Playing before a mass of quasi-hip college students nursing mojitos and flicking cell phones, Anthony plays notes that he leaves out in the cold for awhile, then picks up later – a blend of octaves and chord progressions. Slowly, a saxophone player and a drummer begin to fill in around him, and by ten-fifteen, the trio is off on some kind of hyper and wiry roundabout. His dreadlocks, slightly graying, dance at the ends when he leans into the microphone.  The improvisation of jazz is that it i...