Candy Dulfer’s latest CD, Candy Store, is an undeniably sweet concoction that provides a cornucopia of contemporary popular musical styles all laced with just the right amount of studio sheen. This is not formulaic contemporary jazz, though Dulfer is perfectly capable of delivering the potential hit radio singles, as she proves on tracks such as “11:58,” “Soulsax,” and “Finsbury Park.” Yet even these tracks have more depth than the average smooth jazz release.

Dulfer has been on the scene since the mid-80s, and she has honed her approach by continually pushing the boundaries of contemporary jazz. The tracks on Candy Store were recorded over a two year period, a time when Dulfer was without an American recording contract. During that time, Candy explored a multitude of musical styles and came up with this mix of tunes. Though she feared at first it would too diverse for most record labels, Dave Love of Heads Up was reportedly very excited by the disc, and as a result, Dulfer is now signed to the venerable contemporary jazz label.

Dulfer’s approach to funk is most reminiscent of Maceo Parker, with whom she’s played, and the opening track, “Candy” is like a hyped-up, modernized James Brown groove. The beats here are sharp, also reminiscent of the funk of Prince and his protogees The Time back in the early ‘80s. In any case, this rocks harder than most contemporary jazz allows itself to. In addition, when Dulfer wants a horn section, she brings in a trumpet and trombone player rather than relying on synthesized digital approximations of the sound of these instruments. Guess what? It makes a difference to the sound, making the music , though undeniably slick, seem much more organic.

Candy Store harkens back to the days of freer transversal between what are often considered discreet musical genres these days, when instrumental performers like Maynard Ferguson, Bill Chase, and groups like Blood Sweat & Tears made music that was a mixture of pop music styles of the day with savvy instrumental arrangements. Experiments in various styles that might have been embarrassing in some hands (the Latin “El Cabana,” the reggae exercise “Smokin’ Gun”) work perfectly well here. But make no mistake, the main focus on much of the album is getting down with the funk a la George Clinton/Prince.

Obviously, Candy Store is recorded with a pop sensibility and the songs are designed to sound good on the radio and to be radio-friendly in terms of length. But live, Dulfer can, and often does, stretch her tunes out and take them in unexpected directions. This disc should attract not only contemporary jazz listeners, but also those who like urban soul, dance club music, and those who just like a disc they can pop in for a fun listen without worrying that it will give them too many cavities.