The new year's most exciting and thoughtful straight-ahead jazz album comes from one of the genre's most notable outsiders: Pat Metheny.

Erase whatever "80/81," "As Falls Wichita, So Falls Wichita Falls" image of him from your mind. Forget his white man 'fro, forget his lectures at Berklee, forget him backing up Joni Mitchell on her "Shadows and Light" tour. All noble pursuits, to be sure, but quickly shoved aside by the work on Trio 99—>00. It is a dazzling work of skill, feel and energy. It fits with Metheny's continuing search for new age beauty, but does so in a way that cooks. And I mean really cooks.

Metheny may well be the last man standing from the Chuck Mangione days of 80s fusion. He's stayed relevant, other than from the support of his egghead-ish fan base or his irrefutable chops, with two important albums in the 1990s. The first was "Zero Tolerance For Silence," a controversial work of avant-noise tailor made for East German industrial groups to sample from. Many found the album to be a complete waste of time, and while I agree it is difficult music, certainly not the stuff which gets pulled out of the personal collection with great regularity, I find it to be a great detached meditation on the guitar and its accepted language. The five minute "Part Four" of the "Zero Tolerance Suite" sounds to me like a playful commentary on overblown endings of live classic rock anthems (think the "what song is it you wanna' hear?" version of Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Free Bird".)

Metheny's other great work of the decade was the PBS-ready "Under the Missouri Sky" duet with his longtime collaborator Charlie Haden. An at-times wistful reflection on folk and country via jazz, sounding more like contemporary-classical than fusion or post-bop, it was a big hit with the Starbucks crowd and won as many awards as a record like that can.

Where else can Metheny go but back to basics? Basics by traditional standards, not by his own. I've never heard Metheny ever play this straight up before, and the change suits him. With Larry Grenadier on bass and the great young turk Bill Stewart on drums, they are a smart and enthusiastic group. Stewart, who released his own fine album of originals called "Snide Remarks" back in 1995, is aptly described by All Music Guide as having a sound which fluctuates between melancholy and hyperactivity. The opening cut, "(Go) Get It," presents this dichotomy with a sort of muted chaos. Metheny's fingering picks up on this, and zooms up and down the scales, pausing just long enough to wink with a chord or stray note. Metheny is surely showing off, as his speed-of-light delivery maintains a crispness virtually unattainable by any other living guitar player.

Oftentimes insane alacrity and speed comes at the expense of feel. The bluesy, neo-Monk construction "Soul Cowboy" should dispel this myth. It's full of swagger and ache, but still zips along in double time.

Similarly cooking is a no-nonsense rendition of Wayne Shorter's "Capricorn." Metheny and Stewart share the spotlight together, the air clean enough to do so with precision. Metheny stays playful, in a high register throughout, but knows just when to slip in that unforgiving note, slide or shocking strum. He's always been this much of a total master; he's just got that damned production out of the way this time.

The revelation on the album is a completely fresh take on John Coltrane's "Giant Steps." In the notes, Metheny writes how jazz artist have almost taken it as a game to see who can take Coltrane's classic and speed through it the quickest. Metheny reverses the current trend, slows it down and focuses on the progressions that made this tune the staple its now become. It's quite a shock; I hardly recognized it at first.

There are three cuts here that will play well to the fan of "Missouri Sky." "The Sun in Montreal" and "We Had A Sister" both consist of spooky, acoustic tones. They're both fully realized compositions, though. Perfect, concise melodies. On "Montreal," the bass and drum take on the texture similar to "It Must Be A Camel" from Zappa's "Hot Rats." Low, looping bass and pop-popping quiet rock drumming. The album closer, "Travels" is a remarkable standout track. An earlier composition by Metheny and his long-time collaborator Lyle Mays, it is not at all fitting with the bop of the rest of the album. It is an echo-y, perfectly crafted instrumental, sounding half Stephen Foster, half Jorma Kaukonen circa "Embryonic Journey." I've not heard the original, but knowing Mays was involved I'm willing to guess it included synths or high production. Stripped bare here it is nothing short of poetry.

If you couldn't tell from the above paragraphs, I've never been all that much in awe of Metheny's golden-year's work. I owned a copy of "Letter From Home" and later sold it when I was low on cash. But even though it's early in the year, I think I can safely say that "Trio 99—>00" will find a place in my top ten come December. It's a phenomenal piece of work, the first perfect album I've heard all year.