bulbous eyes looked ready to launch out of his sockets.

“No, I haven’t,” I responded for perhaps the twelfth time in a matter of an hour. Overall, I had probably given the negatory to him over a hundred times. The conversation about John Scofield’s new album “Uberjam” (German for “super jam”) had sprouted from my buddy’s lips more than the weeds in my unkempt lawn. Anything would trigger the conversation. We’d be hiking in a field:

“Have you got to listen to the new Scofield, yet?”

“No, I haven’t”

“Oh, My gawd!”

If we ran into anybody named John ...

“Are you sure you haven’t heard the new John Scofield?”

A guitar in a music store window, a map of Germany, anything would bring it up. I knew I had to listen to it, but I had a response similar to the one I felt when the “Titanic” was at the movies. The more someone told me I had to see it, the less I wanted to.

Which is not fair to the great guitarist Scofield, a man who once did a three and a half year gig with the enigmatic Miles Davis. The greats all requested his silky fingers — Charles Mingus, Herbie Hancock, Chet Baker, Gary Burton, and Billy Cobham.

I also chided myself because I was ignoring a guitarist who is considered one of the “Big Three” of modern jazz guitar (alongside Pat Metheny and Bill Frisell). But perhaps his greatest trait is a constant willingness to tweak his sound. His travels across the ever-changing geography of the jazz world have led him to young musicians who have the same penchant for constant change.

His 1997 solo album, “A Go-Go” with Medeski, Martin and Wood — a jazz trio who attracts a mish mash of hippie groove crowds and martini-slurping jazz aficionados — opened Scofield to the jam band scene. His subsequent tour with MMW made him realize that a new revolution of players was looking beyond the money and hordes of groupies. Bands like MMW were prying open the sounds that the jazz greats had once excavated. Scofield wanted to be part of this new wave, a sort of hip father figure for all the improv upstarts.

“The cool thing about jazz-rock is that it is still evolving, via the jam band scene right now,” said Scofield to Benjy Eisen. “Whether you call it jazz-rock, electronica, whatever the f*** you call it, I see the new music of today as an extension of the stuff that started with Miles and Bitches Brew and everything. And it is, actually. And the verdict is not out on it yet because it’s not over. It’s got a whole new rebirth happening in this century, and it’s really cool to see where it’s going at this moment. I’m glad to be part of it.”

He had finally found a niche after being on the scene for almost 30 years. Staunch jazz critics had never warmed to Scofield’s unique sound:

“To tell you the truth, my music has always gotten some shit in the jazz world,” he lightheartedly told Eisen. “It’s always been a little too rocked out, even my straight-ahead stuff, because jazz purists tend to be really pure.”

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to buy something I knew would be stunning. I had seen Scofield a year before, and was blown away not just by him, but by the band he had in tow. Avi Bortnick is a rhythm guitar sage. Born in Israel, Bortnick attended the University of California at Berkeley and later completed a graduate program in architectural acoustics at the University of Florida. His day job as an acoustical consultant for Thorburn Associates was halted when the jazz guitarist Charlie Hunter recommended Bortnick to Scofield. Avi flew to New York in early 2000 and the elder immediately knew he had a kindred performer in Bortnick.

The night I saw the John Scofield band, words flitted around the bar about Scofield calling his rhythm guitarist one of the best he had ever seen. My initial reaction had me searching for my jaw among the sea of legs on the dancefloor. Not only does Bortnick slap down a mean rhythm, but he also has a sampler that allows him to play loops amidst the volley of guitars. Dually, I was treated to a lesson in jazz history, while catching a glimpse of the future. Electronic sampling is here to stay, and its constant dissection by musicians like Bortnick has led electronica into the improv territory of modern jazz.

Bass player Jesse Murphy has such command of his instrument that Scofield likened him to a servant of law enforcement:

“Jesse is the most intuitive and like-minded bass player that I’ve played with in a long time,” said Scofield in the press release. “He is truly eclectic musically; he knows and appreciates so many different styles. He has the perfect temperament for a bassist — boundless energy blended with the directed focus of a traffic cop.”

