Right in My Soul is something far more commercial, an R&B album of smooth jazz wrapped in pseudo-electronica beats and loops. Having added singing to her act a few albums back, Dulfer mainly focuses on vocal pop tunes, utilizing her saxophone for lite-funky asides. Some of the tracks are pleasant enough, featuring catchy, melodic hooks and passable improvisation, and even with the trite lyrical content this could have been, at worst, another average smooth jazz release from an artist who promises so much more — Dulfer was discovered by Prince and grew up listening to Sonny Rollins, for cryin' out loud. The real problem is the leaden, synthetic production which despite — or maybe because of — utilizing elements of electronic music styles such as jungle, drum'n'bass, and hip-hop jazz, comes off as pedestrian and ineffectual. Had Dulfer produced Right in My Soul ten years ago, it would have been hailed as innovative. Now, it sounds at least five years out of date.

Dressed in a white jumpsuit, legs crossed, sandy blond hair perfectly coiffed, and sitting in a comfy tan chair with her trusty alto sax, Candy Dulfer looks perfectly angelic on the cover of her third album, For the Love of You. Some of the goofy shots on the inside sleeve cast her in the more mischievous light of her almost lookalike Jenny McCarthy, but the overall packaging — and that dazzling smile — caresses the eyes with femininity. But her deeper musical dimensions are decidedly masculine. Once she starts to blow, Dulfer is as aggressive, gritty, and boisterous as her primary alto inspirations, David Sanborn and Maceo Parker. She also invokes the groove intensive rock-soul flavors of Prince, who enlisted Dulfer to play on numerous projects in the early '90s (when he was still Prince) after she played on the road with Pink Floyd — hardly a pastel-and-angora kind of pedigree. Anyone who dug Saxuality and its buoyant 1993 follow-up, Sax-A-Go-Go, knows Dulfer enters the party ready to cut loose, and won't be disappointed by the buoyant goings-on here. From the frisky jam "Saxy Mood" (on which Dulfer treats her horn as a percussive instrument) to the hypnotic, heavily looped invitation to "Gititon," For the Love of You is a big-hearted, festive affair, complete with vocal effects that simulate background conversations.

Alto saxophonist Candy Dulfer was brought into the limelight by Prince, who introduced her to the world via his video for "Partyman." Raised in a family heavily involved in the Dutch jazz scene, Dulfer is the daughter of Hans Dulfer, a respected jazz tenor saxophonist. Thanks to him, she listened to and studied the recordings of Sonny Rollins, Coleman Hawkins, and Dexter Gordon. He also introduced her to the stage early in life. When she was 12, she began playing in a band with Rosa King, an American expatriate who lived in Holland. Her career began by playing with brass bands but soon she was fronting her own band, Funky Stuff, who were invited to backup Madonna…

In the early '90s, Arista Records marketed Candy Dulfer in the much same way it would market a pop or rock singer and did everything it could to exploit the Dutch saxophonist's great looks. Unfortunately, the sexy publicity shots Arista sent out with her debut effort, Saxuality, were more impressive than the album itself — a forgettable R&B/pop/jazz recording that's smothered by excessive production. Though the R&B-ish compositions (many written by producer Ulco Bed) aren't bad, the highly predictable Dulfer consistently comes across as a poor man's David Sanborn and does very little improvising. A funk-influenced version of Miles Davis' "So What" might have been worthwhile, but is destroyed by its stiff production and Dulfer's refusal to improvise.

A splash of variety and all-star panache elevates Chuck Loeb's The Music Inside above the typical play it safe pop-jazz date. Smooth overall but just punchy enough in all the right spots, the disc tends to surprise at the very moment its grooves start sounding too comfortable. After a relaxing take on Babyface's languid "Breathe Again," for instance, Loeb goes the streetsmart bluesy route with the horn drenched "Steffi's Strut." Other cool continental shifts include a breezy Eastern tinge, a crazed Latin attitude with the help of Michel Camilo's trademark ivory bounce, and even tinges of classical influence. The very Sanbornesque ballad "Equal Time" features that notoriously brilliant soundalike, saxman Andy Snitzer, surrounded by the piano harmonics of Sanborn's old cohort Michael Colina. Nelson Rangell, Eddie Daniels and Mitchel Forman round out the celeb input in a setting which shows that while Loeb is stellar on both acoustic and electric strings, his greatest contribution to the genre is his compositional diversity.

Many smooth jazz artists view song titles as an afterthought, so it's refreshing to see guitarist Chuck Loeb play a romantic connect-the-dots with the names of the nine originals on The Moon, the Stars and the Setting Sun. Sure, it's a little corny to follow the sweet little tale strung together by ellipses (i.e. "…the stars…above us…shine on…while we speak…of love and the setting sun") but it gives us a glimpse into Loeb's mindset of this sharply played, generally laid-back project. Sometimes, the stroll is melancholy. Over floating synth washes, he generates a crying effect via lengthy acoustic notes, which are echoed by the subdued Sanborn-esque touches of Nelson Rangell (on the swaying James Taylor cover "Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight") and Andy Snitzer. Aware that listeners probably already know the sad lyrics, Loeb cries out over gentle synth drum beats on Boyz II Men's "Water Runs Dry." One of Loeb's trademarks is his ensemble-minded approach, and deferring to a lively two-minute Bob James keyboard solo on the Brazilian-flavored piece makes perfect sense; the disc offers the same sort of gently rhythmic flavors as a James-Earl Klugh collaboration.

