In 2004,
Craig Taborn released the wildly experimental
Junk Magic on Thirsty Ear. Few jazzheads knew what to make of it. Accompanied by violist
Mat Maneri,
Bad Plus drummer Dave King, and saxophonist Aaron Stewart,
Taborn took a vanguard approach and used jazz aesthetics as the backbone of electronic music, wedding everything from ambient, trip-hop, and hip-hop beats to industrial textures and EDM. That record influenced artists ranging from Mark Giuliana and
Donny McCaslin to
Dan Weiss and
Comet Is Coming. 16 years on, the pianist re-formed the group as a headline quintet, with
Maneri and King returning, saxophonist/clarinetist
Chris Speed replacing Stewart, and the addition of bassist
Erik Fratzke.
What transpires on the quintet's
Compass Confusion is not a sequel so much as a fully formed statement by an intuitive, identity-bearing creative musical identity. Here, improvisation and formal composition meet idiomatic broken beats, tense atmospherics, and canny group interplay in a music that cannot be pigeonholed.
Taborn may have composed the seven tracks here, but this is a fully collaborative outing. "Laser Beaming Hearts" begins with treated, striated synth and viola drones before organic and synthetic beats and loops extrapolate a circular statement from the shadows of early Detroit techno. The grooves interlock and expand upon one another in layers as
Taborn's piano embellishes, creating a future funk groove that feeds the band. The fragmentary melody entwines with additional layers of drum tracks to erect a platform of rhythmic pulses that reflect (à la early
Weather Report) EDM and European art music. On "Dreams and Guess,"
Maneri's viola drones alongside
Speed's haunted sax lines as blurry rhythms, scraped piano strings, and EFX hover and float through gauzy beauty. "The Science of Why Devils Smell Like Sulfur" develops gradually with dissonant piano, wandering viola, rubbery bass, and clattering drums -- all initially engaged in strategic improv. About four minutes in, breakbeats, layered viola, and King's strident martial fills usher in a discernible circular form and quasi-melodic theme.
Speed's clarinet joins and counters wonky loops in what emerges as a dark carnival processional that retains a strange, alien, yet consummate musicality. "Sargasso," with piano and synth chords, bells, and reverbed gongs, establishes a conversational exchange of pulses. It gathers steam as
Speed enters with
Maneri in long, delicate lines.
Taborn's programmed synth sonics shapeshift as sax and clarinet honks and moans meet bowed viola, and loops compete with King's kit as the bassline rolls underneath.
Taborn programs an irregular industrial heartbeat using staggered hip-hop and house beats as zig-zagging, call-and-response horns and viola confront explosive sonics. The music on
Compass Confusion is dark and moody, but far from depressing. If anything, there is mischievous delight as
Taborn and company discover one another over and again in refracted sound design, murky abstraction, and head-nodding beats. Challenging and inquisitive,
Compass Confusion is, like its 2004 predecessor, the sound of "next." ~ Thom Jurek