In jazz, the ultimate achievement isn’t an extended composition, a foundation grant, a Pulitzer Prize, a hit record, or a Grammy: The prize veteran musicians have their eyes on is a regular working band.

It’s not hard for a horn player to hire three guys as his rhythm section for a gig or a record date. In fact, many creative musicians, like Dave Douglas or Don Byron, temporarily assemble bands around a specific concept. But keeping a group of first-class musicians until they have fully learned, in Duke Ellington’s phrase, one another’s poker-playing habits, is a rare accomplishment indeed.

Dave Holland, whose Quintet is playing at Birdland this weekend, is a British-born bassist who came to international attention playing on Miles Davis’s transitional acoustic-to-electric sessions of 1968-70. Then he was part of a collective that included two major postmodern jazz saxophonist-composers, Sam Rivers and Anthony Braxton. For the last two decades he’s been leading his own groups; you can hear a sample of several in the new release, “:rarum” (ECM 179902).

For six or seven years now, he’s been at the helm of a quintet that includes some of the most imposing players around today: trombonist Robin Eubanks, vibraphonist Steve Nelson, and drummer Billy Kilson. The main attraction, though, apart from the bassist-leader himself, is the gifted tenor and soprano saxophonist Chris Potter. Except for an occasional nod to Sonny Rollins’s big tone and staccato approach, he doesn’t sound like anybody else.

The Quintet’s music, written almost entirely by its members, reflects the collected experiences of musicians who have worked in various varieties of jazz. Their basic sound is open-ended bebop, essentially harmonically driven. Where classic hard bop ensembles like those of Art Blakey and Horace Silver specialized in very tight frontlines, however, Mr. Holland prefers a looser, more open sound. He typically has horns play not in unison but simultaneously, in what could be considered a modern era update of New Orleans polyphony. It’s a most unconventional way to state an original melody.

One of the opening pieces in the Wednesday night set, “Easy Did It,” was rather ironically named: Resting on a foundation of funk drumming patterns, the piece shifts meters between 4/4 and 3/4. Even though the band features long solos, and some very long numbers, like “Full Circle,” Mr. Holland’s quintet still seems like a genuine ensemble and not merely a gathering of soloists.

“Full Circle,” composed by Mr. Eubanks, is an extremely long piece that makes a lot of essentially simple material (in jazz titles, the term “circle” often indicates use of the cycle of fifths). Mr. Eubanks began and ended the piece with two longish solos. On records he sounds more in keeping with the school of cleantoned modern trombonists that began with J.J. Johnson. In person, his sound is more extravagantly blurry, like Roswell Rudd or Bill Harris.

“Shifting Sands,” which is included on “:rarum,” came next. For me, this is Mr. Holland’s most memorable recent composition. It’s short and colorful, not to mention to the point. Evoking Eastern exoticism and African mystique, Mr. Nelson, who normally uses a dry, percussive sound with comparatively little resonance on his vibes, here switched to xylophone, for an earthier, more wooden sound.

The group closed with “Free for All,” from their 2000 double album “Extended Play: Live at Birdland.” At first this piece also seems to be mischievously titled, since the melody is more of a classic bebop brass-reed unison. But it made good on its title by getting progressively more chaotic, building to a drum solo. Mr. Holland began the song with his only extended bass solo of the evening, played so forcefully that the wooden railings around the tables vibrated sympathetically. For a few choruses, everybody in Birdland felt we were sitting inside a giant double bass.

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In case I forgot to mention it this week, Jazz at Lincoln Center opened its club space last night. They call it “Dizzy’s Club Coca-Cola,” but fortunately the room itself is a lot better sounding than the name. Better yet, they christened the joint with the marvelous Bill Charlap hosting a tribute to their namesake (Dizzy Gillespie that is, not the Coca-Cola Bottling Company). The room is a welcome addition to the city’s already impressive lineup of clubs.