The covers are diverse and delightful. The Tears to Fears’ classic, “Everybody Wants to Rule the World,” is initiated via tinkling piano lines over strummed bass and David King’s signature clicking. This is rather sweet, even when Iverson hits a dissonant chord along the way. The drums attain a hollow clang and Iverson vacillates between majestic filigree and spartan phrases while Anderson rumbles along, giving it a dark undertow. Noted Mike McGonigal (amazon.com), “It might be the finest jazz cover of an '80s song since Miles Davis cut Cyndi Lauper's ‘Time After Time’ back in the day.” The band waxes romantic and then orchestral on David Bowie’s “Life on Mars.” Initially Anderson takes the melody over a light comping from Iverson that becomes increasingly lush. King too starts as a subtle partner who becomes (gradually) more dynamic.

At about the four-minute mark, it seems as if a conductor stepped on stage with a full orchestra, creating a gallant and sweeping sonic display, Iverson sounding regal while King begins to hyperventilate. This track will dispel any thoughts that Iverson’s agenda veers toward minimalism.

To “Tom Sawyer” (Rush), Iverson brings in some blues elements as well as his more orchestral powers before taking off like a madman in pursuit of his freedom, at times creating the sense of at least three hands on the keyboard. King is volcanic with frequent eruptions, heightened by Iverson’s majestic clusters. Anderson plays a fluttering bridge, yielding to a more subdued King while Iverson creates a gallant exit. The most entertaining cover, however, is the Bacharach and David tune that lulled us in the 70s, “This Guy’s In Love With You,” delivered as parody with Iverson flaunting his “straight man” persona. A dark pulse from Anderson and King supports Iverson’s very understated melody on the first go-round. By the second chorus, Iverson is adding an assortment of devices, from out-of-sync flurries to exaggerated pauses and overwrought harmonies, all to humorous effect. Anderson and King play their parts as well, with deliberate walking basslines and pulsations. Iverson slides into his improv with some bluesy tinges and embellishments worthy of Liszt, while King adds his own pyrotechnic display. The guys are having fun, and so are we.

The original compositions are no less diverse in their rhythms and harmonies. Three are penned by bassist Reid Anderson: “Physical Cities” is indeed a physical workout, King hyperactive while Iverson orchestral over a heavy bassline from Anderson. The trio builds tension as if collectively tightening a coil spring, alternating more melodic (if somewhat frantic) passages with heavy handedness on all instruments. Iverson’s left hand seems in sync with King’s bass drum; King conducts a master class in percussive mania over Iverson’s insistent chords. “Giant” starts so quietly, with Anderson barely touching the bass, that I kept trying to adjust the volume! A circulating bassline meshed against Iverson’s smoldering phrases and King’s ever-present thud patterns give the track a subtle propulsion, ultimately evolving into a showcase for Iverson who leaves subtly behind with an ebullient, majestic mid-track solo. King is the unsung hero on this track, keeping the rhythmic pattern alive and complementary to Anderson’s insistent bass. As the track winds down, so does Iverson, chords far-spaced, allowing Anderson to bring things back to where he started—a solo voice. “The World Is The Same” has a beautiful beginning, with lyrical, dark phrases from Iverson. But at midtrack the tension rises as Iverson keeps a classical romanticism swirling in his left hand while the right maintains the more simple melodic line (although often it seems reversed—right and left exchanging roles). Rising percussion and bass add to the darkness and the building fury, and by the six-minute mark they have created an angst- filled symphony of disharmonies, clashing phrases and urgent percussion. A quiet interlude calms with soft percussion and solo bass tones, and soon Iverson enters with a sweet passage reprising the opening over Anderson’s pleading bassline. While the word “bombastic” often is applied to the Bad Plus, and David King in particular, the term only applies selectively here.

Ethan Iverson’s “Mint” is filled with shifting rhythms that keep you breathless and off guard, while David King’s “Thriftstore Jewelry” crackles with percussive power from the opening bar. Keeping up and at times going beyond the rhythm section, Iverson leaves few spaces on this one, filling with jagged lines and bouncing chords. It’s King’s tune so there’s the anticipated sequences of clanging and pounding as well as a frenetic solo that seems to involve every conceivable surface of the trapset, yielding his trademark menagerie of sound. King’s “1980 World Champion” closes the set, featuring thickly textured piano and heavyweight percussion and bass. Building first to a repeating majestic statement, it then swirls to a faster paced, high geared romp. There’s a feeling of a live recording here, with faint applause and off-mic shouts and conversations as it tumbles toward the finish line. Suddenly, Iverson appears with a quiet solo piano for the final bars. The race is over.

In his All About Jazz review, Troy Collins noted, “With muscular conviction and steely focus, Prog is the sound of a much heralded ensemble rising to the occasion and fulfilling the hype.” Frankly the hype has been fulfilled many times over, both on earlier recordings and in the live performances that often overflow the venue. What the Bad Plus prove with Prog is not just that the hype has substance, but that the musicoriginal compositions or reinventions—is filled with intelligent form, diverse tactics and subtle humor.

The Bad Plus tour the Midwest in late September (click here for dates and more about the band). Full discography and tour information available at www.thebadplus.com