Bob DeVos

To grasp the physics of what makes the jazz guitar of Bob DeVos click, you can invoke names like Grant Green and Wes Montgomery, key ancestry of the fat-toned progressive coolness that DeVos embraces. But to really get at what it is that DeVos does, you need to understand the Hammond B-3 organ. It is a huffing bear of an instrument that sounds as if it has a real heart and lungs for all the funk a single note can layer into a song. The B-3 growl is heard in the church and on the rock stage, in the blues bar, behind soul music of every stripe, and in jazz.

Organ jazz had its day, the golden era of which ran out during the '80s and primarily in East Coast nightclubs. But as rich and perfect an instrument as a Hammond B-3 may be in a jazz combo, it falls flat without a guitar, and this is where Bob DeVos comes in.

DeVos came of age playing behind B-3 jazz greats like Trudy Pitts and Jimmy McGriff and Charles Earland. A guitarist in an organ combo is a busy guy; the players DeVos worked for were the kinds of old-schoolers who rarely worked from set lists but simply launched into tunes and expected their sidemen to follow along. DeVos was suited for that work. At 12, he was teaching himself to play guitar leads by listening to records, a common and effective, if nonacademic, way to learn an instrument.

That said, DeVos seems less a guitarist than a horn player. His solos breathe like loopy bebop horn patterns, and he comps (plays rhythm while the organ takes a solo) along the lines of a pianist. When mated to DeVos' Zen-like fretboard interplay, the textures of the Hammond define an instant sense of culture. If there is a B-3 organ trio revival about to happen, this is it.