MUSIC OF PAT METHENY is more than a tribute album—it’s a musical conversation across generations.
FMR Records
Bob Gluck – Keyboards; Christopher Dean Sullivan – Electric Bass; Karl Latham – Drums
You don’t usually think of Pat Metheny without a guitar in the picture. His tone, that warm, singing sound, is as central to his music as the melodies themselves. But the trio Transcendence takes a different path on MUSIC OF PAT METHENY. There’s no guitar here—just piano, electric bass, and drums—but what they’ve pulled off is surprisingly faithful to the emotional core of Metheny’s writing. They’re not trying to replicate the sound; they’re after the feeling, reimagining these tunes with a fresh kind of intimacy and edge.
Led by keyboardist-pianist and Metheny scholar Bob Gluck, Transcendence features bassist Christopher Dean Sullivan and drummer Karl Latham—two seasoned players with broad musical passports. Together, they tackle five Metheny tunes and one each by Herbie Hancock and Keith Jarrett. The concept sounds academic on paper, but what you hear is anything but. This is a living, breathing, adventurous trio session that balances reverence with reinvention.
They kick things off with ‘Question and Answer,’ which Metheny originally recorded in a straight-ahead trio with Charlie Haden and Roy Haynes. Gluck opts for acoustic piano here, leaning into the tune’s lyrical contours and throwing in some sharp-angled lines that bring to mind early Keith Jarrett. Sullivan and Latham stay close to the pulse without strangling it, giving Gluck room to roam while keeping everything anchored.
Metheny probably used his Roland GR-300 synth on ‘Afternoon’ from SPEAKING OF NOW (2001). Gluck gives it a lush, harmonically rich treatment, while Sullivan’s bass leans into guitar territory—fluid, melodic, and singing with a warmth that really suits the tune.
‘The Bat,’ a beautiful ballad from 80/81—takes on a moody, noir quality in Gluck’s hands. His piano casts shadows, hinting at danger or regret. Latham’s cymbals shimmer around the edges, adding texture to the drama. It’s a reminder that Metheny’s music has always told stories—not just through virtuosic solos or fancy gear, but through atmosphere and feeling.
The trio shifts gears completely when they turn to ‘Offramp’ and ‘Roof Dogs;’ Gluck swaps out the piano for the Roli Seaboard, an expressive electronic keyboard that lets him blur notes and bend tones like Metheny’s synth-processed guitar. Gluck doesn’t mimic Metheny’s phrasing; he reimagines it with a new vocabulary. It’s electric, slightly chaotic, and absolutely thrilling—not imitation, but translation.
The wild cards: Herbie Hancock’s ‘Dolphin Dance’ and Keith Jarrett’s ‘Everything That Lives Laments.’ The former is one of those tunes that feels both elegant and elusive—like it’s floating just a few inches above the ground. But it’s the Jarrett piece that really shines—it brings out the trio’s more introspective side. Sullivan’s bass solo on this track is one of the album’s high points: thoughtful, earthy, and emotionally direct without getting heavy-handed. It’s a beautiful closer.
It helps that Bob Gluck knows this music from the inside out. He’s just published PAT METHENY: STORIES BEYOND WORDS (University of Chicago Press), adding to previous books on Herbie Hancock and Miles Davis. But Gluck defies easy categorization—he’s pianist, composer, electronic music innovator, educator, writer, and rabbi all rolled into one.
Sullivan brings a melodic sensibility that recalls Charlie Haden’s poetic phrasing, while Latham—whose résumé spans from Dizzy Gillespie’s Afro-Latin bands to Johnny Winter—is that rare drummer who knows when to anchor and when to lift, creating space rather than just keeping time.
MUSIC OF PAT METHENY is more than a tribute album—it’s a musical conversation across generations. Metheny, Hancock, and Jarrett all pushed boundaries in their own ways, and this trio continues that spirit of exploration. They’re not looking to replace the originals. They’re inviting them into a new room.
