No, I'm not talking about volume, but about musicality. Malone can play fast and furious, as he does on "Mugshot," the blistering original that opens the album. On the title track, the guitarist dives headlong into the funky, bluesy riff that is equal parts Prince and BB King. Harmonic complexities don't seem to bother him, either, as he deftly negotiates Thelonious Monk's angular "Bright Mississippi." He can even fly solo, as he does on a surprisingly fresh reading of "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot."

The current single off of "Sunday 8PM" is "God Is a DJ"—in which Maxi Jazz declares God to be a DJ, and the church the ultimate dancefloor—might just be the golden nugget that turns this adored Brit band into a stateside phenomenon. With its gothic keys and "This is my church/this where I heal my hurts" refrain, the anthemesque dance tune has ridden high on both club sound systems and dance charts. "Sunday 8PM" is rife with other nice surprises—the Boy George cameo on "Why Go?," the intermittent gospel choruses and string section interludes, as well as riffs from guest guitarist and labelmate Dido (who has his own album coming out in the new year). Maxi Jazz's raspy, resonant voice often blends in like another instrument, though his worldly, somewhat sinister lyrics have a certain piercing capacity—"My world is everything I've become/contained in the hum between voice and drum/I'm comin' from the same place I'm still runnin' from/but even sitting in the garden one can still get stung" (from "Bring My Family Back"). Though once dubbed one of the world's worst rappers by the British magazine, Mixmag, he's learned to ignore aggressive typecasting and hone his individualistic skills.

Well, perhaps I exaggerate (or at least beat a lame sports metaphor to death) but "Trio Fascination" is a thrilling trinity, an exploration of the magic number three. It makes sense—his last album, "Flying Colors," was a duo recording with Cuban pianist Gonzalo Rubalcaba. On this outing, Lovano forgoes the piano altogether, opting instead for the more unorthodox lineup of saxophone, drums, and bass. As a result, there is lots of space for him to work with, and, not surprisingly, he makes the most of it, as do bassist Dave Holland and drummer Elvin Jones.

Both Holland and Jones made names for themselves playing alongside giants (Miles Davis and John Coltrane, respectively), and consequently, neither has any trouble keeping up with Lovano. Holland's playing has always been rock-solid and impeccably tasteful, and he continues mining this rich vein. Behind the kit, Jones tends to be more of a force of nature than a drummer—and I mean that in the best possible sense—but his playing here is subdued, more expansive than explosive, like the gathering of clouds rather than a downpour and the results are electrifying.

Lovano's playing (on a variety of horns, including tenor, soprano, and straight alto saxophone and alto clarinet) is magnificent throughout—from the honks, bleats, and squeals of "New York Fascination" to the long, fluid runs of "Villa Paradiso." On "Eternal Joy," he takes a simple four-note riff and pushes it to its not-so logical conclusion. Nine of the ten tracks are originals, the sole standard being "Ghost of a Chance," on which Lovano perfectly captures the ephemeral essence of the song by hinting at the melody in whispers and murmurs.