Mercy We Need is the second full-length album from Chicago pianist and composer Julian Davis Reid and his spiritual jazz quintet, Circle of Trust. Reid leads from the piano, joined by Tramaine Parker on vocals, Lenard Simpson on alto saxophone, Ethan Philion on bass, and James Russell Sims on drums, with Eva Supreme, Demond Read, and Lenard Simpson contributing background vocals across several tracks. Across eight compositions and fifty-five minutes, the record blends modal jazz, gospel warmth, and hymnody into a “cinematic exploration of the mercies we know we need and the ones we can’t yet name.” The captivating album artwork is by Dr. Jasmine Reid, with layout design by Spencer Cole Porter; the record is as much a joy to look at as it is to listen to.
A few highlights:
“Not Yet Home” is a thoughtful, piano-driven opener that signals from the outset that this is introspective, contemplative music. The composition feels cinematic in scale — its quieter, close-up moments function like a cinematic close-up, amplifying not just the sound but the idea behind it.
“Her Care a Gift” opens with a string bass intro that gives the track a warm, grounded entrance before the band layers in. Once Tramaine Parker’s voice enters, it functions as a true equal to the other instruments — matching the piano and sax in both power and nuance, rather than simply sitting on top as a featured vocal.
“Farewell, Hello Again” is a whimsical turn after the weightier opening tracks, leaning more fully into improvisational, swinging jazz — a track that scratches the jazz itch.
“Moan” gives Tramaine Parker’s voice room to expand and contract, both musically and emotionally, with a solo moment that sustains an entire song. Her instrument is such that no lyric is needed to convey the emotion on display — the moan itself becomes the language.
“Mercy We Need” feels instantly healing. Written as a tribute to Tramaine Parker’s late mother, Mama Millie Parker, it becomes a prayer that holds both personal grief and something more collective — a striking example of music as ministry.
“It’s Time, My Friend” offers redemption after the title track’s heavy prayer — a little bit of release, a little bit of resolution, and a little of the healing still unfolding.
“What’s Going On / Everybody Wants to Rule the World” might be a surprising pairing at first, but with a sense of space between the two songs that gradually diminishes as the track progresses until they become one unified event, it succeeds. For listeners who love both songs in their original form, the creativity of these new renditions — so unlike the originals — is genuinely exciting to hear.
The closer, “Memory,” features Tramaine Parker once more, delivering a song of promise and hope that completes the album’s intended arc.
“Mercy We Need” reveals itself as an album willing to go straight to the center of the emotional rink, where so much jazz only skates the edges. From the introspective opener “Not Yet Home” through the raw power of “Moan,” to the title track’s prayer, this is music functioning as ministry. In a world that could use these songs, Mercy We Need lands as a quietly essential record.
