The Best Jazz Album of 2025 (So Far)
Plus, Frank Zappa, Thelonious Monk, and Memorial Day Musings
It’s Memorial Day—a time for reflection, remembering, and, if we’re lucky, a bit of sunshine. I hope wherever you’re reading this, there’s warmth in the air, music in the background, and a few hours of peace on the horizon.
Music, like memory, can blur the line between past and present. Today, I’ve got a few records that do precisely that. I’ve been meaning to recap a few recent Instagram posts here, and as previously promised, there’s more on the way. For now, consider this trio of excellence an ideal way to close your long weekend in style (and maybe a good excuse to sneak out and check the temperature on that brisket in the smoker while you browse Discogs).
Let’s not bury the lede: the first album here is hands down the best new jazz record featuring all new material I’ve heard in 2025. Whether you’re reading this with a drink in hand or just waiting for the side two flip, here are three records worth your time—one essential new release and two that have been keeping my stylus busy lately.
Sunsuke Fujieda Group Fukushima
A likely candidate for many 2025 year-end best lists—mine included. It’s one of those albums that seemed to come out of nowhere. I hadn’t heard a thing about it when my phone blew up with a blitzkrieg of FOMO messaging. Within 24 hours, I’d received DMs, texts, and emails telling me to order this record IMMEDIATELY or cry tears of remorse into my pillow of regret.
After more than a few trusted voices told me this was a future classic, I created an autoresponder that said, “Enough already! I bought it!” (which confused the hell out of the guy trying to sell me an extended car warranty).
It went straight to the top of the stack upon arrival so I could hear what all the fuss was about. After a quick cleaning, I settled in with low expectations, ready to be underwhelmed. I’ve seen this movie before. The words “limited edition” tied to independent spiritual jazz records can inspire groupthink like little else.
Boy, was I wrong.
Believe the hype. This is a fantastic recording, sonically (earthshaking) and musically (mind-expanding). Leader and composer Sinsuke Fujieda alternates between tenor and soprano sax, often trading exploratory lines with violinist Fumiko Takeshita.
Full disclosure: I’m picky about the violin in small combo jazz. I can’t exactly explain it—it’s just not usually my thing. Big band? Fusion? Sure. But in this context, it often rubs me the wrong way.
But here? It works. It really works. Takeshita’s playing is expressive and unexpected, adding tension and beauty in equal measure, making this album special.
Bassist Shigeru Kato lays it the f*ck down, with unshakable grooves, while drummer Kensaku Ohsumi handles the pulse and propulsion. Urgency and bounce are in pianist Shinichi Tsukamoto’s capable hands, making this a complete team effort. And they sound like they’re having a blast doing it.
Five tracks total: from the 10-minute modal/spiritual title piece to the brief, danceable closer “Perspective.” This is your jam if you’re into BBE J-Jazz compilations, Wamano Records, or the Jazzman Spiritual Jazz series. If Milestone-era McCoy Tyner (with Azar Lawrence) lights your fire or you enjoy chasing the Trane, you need this.
It’s a stone groove that’ll send you questing from your favorite recliner. Drop the needle and prepare for liftoff. Bandcamp has the digital edition—don't miss it!
Thelonious Monk Himself (2025 OJC reissue)
Thelonious Monk might not have invented the game Jenga, but Thelonious Himself makes a pretty strong case for an early prototype—if the game were made of notes instead of blocks.
Sitting alone at the piano, Monk works through a set of standards and originals, and then begins removing structural supports: steady time, linear phrasing, clean resolutions. What’s left is space, tension, and these strange harmonic inversions that feel like the whole thing might collapse. But Monk’s touch and timing keep it standing. Barely. Yet perfectly.
His splintered swing is hypnotic. And on this new Craft/OJC reissue, it sounds gorgeous. My 1984 Japanese pressing has officially been humbled.
This edition—cut by Kevin Gray at Cohearent, pressed at RTI, and housed in a tip-on Stoughton jacket—is flat, quiet, and detailed enough to make you forget everything but the music.
From the tantalizing opener “April in Paris” to Trane’s cameo on the closing “Monk’s Mood,” Thelonious Himself stands as one of the greatest and most revealing solo jazz piano records ever made.
Though it sits chronologically between Brilliant Corners and Monk’s Music, there’s no middle-child syndrome here. No sibling rivalry, either. This is part of a trio of excellence, and all three belong in every jazz library.
Spin them individually, in sequence, or binge them all in one go. You could listen for days and still uncover new angles. The depth of Monk’s music is immeasurable.
Frank Zappa & the Mothers Cheaper than Cheep
File this under “vault raids done right.”
After more than 50 years in limbo, Frank Zappa’s long-shelved 1974 TV special Cheaper Than Cheep—originally shot guerrilla-style inside his Sunset Boulevard rehearsal space—is finally getting its due. Conceived as a DIY clapback to the commercially slick, glossy music shows of the era, the footage was benched thanks to clunky mid-’70s A/V sync issues.
Three cheers for modern technology! Now, thanks to Ahmet Zappa, Vaultmeister Joe Travers, and the Zappa teams from the ZFT and Universal Music, it’s been restored, remastered, and reassembled into a proper release. You’ve got an array of options direct from the Zappa store: bundles, Blu-ray, 2CD, and 3LP configurations, all featuring liner notes by the great percussionist Ruth Underwood. Her reflections elevate this from “nice to have” to “essential”: insightful, candid, and historically grounded.
The set captures Zappa and his 1974 band in terrific form, blurring the line between rehearsal and performance, and making a bulletproof case for why this lineup is held in such high regard. It’s loose, it’s tight, it’s weird, it’s Zappa. The impeccable musicianship and occasional onstage chaos sounds GREAT.
Of course, because this is the Internet and a few Zappa stans don’t know how spoiled we are, some of those hardcore faithful initially scoffed. After all, this band is already well-represented, and there are still “grails” from ’74 that remain unreleased. But once the reviews dropped and the video footage started circulating, those skeptics folded like lawn chairs and pre-ordered like the rest of us.
This is a killer recording of a fantastic performance. Ruth mentions some mistakes in the liner notes, but watch the video and see if you can spot one. Then feel free to lodge a formal complaint with the Council of Zappa Completists. No need to leave a message. They’re always home.
Side note: Yes, Zappa’s 1973/1974 bands are beloved (some say the apex predators of Zappa outfits). Of the many live recordings from that year, my personal favorite is the November 20th show from the Apostrophe 50th Anniversary set, which recently knocked YCDTOSA Volume 2: The Helsinki Concert from the top of the mountain. Just sayin’.
Bottom line? The gig is hot, the vinyl sounds terrific, and the Blu-ray is a real draw—especially for the ATMOS mix, which adds even more dimension to an already immersive experience.
I’ve got some big projects brewing—more liner notes in the pipeline, a couple of archival surprises I can’t talk about just yet, and a few long-form Substack essays that are finally starting to take shape.
But it’s too nice a day to stay glued to a screen, and I’m guessing you’ve got better things to do than spend your holiday Monday reading a thousand more words from me. So I’ll leave you with these three picks, a grateful nod to those we remember today, and a promise to return soon with more music business analysis, news, and reviews.
Until next time!