Unlike many of the bop-based jazz guitarists who preceded him, Tony Remy, a lean, relaxed black Briton of the Courtney Pine generation, hasn't made his phrasing mimic the ducking and diving intricacies of a sax. More often than not he has resembled a Philly session player, infectiously chopping chords save for the odd brief foray into single-line solos infused with soul and blues, and tied inexorably to the groove. Early in his career, Remy proved he could do this as well as anybody in the business.

Remy is at Ronnie Scott's in London this week. The upsides of his show are his own succinctly fluid playing, some inventive variations on the George Benson unison singing-and-soloing technique with the help of a voice- bending synth, and a sharp band. The downsides in a jazz context are that the preponderance of funky mid-tempo dance shuffles in this sit-down venue tends to make them blur together, and the tight rhythmic prescriptions of funk make it hard to force the fingers away from hot-licks playing to a phrasing of unexpected turns.

The vibraharpist Roger Beaujolais is one of the primary colours of this ensemble, and at times his ringing sound, harmonic subtlety and elegant phrasing against Remy's spare chordal hipness gave the group its jazziest aspect, recalling the early Gary Burton jazz-funk bands of the 70s. Their partnership was at its most sympathetic on a version of Goodbye Pork Pie Hat that began as a slow groover and cranked up into a churning and soulful funk exercise, with extra impetus coming from Joe Bashorun's inventive keyboard support. The smooth Stevie Wonderish vocals that followed were elegantly unremarkable, but Remy's blend of Phil Upchurch's hungry drive and Wes Montgomery's quiet caress were compelling qualities of the subsquent instrumental. So was the excellent Frank Tontoh's drumming, a mix of crackling boldness and secure backbeat-playing that is typical of him.

Until Saturday. Box office: 0171-439 0747