Those of you who are familiar with the Average White Band might recognize drummer Adam Deitch. The newest member of the quartet, Deitch has found a cozy domicile because of his regular assembly line of ideas.

“I’ve worked with all kinds of great drummers, but I knew I found the right guy the first time I played with Adam,” said Scofield. “ He’d been anchoring down the current version of the Average White Band, which tells you something about his groove. He throws ideas at you all night long.”

... Still, I had some kind of inner barricade that prevented me from getting “uberjam.” My friend had certainly played it (eight million times) enough to harness my attention. “uberjam” is one of those rare finds where each song vies for a different personality but at the same time knows how to please a timeline of jazz listeners.

Besides his outstanding band mates, Scofield called on keyboard lunatic John Medeski and jazz colossus Karl Denson to “fill in” on a couple of tunes (which my buddy told me anytime we heard a Medeski or Karl Denson album). These “fillers” are perhaps some of the better songs on the album. The opening tune, “Acidhead,” evokes images of India. The sitar lightly infiltrates the mood creating a dreamy state before the band launches into some serious grooves. Bortnick does his best “SuperFly” riff interpretations as Scofield searches for that spiritual aloofness. “Acidhead” is all about experimentation, and the listener will pick something new up each time.

“Ideofunk” (which also features Medeski and Denson) is catchy, and it will probably take hypnotism to get the song permanently out of your head. Medeski and Scofield are especially sinister here, each performer trying to outdo the other. Once they reach the peak of no return (and there are a couple), Mr. Denson adds a flute to the din, creating mellow stabs among passionate funk.

“Jungle Fiction” treads between past and future. Scofield gives us every lick he’s knows for before letting Bortnick loose on the samplers. The elder seems quite cozy in this electronica environment, and his guitar rides every technical wave with fluidity.

“I Brake For Monster Booty” commands my finger to the fast forward button each time. The song isn’t that bad until, like an unexpected cloudburst, drummer Adam Deitch decides to do a little rapping (which are the only lyrics on an otherwise instrumental album). Avoid this song, unless you like a helping of taint on spectacular records.

Perhaps my favorite (for the time being) is “Snap Crackle Pop.” Bortnick is a beast on this song, deftly sliding in between his rhythm guitar and sampling machine. Scofield pops out a little bit on this number, but it’s definitely Bortnick who puppet strings this tune. Oh, and we get an hors d’oeuvre of Deitch’s over the top drumming. Not lengthy by any respect, but his minuscule drum solo warrants a couple of gasps.

The title track is some serious stuff. The samples are done tastefully and lend habanero to an already scorching number. Fast paced and full of funk (Bortnick’s rhythm riffs would make Isaac Hayes salute), Scofield unleashes on this number, not letting up until the track finally calls uncle at the 7-minute mark. And once again, the classics have bedded down with the lusty electronica — listen carefully, and you’ll hear traces of “Blue Moon” in the song. This tune is an excellent representation of where John Scofield is in his musical life while represening the risks that he’s willing to make, and he fervently believes that his old mentor would approve of his jazz “hybrid.”

“Almost every interviewer asks me about my past experience with Miles Davis,” said Scofield in a past interview. “I have to say that out of all the albums I’ve made, I think this is the one that Miles would have enjoyed the most. Miles’ spirit is in this music. He was always looking to take jazz to a new place.”

Did I ever buy “uberjam?” Secretly, I purchased it miles away in a remote used CD bin. I wanted my own experience and not someone saying, “Do you remember Track 2 at minute 2:13? I’m telling ya, bro, you got to hear that!” Luckily, when I reached home, I was not disturbed (cut phone line, padlocked door), and I got to experience “uberjam” on my own reconnaissance.

My thoughts? Duuuude, you got to make the purchase. I can’t buu-lieve you haven’t bought it yet. You absolutely, definitely, positively have to buy this album. In fact, buy it a couple of times in case you lose one. Or ... I can send my trusty friend over.

(Hunter Pope writes about entertainment for The Smoky Mountain News. He can be reached at w.h.pope@worldnet.att.net)