Sax man David Bixler has been playing for the best part of thirty years, be it solo or as a part of various different collaborations. For Incognito Ergo Sum, he has teamed back up with long time foils Fabio Rojas on percussion and Dan Loomis on bass to pursue a follow up to 2020’s Inside The Grief.
It feels like a return to basics and the the initial thrill that saw them playing to parkgoers in New York City. Over a freewheeling fourteen tracks, they re-discover their post-bop legacy, but also inject elements of freeform abstraction and pursue specific targets with great feeling and sensitivity.
The album has an intriguing layout as every other track from “You” to “You’re Making Me Hate” are variations on a theme. The short staccato horn bursts laid over chivvying percussion are like different perspectives of a well-loved vista and each one revisits the rhythm and melody, but as if the weather has changed or there is something else on his mind.
Wherever he blows though, Dan and Fabio follow him, at times allowing him a long lead and at others, cutting him up short, bass following the lead line like a dogged pursuer. Ironically, the most relaxed of the snapshots is the final one, “You’re Making Me Hate” which seems to have realised the error of its ways and the allowing hate into the title has had exactly the opposite effect. In between these offered mirages, the trio play with form and substance; “6.9.21” starts off with a hop and a skip, while a muscular beat propels the piece, its warm, meandering tone playing with a central riff, while “Liminal Space” fills the airwaves, its long drawn-out drift tied to an air of tension. There is something sensuous and alluring about the reed tones, but the percussion builds the walls behind it, bass constantly changing angles while the gentle percussive spirit when unleashed is rather lovely.They like to play with structure and rhythm, but at no point does it become a harangue; the tone is gentle and creamy, never screaming nor with desperate entreaty, but always with an arm around the shoulder, leading you down unfrequented byways. There is something low-key about their approach which welcomes their lineage, but offers a more modern perspective, one that is considered in all things.
Perhaps this is best described on their take of the traditional “Johnny Cope” which, after a brief extemporising intro, imbues the track with their own aesthetic and although recognisable, is replete with bubbling bass and cymbal washes that strip the familiar down and re-assemble it.They do a similar thing with Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein‘s “Nobody Else But Me” which, again although familiar in its romantic flow is more interpretive, the little bass runs and percussive flashes draw them away from the melody, returning just before it loses sight of the original plan. The trio here has returned to basics, but those basics are embellished with style and substance and the sweetest of tones to deliver an album that is really good company from start to finish.
-Mr Olivetti-
