In case you couldn’t tell – from the fact that I’ve put it off as long as chronologically possible – I have problems with the whole Top Ten thing.

On the one hand, I realize the value of summarizing the past year; I realize this is an effective way of taking stock; and I realize people love to read (and argue about) a list of Top Ten anythings.

On the other hand, I always dread the weighing of one project against another; and the ache of cutting wonderful albums from the list; and the finality of going on the record with, yes, a list of Top Ten anythings.

What can I say? I’m a Libra. We like to balance things out.

I offer the annual caveat that my list does not comprise the ten albums I listened to the most in 2010: some music leaves a deep and memorable impression on the first hearing, but is so specific in its impact that it doesn’t fit every mood. And there are always a few discs that in the course of the year will grab my ear as guilty pleasures – but still don’t rise to the level of the ones I’ve chosen.

These albums also may be completely different from the ones you’d have picked, or the ones listed by my fellow critics in the Jazz Journalists Association – whose website, jazzhouse.org, contains scores of members’ Top Ten lists from around the world. Looking over the choices of my colleagues, I remember that the real value of this exercise lies in perusing as many lists as possible and using them as a guide to albums any of us may have missed in the last twelve months. (Compounding the problem is the fact that none of us can hope to hear, or even see, all of the perhaps 1500 jazz releases each year.)

My list does, however, contain 10 albums I’ll go the mat for, in terms of such virtues as invention, power, intellectual rigor, vision, and pure listening pleasure. All these discs combine those elements (to different degrees).  All in all, they are for me the ten most important jazz releases of 2010.  

I’ll count down numbers 10 through 7 today, with 6 through 4 coming Thursday, and the Top Three on Friday.  And next week, I’ll have a separate list of Top Ten releases by Chicago artists (two of whom appear on my overall Top Ten list as well).

#10 – Organissimo, Alive & Kickin’! (Big O Records). Sure, it’s just your basic organ trio, and yeah, it’s just a live album. But it’s the best organ trio you haven’t paid attention to; and it’s that rare live disc that combines the looseness of “live” with the command of a studio date. Based in Lansing (MI), Organissimo revels in the ensemble glory of 10 years as a hard-working ensemble: they play tunes that stop and start with skid-mark precision, and effortless grooves as tight as Dick Cheney’s smile. Their telepathic unity is strong enough to grab the spotlight from the talents of the soloists – an amazing fact considering organist Jim Alfredson’s mesmerizing technique and guitarist Joe Gloss’s deceptively simple lyricism. Add in the ridiculously funky drumming of Randy Marsh, and you end up with the best organ-jazz album of the year.
 

# 9 – Mike Reed’s People, Places & Things, Stories And Negotiations (482 Music). In 2008, the Chicago drummer and bandleader Mike Reed assembled a remarkable project for the Millennium Park’s “Made In Chicago” jazz series; it now serves as the finale for his trilogy of exploring a quirky history of post-war Chicago jazz. Like the first album in the trilogy (Proliferation), the program here focuses on forgotten compositions of the late 1950s; as with the second (About Us), Reed augments his regular quartet with several guests. But this time, most of the guests belong to the generation that played this music the first time around: trumpeter Arthur Hoyle, trombonist Julius Priester, and multi-instrumentalist Ira Sullivan (all of whom defined their early careers in mid-50s Chicago). The confluence of old music and younger musicians – along with artists who shaped both that music and these musicians – gives Stories And Negotiations an extraordinary resonance in addition to its brilliant and inspired performances.
 

# 8 – Danilo Pérez, Providencia (Mack Avenue). Each time Danilo Pérez enters a recording studio, it’s like a blessing just waiting to happen. His recorded output has varied in quality; but the Panamanian pianist and composer has so much unadulterated music rippling through his veins and synapses that when it fully coalesces – as on this album – you just stand back and smile. Even before his celebrated tenure in Wayne Shorter’s band, Pérez was renowned for his ambilateral mastery of both mainstream and Latin jazz. He merges these idioms on Providencia, but places renewed emphasis on Panamanian folk elements, arriving at his most compelling album in a decade – a whirlwind, multi-part, personal symphony that knits together the threads of his career. Augmenting his regular trio with saxist Rudresh Mahanthappa, vocalist Sara Serpa, and a wind quintet, Pérez strikes a balance between composition and improvisation that mirrors his merger of pan-American musical styles.
 

# 7 – Geof Bradfield, African Flowers (Origin). The Texas-born reedist had already established himself among the most accomplished and versatile musicians in Chicago, whether leading his own bands, as a CD sideman (with Kelly Brand, Aaron Koppel, John Moulder), and in performance with bands as divergent as the Chicago Jazz Ensemble and Ted Sirota’s Rebel Souls). But with African Flowers, Bradfield’s writing came to the fore, pushing this album into the top echelon – for me, at least. (I’m genuinely surprised it didn’t make more Top Ten lists around the country.) Bradfield’s refined use of instrumental colors allowed him to create orchestral textures from his sextet alone (no small thanks to the chameleonic guitar work of Jeff Parker). It also allowed him to translate the colors and flavors he encountered while touring Africa (in 2008) into evocative portraits, in the tradition of such previous geomusical travelers as Duke Ellington and Dave Brubeck.

Coming Thursday: numbers 6 through 4, plus a look at how my picks stack up with the annual Village Voice Jazz Poll.