FME’s debut, a limited-edition release from 2002, was a bit of a dud, but over the years they’ve become a punchier and tighter unit, though the basic dynamic on their third album, Cuts, remains similar: a systematic alternation between pugnacious free-funk tenor/bari features and quiet clarinet interludes. The new album boasts an in-your-face studio sound that especially benefits Nate McBride – when he pulls out his bow, it sounds alarmingly like he’s sawing right through the wood – and the playing has a similarly oversized intensity, offering a brainy, composerly acoustic-trio which takes its bearings as much from rock and funk as from jazz (free or otherwise). The opener, “Other Side Up / Boadas (for Joan Miró),” gets things going nicely with one of Vandermark’s hollering, jumping-up-and-down-in-one-spot baritone features, before slipping into a soft clarinet waltz that doesn’t really go anywhere, just drifts along pleasantly over McBride’s rich double-stops. “Necessary? / Reset / Slip (for Eero Saarinen)” has a similarly jumpy head-grabbing opening, takes a holiday in the middle with some Eurofied improv (Vandermark’s tenor emitting Evan Parkerish mini-shrieks, pops and blats), and ends with a slinky groove that reaches a rather irritating rock-concert-style finale: drums flogged like a dead horse to the accompaniment of ad-nauseam horn riffs. “Static (A Hundred Yards) Static (for Antoni Tàpies)” sandwiches a dusk-hued clarinet/bass feature between a delicate opener and a yammering conclusion; “Broken (Sentence) Broken (for Shellac)” is another blunt-instrument riff tune, making way in the middle for a nicely tenuous, droney sax/bass interlude, before things are eventually shunted back towards another blow-to-the-head conclusion; the album ends with another slow-drifting clarinet feature, “Heavy Light (for Christian Wolff).” The trio is tight and well-seasoned, and one gets the impression that little has been left to chance, sometimes to the point of predictability – Vandermark has a tendency to play something stunningly obvious, then play it a couple times more to make sure he’s got his point across. Curmudgeonly reservations aside, this is elegantly packaged power-trio music which marks FME is one of Vandermark’s more interesting projects.

Back to the Circle features two-thirds of Triage (and two-fifths of the current KVDM5 lineup). It’s a modest document – just 42 minutes, delivered with surprising delicacy rather than shooting for free-jazz meltdown, and the clear but natural recording-style comes a bit of a shock, or relief, after the pumped-up Cuts. The bassless setting makes this an excellent place to study Rempis and Daisy’s playing in close-up, away from the pressure-cooker atmosphere of their other gigs. You can hear all the subtleties in Daisy’s playing, for instance: the casual way he slips a small but meaningful gesture or accent into his accompaniment, his ability to modulate unfussily between different patterns and time-feels so that the switch seems entirely organic (the title track is a particularly good instance), and his ability to steer improvisations intuitively and tactfully rather than resorting to force majeure. Rempis plays alto sax for the most part, his lightfingered, quickwitted approach harking back to bebop even though it omits most specific bebop content; on tracks like “Welcome” and “Fast Cars” he has a vibrant-yet-slightly-mournful sound that on slower passages suggests a more “outside” Marty Ehrlich, even if Rempis usually keeps things busier and more unkempt. On the two most abstract pieces, “ Alexandria ” and “Huff,” Rempis switches to tenor, homing in on long held notes, fiddling with overtones and distortion, and experimenting with extremes of volume, from wispy near-nothingness to Brötzmann gale-force. This isn’t a major album, perhaps, but there’s plenty of honest, spontaneous musicmaking on it, and if you’re a fan of these musicians, it’s a must-have. Just an edition of 800, too, so buy now or cry later.

Nate Dorward

Cadence, April 2006