The Bill Charlap Trio (Bill Charlap, piano; Peter Washington, bass; Kenny Washington, drums), Live at Birdland

“Street of Dreams” (Blue Note Records)

Halfway through Bill Charlap’s early set at Birdland on Friday night, the great pianist played, “You’re All the World to Me.” He then picked up the mic, turned around to face the crowd, and marveled at the way Fred Astaire introduced the song in the 1951 movie musical “Royal Wedding.” 

This is the classic number in which the legendary song-and-dance man literally defies gravity by strutting, whirling, tapping, and pirouetting all over the walls and ceiling of a room. Astaire, Mr. Charlap explained, used a devilishly clever bit of “practical effects” to achieve this feat of movie magic. 

After hearing this pianist and his amazing Trio for 25 years now, I still can’t figure how he does it — how Mr. Charlap makes his own magic happen.

“You’re All the World to Me,” which composer Burton Lane had repurposed from an earlier song by virtue of a new lyric by Alan Jay Lerner, is also a highpoint of Mr. Charlap’s latest album, “Street of Dreams.” Mr. Charlap starts slowly, tentatively, with the verse, rendering it in a hesitating, probing fashion as if he were looking for an answer, or seeking a pathway. His confidence increases when he arrives at the melody — it’s like he’s now found his musical compass — and by the time he completes a full chorus of the tune, he is ready to improvise and tear down the highway with gusto. 

More literally, he starts defying gravity in his own way, even as Astaire did, teleporting across the globe. He’s playing the tune but is driven by the lyric, which moves from “Paris in April and May” and then to “New York on a silvery day” in just two lines, and next, just as swiftly, transports us to the Swiss Alps and Loch Lomond before we’re even 16 bars into it.

Could it be that this mixing of moods — using tempo as an indicator — is a key part of Mr. Charlap’s magical musical toolkit? He faked us out several times at Birdland, as in the opener, which began with the bouncy intro to “Squeeze Me (But Don’t Tease Me),” with rumbling bass notes, but then followed with an understated reading of “What Is this Thing Called Love?” It was swinging but spare, with lots of open spaces along the way. 

Conversely, there was an “All the Things You Are” that started as a ballad but unexpectedly broke into a doubletime bop number — just when we least expected it — and then proceeded to get faster still.

Along the way, we stopped at Leonard Bernstein, Dizzy Gillespie, Duke Ellington, and George Gershwin. “Glitter and Be Gay” is almost predestined for a schizophrenic treatment, varying as it does between dirge and jubilant aria of joy. “Woody ’N You” is the bop standard which, among other things, showcases Kenny Washington’s drumming. “Mood Indigo” served as a lead into a haunting “Sophisticated Lady” followed by a lightning fast “Who Cares?” 

Yet both live and in the studio, Mr. Charlap’s strongest point is increasingly his slow love songs — actually, it’s something more like “glacial” — showing tempo is an especially pertinent factor even when there is virtually none. At Birdland, he gave us “Here’s that Rainy Day” — which matched the weather, although it was night by that point — played like he was stirring a slowly simmering bowl of soup. The title song, “Street of Dreams,” rates a similar treatment on the album.  

Mr. Charlap delivers his biggest impact on the CD with “What Are You Doing the Rest of Your Life?” and “I’ll Know.” Both songs are supposed to be delivered by guys who are completely sure of themselves: I’ll know when my love comes along, and I am so confident that I am willing to commit to you forever — I’ll love you till the end of time, and then ask for an extension. That’s the message of the words, but the performance tells us otherwise. 

Mr. Charlap interprets the songs more like he’s questioning himself, he may say, “I’ll Know,” but he doesn’t. He conveys an element of doubt and trepidation that somehow makes the love song seem even stronger: “No one knows anything, but I’m willing to take a chance.” It makes him sound more like an actual human being, and not merely a character in a song or a show.  

It’s one thing to be able to sing — even remarkably to play — the lyrics like they mean something, quite another to deliver the song as if it means something else entirely, as if the lyrics were not the whole story but just one of many clues as to what’s really transpiring. He’s communicating the subtext, or enacting the deeper meaning of the songs without even resorting to the words. 

Like I say, 25 years after the Charlap-Washington-Washington Trio made its first recording, I still don’t know how he does it. His theme song should be, “It’s Magic.”