Photo by Andrea Canter

Moving away from the piano trio format and all-acoustic character of his two previous releases, Taborn’s Junk Magic provides a palette for the unconventional mixing and overdubbing of piano and electronic keyboards, violas (Mat Manieri), tenor sax (Aaron Stewart), and percussion (Dave King), all held together –and blown apart—by Taborn’s programming.

From the opening title track, Taborn swiftly moves through one sonic playground to another, providing a true feast for “thirsty ears.” This may be best achieved on the second cut, “Mystero,” as the tropical tones of Stewart’s tenor melody give way to an urban congestion of honking horns. Add into the mix ethereal clamors from Taborn, fast but understated tingles from King (yes, the Bad Plus drummer can be very understated!), and horn trills and squeals that remain essentially melodic. The overall effect is enticing and unsettling, as if walking into some unknown jungle with various delights around every corner, yet a sense of foreboding, caught between the potential for danger and excitement, only to slowly fade over King’s insistent drums and—some loudly chirping crickets.

The sidemen who contribute much to the success of this project are no second fiddles. Son of avant garde composer and reed player Joe Maneri, Mat Maneri first performed with his father at age 7. Now 35, he has a significant discography as leader as well as work with Joe Morris, Paul Bley, Cecil Taylor, Matthew Shipp, Mark Dresser, William Parker, Tim Berne, and Spring Heel Jack, among others. His instruments are as diverse as his music, including the five-string viola, the electric six-string violin, and the baritone violin. Taborn incorporates the full resumé of Maneri’s viola, from pizzicato plinks on the title track to a fluttering arco of high anxiety on “Bodies at Rest and in Motion.”

Photo by Andrea Canter

Tenor saxman Aaron Stewart is no stranger to modern experimentation, having collaborated with Andrew Hill, Anthony Braxton, Steve Coleman, Cecil Taylor, and Vijay Iyler, and both performs and studies with AACM founder Muhal Richard Abrams. On Junk Magic, he is as likely to provide the melodic line as the hoots and chirps that help define its environment.

And then there’s Dave King, Taborn’s childhood compatriot and fellow Twin Cities native, who is variably praised and condemned for his aggressive work with the Bad Plus. Anyone who thinks this drummer is a one-trick pony needs to pay attention to his work here, which effectively demonstrates his truly wide dynamic and rhythmic range. From the soft crashes, alternating spats and chitz, and celestial flutters on “Bodies at Rest and in Motion” to his forceful slaps and cracks on “Prismatica,” King is the keeper of the percussion menagerie.

Frequently the electronic overlay makes it impossible—at least for this low tech reviewer—to readily distinguish instruments and musicians on Junk Magic, but no matter. The mix, acoustically or electronically derived, is at once sensual and cerebral, emotional and challenging. From a less thoughtful creator, this aural universe could have easily become the chaos of the Big Bang. In Taborn’s custody, there is clearly a hypothesis directing the experiment and a sense of resolution regardless of how far flung the process.

Admittedly I am not much of a fan of electronica and have little understanding or appreciation for much of the work of today’s “out” composers and performers, many of whom are Taborn’s frequent collaborators. Yet, taking charge here, Taborn manages to speak to my predominantly mainstream ears (and brain) in a language that is simultaneously foreign and captivating. Says Phil Pietro (All About Jazz), “the sound itself is so virulent with enigma, it becomes impossible not to follow along.”

On his latest release, this creative explorer jettisons the junk and leaves the listener to follow along and ponder the magic.