Out Of This World's Distortions

Album review

The second release by the trio of pianist Craig Taborn, bassist William Parker, and drummer Gerald Cleaver is their first studio recording, but like their self-titled 2009 debut, which was recorded at the downtown New York performance space the Stone in late 2008, it documents a continuous collective improvisation. The tracks on Out of This World's Distortions are heard in the order they were recorded, making it the equivalent of a live album and making each piece a part of the whole, rather than discrete compositions arranged in patterns meant to convey a larger significance. The interactions between the three members of the trio are deeply sensitive. In contrast with Parker and Cleaver's work backing Matthew Shipp on several records from the first half of the 2000s, their playing behind Taborn is less about convulsive rhythm than about atmospheric effects. Parker bows the bass, creating powerful drones in the instrument's upper and lower registers, while Cleaver plays hand-held percussion and, on "Sir Snacktray Speaks," seems to have draped chains across the kit. Of course, there are many sections of this disc where thick, bluesy grooves are set up, but the mood is set from the beginning by the elegiac "For Fred Anderson," so even during the hard-hitting "Cutting's Gait," there's always a degree of meditative restraint at play, and the album concludes with another melancholy, spacious piece, the nearly 14-minute "Mud, Mapped."
© Phil Freeman /TiVo