The keyboardist and composer Wayne Horvitz lived and worked in New York City for most of the ’80s, when combining jazz with other kinds of popular or experimental languages, American or otherwise seemed exciting and almost imperative. There was a lot of the shock-of-the-new going on back then, and a lot of deference and homage to the history of the early ’60s New York avant-garde.
But Mr. Horvitz stood apart. He had an evened-out, coherent composing voice that contained bebop and rock, gospel hymns and country, free jazz and funk and midcentury film music and Charles Ives. There was very little posturing or provocation or wackiness in it. It didn’t feel like a stretch.