Rob Levit is an accomplished guitarist. Actually, he’s also an accomplished composer, visual artist, educator, and poet/essayist. His new record, "Uncertain Path", is adorned with his own artwork and is nearly as ambitious musically as he seems to be personally. It’s a trio record featuring Levit’s writing/playing, and includes Amy Shook on bass and Frank Russo on drums. As some of the pieces have Levit overdubbed playing ‘extra’ parts on guitar, some of the tunes are, in reality, ‘quartets’ pieces. They cut a wide swath: original compositions, covers of pop tunes, jazz/rock playing, moments of near ‘smooth’ jazz, ECM-ish ‘washy’ pieces, some relatively long form compositions, loads of guitar effects, straight-ahead pieces, and a few somewhat free/open sections. It boils down to one of two possible outcomes when an artist stretches this far stylistically in one outing: 1) the music strains from the extra energy exerted from reaching too high in too many directions at once, or 2) it is somehow pulled off naturally and flows as if it’s all coming from one place, and not a hodgepodge. For all the excellent musicianship and feeling these players put into this recording, I fear this record is closer to the first of these two outcomes.

Ten of the thirteen tracks on the CD are originals from Levit. Many of them are quite subdued in nature and nearly ‘through-composed’; not just your average A-A-B-A formats. Levit’s writing tends toward long phrases which come off as counterpoint because the bass parts are interestingly written as well. This is Levit’s strength, and there are many interesting melodies, harmonies, odd meters, and forms on the record. Some influences are apparent: Abercrombie, Metheny, even Kenny Wheeler possibly, but the writing on the disc is the most original thing going. It’s not always completely successful, but it’s far from completely derivative.

The title track is one of the more successful pieces on the record, despite the contradictory title. Most of the tune, as in the rest of the record, is heavily composed. The solo section of the tune is where we come across some ‘uncertainty’ to which Levit may be referring. This happens throughout the record: relatively long, involved set-ups leading to somewhat ‘open’ space for solos. Levit’s solo on the title track is one of his better efforts, clearly influenced by Abercrombie and very lyrical at times. Switching from a cleaner sound to a ‘distortion’ sound, he stretches out in some nice directions and interplay with the group. With some interesting ‘inside/outside’ ideas, legato phrasing, and good control of his effects, this tune comes off very well. However, at some other points in the record, his use of effects and ‘rock’ playing, while somewhat ‘virtuostic’, come off as forced and abrupt. The most successful piece on the CD is also the longest, "Sophia/Solace". Very atmospheric and compositionally restlessly in nature, this tune gets to a lot of different places yet remains well integrated. A feat which is not accomplished on all of the other material. One of the aspects that makes this piece more successful than some of the others is that after the long set up, it doesn’t give way to another ‘static’ solo section. The solo space for this piece moves harmonically so the forward motion of the piece keeps pushing forward. Levit plays another strong, ‘Abercrombie-tinged’ solo through these changes.

Much of the rest of the CD’s material is like a "land of the misfit toys" for tunes: Pieces that are written and performed well enough, but just never seem to get where they’re going. The covers of pop tunes (Sting, Marley) come dangerously close to being smooth jazz. On the Sting tune, there’s a nice turn from Amy Shook, and good playing from Levit again in the ‘open’ section he inserts, but it’s just not enough to make the version something to seek out. If his group is in your town, it would probably be a worthwhile show to check out. But "Uncertain Path" seems to be enjoying a pleasant trip out at sea between two large land masses: ECM island and Port Sonny Sharrock, tacking between the two, and not knowing which direction is home.