Anybody in the happily packed Universal Preservation Hall Friday night who might somehow be unaware that Branford Marsalis is from New Orleans surely knew it after his soprano sax sang through “On the Sunny Side of the Street” with all the neon soulfulness of Sidney Becket.

Translating his musical ancestors into modern musical might allowed plenty of fast freedom, even as he and his quartet played in the tradition(s). They reworked antiques by Jimmy McHugh (“Sunny Side of the Street”), John Coltrane (“26-2”), Fred Fisher (“Ain’t No Sweet Man That’s Worth the Salt of My Tears” – greatest song title ever?) and only slightly older eminence Keith Jarrett (“As Long As You Know You’re Living Yours”). But originals by band members pianist Joey Calderazzo (“The Mighty Sword” and “Conversation Among the Ruins”) and bassist Eric Revis (“Nikaste”) stood tall among those classics through honed performance power; this is one of the top straight-ahead ensembles working today.   

“The Mighty Sword” set a happy mood to open; airy bebop on an emphatic cadence and laced with jaunty soprano sax before Marsalis retreated to a stool upstage and Calderazzo took over in a bouncy ramble. He briefly quoted “There Will Never Be Another You” to knowing nods across the bandstand. It was fun, full flight, then Marsalis switched to tenor and led a downshift into Jarrett’s “As Long As You Know You’re Living Yours” at a more relaxed tempo. A subtle early Latin flavor gradually revved into an R&B groove drummer Justin Faulkner pushed double-time; big beats yielded to melody in Marsalis’s coda.

Faulkner had doffed his suit jacket even before sitting and taking up his sticks; now he took off his tie, maybe fearing it would burst into flame. Marsalis never even loosened his tie and was the cool, calm host. Revis wore a plain blue shirt, unbuttoned on top while Calderazzo looked relaxed in a white jacket except when he rocked hard, feet swinging free. Fashion digression ends here.

Calderazzo’s “Conversation Among the Ruins” set a meditative mood, a subdued melody whose sparse piano statements gave Revis space for eloquent bass accompaniment. Marsalis’s soprano sax engaged the piano in close conversation, first A-B dialog, then harmony and stratospheric runs until Revis’s bowed bass carried into the coda.

They swung “Ain’t No Sweet Man That’s Worth the Salt of My Tears” with no ironic distance at all, everybody on board with beefy tenor sax runs – again, in dialog with Calderazzo’s piano – a spirited drums bust-out and supple bass, with Calderazzo laying out until a brief recap.

A thoughtful quiet ballad followed, bluesy and mostly quiet. By the time I thought to ask Bill McCann for the title – I spotted him in the same neighborhood, pews under the balcony on the west side – he was already on the air on WCDB. So, rather than bug the Maestro at the mic, I can only praise the tune’s elegance and eloquence, without its title. Marsalis’s tenor work here had a restrained glow; fast soft runs, and everybody was on the same gentle page with airy, almost inaudible cymbals locked to sparse bass lines and tasty, tasty piano.

Then, back to bebop in Coltrane’s zippy “26-2,” Marsalis’s tenor stating the main theme only briefly before Calderazzo led a spirited trio romp, happy and hot. Marsalis rejoined to swap riffs and push things all the way to a hard stop. 

This brisk, airy number perfectly set up the show’s high point for me as Marsalis shifted back to soprano for “On the Sunny Side of the Street” as a relaxed late-at-night New Orleans waltz. This swung soft and sweet, cadences shifting underneath for drama. Marsalis was at his melodic best here, paying respect to the original but remaking it confidently his own at times, too.

A traditionalist of the best kind, Marsalis’s next album pays tribute to Keith Jarrett by recreating entirely Jarrett’s 1974 album “Belonging,” source of “As Long As You Know You’re Living Yours” Friday. And as R.J. DeLuke reported in the Times Union last week, a Coltrane tribute comes next. After ‘Trane’s “26-2” Friday, Marsalis mock threatened that audiences would tire of too much Coltrane; this seems seriously unlikely.

They played from 7:35 to 9:03 without a break, then encored for 10 minutes with Revis’s “Nikaste,” a complex, episodic number that prompted some discussion. Marsalis had earlier called for this tune, but Revis demurred, waving it off – so Marsalis pushed it back to encore time. Then they discussed Revis’s claim that it’s a love song. “Maybe two o’clock in the morning, with hand-cuffs!” quipped Marsalis, maintaining the easy informality of the whole show, which felt, always, like a conversation among friends. They tossed riffs around, to share or elaborate, comment or explain in counter-riffs – sometimes loose and airy, more often tight and muscular. They hollered out praise when somebody hit a hot lick, and that warm ease made the whole thing feel like love songs.

No photos here; cameras weren’t permitted.