A highly respected post-bop trumpeter since his emergence alongside Jackie McLean in the 1960s, Charles Tolliver has recorded infrequently since the '90s, releasing several critically acclaimed big-band albums, including 2007's With Love and 2009's Emperor March: Live at the Blue Note. With 2020's Connect, Tolliver returns to a small-group format, offering an intimate, intensely expressive album that works as a dynamic counterpoint to his large-ensemble productions. Recorded by Tony Platt at London's RAK Studios, Connect evokes the driving hard bop of Tolliver's 1968 solo debut Paper Man. That album found him working with an all-star lineup featuring pianist Herbie Hancock, saxophonist Gary Bartz, bassist Ron Carter, and drummer Joe Chambers. Here he updates that roster with an equally capable group featuring alto saxophonist Jesse Davis, pianist Keith Brown, bassist Buster Williams, and drummer Lenny White. Also appearing on two tracks is British tenor saxophonist Binker Golding, known for his own soulfully progressive albums and equally funky work alongside London jazz luminaries Moses Boyd and Zara McFarlane. Tolliver leads his group through four of his original songs, including "Emperor March" and "Blue Soul," both of which he previously played on his big-band albums, and which he strips down to their raw essentials on Connect. These are infectious songs rife with dusky modal harmonies that Tolliver and his band exploit to their fullest. On "Blue Soul," altoist Davis cuts through the insistent tribal beat with his spiraling, brightly toned architectural lines. Similarly, on "Emperor March," Golding offers his own warm lines, jumping deftly off the song's thick chords before Davis interjects with his gymnastic asides. Known for his deeply thoughtful, if still adventurous approach to improvisation, Tolliver takes a more measured path, shifting deftly between burnished long tones and more clipped, bluesy phrases. It's a style he applies throughout Connect, crafting minimalist, rhythmically inventive lines that offer a deft contrast to his bandmates' more serpentine constructions. Equally engaging is "Copasetic," a roiling swinger that brings to mind the clubby '60s work of Lee Morgan. Closing the album is "Suspicion," a frenetic, cartoon-like song which begins with a deceptively low-key rubato bass intro before leaping off into a driving, klezmer-inspired piano and drum groove. Following Tolliver's lead, each soloist dives into the fray like dancers in the round, offering impassioned solo statements before leaping back into the ensemble's bubbling frenzy. It's this kind of rousing group aesthetic and unified intensity that makes Connect such a vital small-group companion to Tolliver's big-band work.