Leave That In There doesn’t feel like a pianist looking backward so much as one rummaging through his own musical attic.
Artwork Records
Sullivan Fortner – Steinway D piano, synth, Hammond B3, vocals; Tyrone Allen II – double bass, Moog Sub 37; Kayvon Gordon – drums, percussion; Jack DeBoe – percussion, background vocals
Sullivan Fortner seems to be having fun throwing things into the pot and seeing what happens. Sometimes the music settles into a groove; sometimes it seems determined to kick the groove apart. Leave That In There is a restless, curious record, full of sounds that don’t always seem interested in behaving themselves.
Fortner has been around long enough to get away with that. Leave That In There is his sixth album as a leader, and along the way he’s won Grammys, including the 2026 award for Best Jazz Instrumental Album for Southern Nights. He has also worked with Cécile McLorin Salvant, Samara Joy, Roy Hargrove and plenty of other major players. He knows how to make a jazz record.
The working trio with bassist Tyrone Allen II and drummer Kayvon Gordon is at the center of the album, but synthesizers, Hammond B3, percussion, electronics and other textures keep appearing around them. What makes the record interesting is that Fortner doesn’t always smooth those elements into something comfortable. He lets them bump into each other.
“Sugarcane” starts with a steady click-clack percussion pattern, repetitive enough to become a little hypnotic. Then the marimba gets louder, the synthesizer takes up the melody and eventually becomes part of the percussion itself. The rhythm gets heavier without breaking the spell.
Repeating piano lines drive “Que Diablos,” growing more complex as percussion and countermelodies gather around them. The polyrhythms lock into a groove that feels unshakable — until the music fades and then, without warning, stops.
Two tracks later, things get physical. Tinkling electric piano, synthesizer, double bass and Hammond B3 seem to compete for space on “Swirl,” the organ hitting harder, smearing notes as the bass shoves the rhythm around. “Number 3” starts gentler — light percussion, piano, then a shuffle rhythm kicks in and acoustic and electric keys trade lines over a syncopated walking bass. It sounds like straight-ahead jazz until percussion and synthesizers start pulling at the seams, trying to dismember it.
The album’s two most unsettled moments sit near the end. On “A Hymn for Linda,” the keyboards swirl like a storm brewing — slow, ascending lines, light tinkling notes, voices so faint you’re not sure where they’re coming from. “Aria II” gets more physical: Fortner’s left hand pounds the same figure over and over, the bass locked in step, while the B3 pushes harder and harder against it.
Leave That In There doesn’t feel like a pianist looking backward so much as one rummaging through his own musical attic.
