The Neighborhood Quartet’s music is as varied as its members’ résumés—as improvisers, they’re adept at navigating jazz harmony; as writers they understand the shape of folklike melodies—but, if they had to be classified, you could say they pursue a distinctly midwestern take on the tradition of R&B and pop instrumental groups. On its self-titled debut album, the Neighborhood Quartet doesn’t explicitly sound like any of that—they aren’t retrogressive or imitative—but they tap into the tradition’s sensibility: sticky melodies laid on top of supple funk; clever, economical arrangements; tasty and succinct solos. For the group’s guitarist and lap-steel ace, Dan Schwartz, the NHQT has two principal modes, both evocative of motion: their groovy side, likened to cruising through the streets of the quartet’s native Twin Cities; and their ethereal side, likened to floating above the nearby prairie.
If you spend some time with the quartet’s music, you won’t be surprised to learn its members are in-demand players around and beyond the Twin Cities. Though the group’s members are, for now, best known as players, they’re distinctive writers and arrangers as well, as The Neighborhood Quartet demonstrates. Their tonal balance is impressive: their music is sometimes breezy, but never shallow; it can be contemplative, but never dour. They play together with a sympathy born both of deep listening and true friendship. Surely there’s music beyond dreams, and maybe some of it sounds like the Neighborhood Quartet.