I have mixed feelings about Harry Connick, Jr. The jazz lover in me often pleads with other aficionado's to not shoot the innovative piano player, but please off the reckless crooner Connick tries to be.

Fortunately, Connick sticks to the ivories in his more lucid moments and on his latest effort, Chanson du Vieux Carré, he makes his grand piano perform wondrous magic along with his sensational big band.

Chanson du Vieux Carré is a tribute to New Orleans and the cross cultural hybrid of blues, old time spirituals, and honky-tonk that earned the moniker of New Orleans jazz. Connick and his band rip several pages from past giants such as Louis Armstrong and the Preservation Hall Jazz Band to make Chanson, however, this doesn't diminish the amazing power and overflowing spirit that lifts Chanson du Vieux Carré to masterpiece status.

Like many of Connick's past big band efforts, he is nearly imperceptible, working as a small piece of an ensemble musical landscape. The band features some incredible players, including regular Arthur Latin on drums, Dave Schumacher on baritone saxophone, Mark Mullins, Craig Klein, John Allred, and the incomparable Lucien Barbarin on trombones, Jerry Weldon and Mike Karn on tenor sax, and the steady backbeat of Neil Caine's standup bass. Together, they navigate the salty waters of standards like Armstrong's "Someday You'll Be Sorry," Sidney Bechet's "Petite Fleur," Hoagy Carmichael's "New Orleans," and Sammy Cahn's "I Still Get Jealous"; plus about half dozen of Connick's original compositions. Each song is arranged brilliantly, making the most of the steamy sensuality of Crescent City jazz.

It's hard to know where not to recommend this album, but standout performances include Barbarin's vocal and solo trombone tracks on Connick original "Luscious", the unexpected horn blasts on "Someday You'll be Sorry," and the jump up and shout enthusiasm of the final track "Mardi Gras in New Orleans." The entire album succeeds in weaving a voodoo spell that will have jazz fans grooving zombie-like under its myriad charms.

Connick himself finds a groove too, and is smart not to hog the show with his solo work. When he does solo, it's simple and non-obtrusive, showing a great loyalty to the sound that has captivated him since childhood.

If all of that's not enough to convince you to buy this album, then you should also know that the profit from this album will go to building an old musicians home in the lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans, and to help with the reconstruction of the area in general.

So as much as I'd like to see Harry Connick the singer laid to rest, the pianist has made a huge contribution to jazz preservation with Chanson du Vieux Carré. In so doing, he has earned his place among the legends of the musical form, and for the heart that has driven him to make this album.