One of the most versatile of all East Coast contemporary jazz guitarists, Chuck Loeb was equally inspired to play screaming fusion as he was to write hip radio-ready smooth jazz hits and sweet candlelit gems. This nice collection definitely focuses on the latter, highlighting his low-key acoustic and electric playing on songs culled from his seven Shanachie releases from 1996-2005. Although the first two tracks, simple and lush renditions of the Babyface tunes "Water Runs Dry" and "Breathe Again," pale in comparison to thoughtful and soulful originals like "Blue Kiss" and "New Life" (which features labelmate saxman and song co-writer Kim Waters), they show that Loeb was ahead of the curve in smooth jazz; when the format went cover happy in the early \2000s, it was Kirk Whalum who did the first all-Babyface recording The Babyface Songbook. True to his adventurous musical sensibilities, Loeb doesn't totally play it safe when he's romantic. The chill tune "Stained Glass" (originally from eBop) is driven by otherworldly percussion textures and a slow burning swirl of electric guitar and Randy Becker's trumpet. By design, The Love Song Collection is not aimed to please fans of Loeb's wilder side, but it's a great reminder of his ability to compose beautiful melodies.

Guitarist Chuck Loeb retreats slightly from the somewhat progressive nature of eBop on When I'm With You. While displaying more of his deft and charming guitar chops, the album is largely a by-the-numbers smooth jazz album. Where his previous effort combined some post-bop flair into his contemporary instrumental pop compositions, here we get a nice if predictable version of "The Girl From Ipanema," a pleasingly moody title-cut ballad with vocalist Carmen Cuesta and the funky, gospel-tinged slo-jam "And Then Some" featuring some supple sax moments. While the step-back is somewhat disappointing, longtime fans of Loeb should have nothing to complain about.

Chuck Loeb knows the secret to finding enduring success in the genre, even amidst growing competition by more and more up and coming guitarists who approximate his style: keep the listener guessing from tune to tune with unique stylistic and production curveballs. He's so effective at this that it's impossible to resist as he commands in the title of his new Shanachie disc: simply Listen. Keeping his crisp electric lines front and center, he darts and moves from the retro-soul clicking, synth strings and rising horn combination of "Silver Star" to the finger snap percussion, hypnotic cymbal rolls, Gary Keller flute harmony and Jim Beard's shimmering Fender Rhodes foundation on "High Five." It's a kick keeping up with his moodswings; Loeb restrains himself wrapping around Mark Egan's spacey basslines and Kim Waters' soprano on "Love Is All," then stirs up the frenetic fusion activity of "Right Down Broadway" with Mitch Forman's jump or else piano groove and more of those sassy horns. He even keeps a cover of Michael Jackson's "Rock With You" from slipping away into muzakville by shifting from hi to low string tones and trading off melody lines with Walter Beasley's alto.

Chuck Loeb's All There Is is proof that one can be a tasteful guitarist working in the often-derided smooth jazz style and still be capable of making albums that are more than just easy listening sludge. Recorded in a simple small-group setting with no extraneous "special guests" around to muddy up the sound, Loeb unspools ten originals and tasteful covers (none of the tacky '70s AM pop crossover attempts that marred 2001's In a Heartbeat) in a relaxed style that never quite gets mellow in the pejorative sense. Clearly inspired by Wes Montgomery and George Benson's work with Creed Taylor, Loeb steers clear of the pitfalls endemic to that style, maintaining melodic interest while never merely playing prettily. Even the Brazilian-influenced "Sarao," which flirts with Chuck Mangione-style disco-pop thanks to the utterly retro ARP synth line and cooing female vocals, maintains its integrity thanks to some trickily precise soloing by Loeb and a rhythm section that actually has a bit of funk to it. All There Is is not for those raised on a diet of Ornette Coleman and ESP, but there's a place for mood music, and this does it better than most. (www.allmusic.com)

Smooth jazz guitarist Chuck Loeb expands his characteristically mellow sound to include funk, dance, and various other electronic rhythms on eBop. While not as exploratory or funky as one might have hoped, it does evince an organic creativity uncommon to most smooth jazz releases. Loeb is a talented musician often calling to mind the work of George Benson and Wes Montgomery, and his playing is impressive here. Similarly, such stellar guest artists as post-bop tenor saxophonist Chris Potter and trumpeter Randy Brecker help propel the somewhat average programmed groove tracks beyond the norm (www.allmusic.com)