Notable CDs

Even in his 70s, this pioneering fusion guitarist is pushing himself, feeling out nooks and crannies lest he may have missed something the first, second, or third time around. When George Brooks applies his saxophone, the feel tends to lighten. But when Mike Hughes’ drums and Matt Montgomery’s bass jut out (the title cut and “Sharing Air,” for instance), the feel gets heavy indeed, with Coryell skronking, wah-wah-ing, and soloing as if he still remembers the ’60s in general and “The Jam with Albert” in particular.

Imaginary Cities

“I didn’t want a classical-meets-jazz feeling,” the saxophonist-clarinetist Chris Potter has said. “I wanted it all to be completely integrated.” He and his orchestra (actually a jazz sextet plus a string quartet) succeed on both counts. Would the four (of eight) mysteriously expansive cuts that comprise the title suite sound of a piece without their titles (“Imaginary Cities, Pt. 1: Compassion,” “Imaginary Cities, Pt. 2: Dualities,” etc.)? Maybe not, but they’d still provide a welcome sense of utopia (New Jerusalems?) in these dystopia-obsessed times.

Time and the River

A pop-fusion/smooth-jazz patina still adheres to Sanborn’s music, but there’s a world, maybe even a solar system, of difference between him and Kenny G. And although the vocalist showcases (“The Windmills of Your Mind” featuring Randy Crawford, “Can’t Get Next to You” featuring Larry Braggs) feel more like ringers than facilitators of the titular flow, a flow does develop, and Sanborn does more than just go with it. Sometimes it’s even hard to tell whether the bassist Marcus Miller is pushing him or vice versa.

That Lovin' Feeling

Tyrell’s performances of these oldies fall somewhere between Las Vegas and Branson, and a few fall flat. But the fact that they’re neither Vegas nor Branson gives them an edge sufficient to keep them from being mistaken for the kitsch with which they flirt but with which they ultimately play hard to get. Getting a Righteous Brother to sing with him on “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” was a good idea. Getting B.J. Thomas to sing with him on “Rock and Roll Lullaby” was a great one.

Spotlight

Capitol/UMe has jump-started the celebration of Frank Sinatra’s 100th birthday with Ultimate Sinatra, a four-disc-plus-book collection spanning 40 years of Sinatra recordings. It begins with the career-inaugurating “All or Nothing at All” from 1939 and ends with a previously unreleased 1979 rendition of “Surrey with the Fringe on Top.” The 99 intervening hits and deep cuts split the difference between emphasizing Sinatra’s most consistently great decade (the 1950s) and masking the unevenness to which he was increasingly prone as time went by.

Dive in anywhere, and you’ll be entertained. Absorb the music in long chronological stretches, and you’ll hear why it’s barely an exaggeration to say that, while the two coexisted, Sinatra was America and America was Sinatra. Devotees will quibble over the inclusion of certain tracks at the expense of others. They will agree that those others should have definitely included one or two from 1981’s underrated She Shot Me Down. —A.O.