Its signature traits strike the ear all at once: dark hues, unlikely synchronies, uncanny timbral fusions, unfolding sprawls of form, and cascading contrapuntal melodies that stick to your ear and pull you forward. And animating it all, an impassioned sincerity, an irrepressible ardor. Improvisation is distributed throughout, but this is not a shred-fest; if anything, it’s a song-fest, in its unerring tunefulness. The quality of motion keeps bending, such that we don’t at first hear meter, or even pulse, so much as patterned, coordinated gestures.

Then a more overtly gridded rhythmic matrix arrives, mounting in intensity and exuberance. Instead of soloistic fire, we are offered genuine musicality; soon, an unaccompanied guitar moment offers an early indication that this is a band of composers, whose priorities are formal, ideational, discursive rather than “playerly.” Next, the group begins to offer something in the soloistic direction, in ebullient trading between piano and guitar across an intricate, mysteriously lurching groove, before giving way to new tableaus.

Time unfolds under extraordinary command; the music’s driving polyrhythms grind down into richly textured pools of apparent stillness, then snap back into sync, revealing an ecstatic, impeccable order, shot through with an appealing mischief. The pianist unifies the ensemble, binding it by hand, weaving in unisons across the ensemble tapestry: low-end detonations land with bass and drums, sinewy strains merge with cello, haunted refrains fuse with chorused electric guitar, filigreed parallel octaves stream across his own extremities. All of these doublings serve to stabilize and reinforce the music’s armature; they’re in this together.

As the material accrues, a composerly persona emerges, one bursting with ideas and plans, and an abundantly original sonic, harmonic, and timbral imagination: every sound ringing with larger purpose, each piece an extravagantly detailed mini-suite, every moment abuzz, vibrant, unpredictable. Nothing wears out its welcome; every formal element is subjected to directional development, careful layering, and welcome disruption. The ethos is further advanced by the ensemble’s remarkable sense of composure amid these intricacies; witness their nonchalant execution of impossible-sounding phrases, their sonic bravado, their genuine attunement, expressiveness, and sensitivity to sound, gesture, and ensemble.

Let’s call this the New Brooklyn Complexity, for its particular amalgamation of high-modernist compositional knowhow and cutting-edge improvisational expertise, its rough-and-tumble small-group flair and its chamber-music transparency, a type of artistry trained both in classrooms and in clubs, equally adept at nested tuplets and fiery grooves. If we provisionally accept this emergent microgenre, we might similarly co-locate many of the artists’ older colleagues: Matt Mitchell, Patricia Brennan, Cory Smythe, Peter Evans, Aaron Burnett, Ingrid Laubrock, Jon Irabagon, Kate Gentile, Steve Lehman, John Hollenbeck, Miles Okazaki, Miguel Zenon, Dan Weiss, Aruan Ortiz, Craig Taborn, and Tim Berne, to name just a few.

I’ll now let on that I know Phillip Golub very well. I met him a decade ago, have followed him closely ever since, and would trust him with my life. He and Endectomorph founder Kevin Sun were among my “day-ones,” the group of students who gamely signed up to study with me upon my arrival at Harvard in January 2014. In the ensuing years, Phillip found his way to studies and apprenticeships with artists as disparate as Ran Blake, Jason Moran, Bruce Brubaker, Joe Morris, Chaya Czernowin, esperanza spalding, Wayne Shorter, Tyshawn Sorey, Amir ElSaffar, Carmen Lundy, Julian Anderson, and Michael Finissy. One can hear traces of all of their artistry in his: spectral awareness, formal fearlessness, radical inventiveness, exhaustive follow-through, and plentiful, dazzling musicianship.

Phillip’s ethical commitments are as progressive and thoughtful as his music, and he is a tireless advocate for human rights, musicians’ rights, and equity. That same heart beats beneath this music. As our wounded world undergoes seismic cultural and political shifts, we are perhaps finally ready for Phillip Golub, just as he is ready to share something exquisite with us. This album is cause for celebration, marking the culmination of a remarkable achievement, and the promise of much more to come. Listen well, and hear something you never thought possible – intelligent, courageous, full of soul, and teeming with life.

-Vijay Iyer-