The New Orleans Moonshiners are among a pack of young groups struggling with the question of what it means to play traditional jazz in 2010. It’s a style with a deep conservative streak, having demonstrated its resilience through multiple periods of decline and resurgence. The group settles on a popular solution: mixing offbeat creations with traditionally executed standards, following their muses while assuring the listener that they know the traditions well.

To that end, the record brims with original compositions. Most fanciful among them is saxophonist Aurora Nealand’s “Bicycle Bird,” which imagines flying “up, up, and away” on “beautiful wings of spokes and strings”. Clockwork arrangements of bicycle bells and toy piano complete the mood. Another winner is trumpeter Gordon Au’s “Double Decker Rag,” a swell tune and a showcase for Teppei Tada’s rich tone on the clarinet. Of course, it wouldn’t be a Moonshiners record without an ode to illicitly distilled liquor. “Moonshine,” penned by banjoist Chris Edmunds, alternates plunky verses with a trembling, deranged chorus in which he sings of “losing [his] mind.”

And there are the aforementioned standards. On “That’s a Plenty,” the group shows off rhythmic precision in the midst of high-speed collective improvisation. “I’m Confessin’” mellows things down, but the same cohesion is evident in the subtle melodic counterpoint of the horns and winds.

There are a lot of fne musicians here. Nealand’s florid solos are by turns smooth and snarling. The Moonshiners have an excellent vocalist in Sarah Quintana, whose emotional immediacy is persuasive even in the midst of mawkish lyrics like “You’ve got the cutest little baby face.” At worst, the group sometimes feels like they’re holding back unnecessarily. At best, they excel in creating the atmosphere of controlled chaos that characterizes much successful trad jazz.