Zack Lober's "NO F1LL3R"

Bassist-composer-DJ-producer Zack Lober's a Montreal native by way of Boston and New York, now based in Utrecht, The Netherlands. His Landline project combined music with visual art, while his Ancestry Project used a jazz quintet, turntables, and visual projections to present a narrative based on oral history interviews with his grandfather -- a musician who escaped antisemitism in Europe and wound up playing with some giants of Canadian jazz. Lober's latest group, NO F1LL3R, whose debut release drops February 24 on digital media and limited edition vinyl from Zennez Records, is a trio with trumpeter Suzan Veneman and drummer Sun-Mi Hong. Both of his bandmates here are leaders in their own right, but as a unit, they are empathetic enough to make a spur-of-the-moment free improv like the title track sound as cohesive as the composed pieces.

NO F1LL3R the album is a collection of short takes that flow together seamlessly, starting with "Mid Music," a carryover from The Ancestry Project that unfolds with loose-limbed swing and a melody that recalls Wayne Shorter's "Dolores." "Force Majeure" is a reflective, somber piece that highlights the rhythm section's muscularity, which recalls Ornette's classic quartet in the deep song of Lober's bass and Hong's crisp ride and snare. "a Hymn" pays tribute to both Lober's grandfather Hyman Herman and the estimable pianist Paul (ne Hyman) Bley, with whom he played. "Blues" is written in the style of Bley's one time employer, clarinetist Jimmy Giuffre, but its simple melody again recalls Ornette (who played with Bley in Los Angeles; synchronicities abound). The interplay between Lober and Hong on this track is particularly keen.

The album's weightiest pieces are "Chop Wood" (from the Zen koan that reminds us to "be here now") -- which features the leader's most effective solo work here, and highlights the band's ability to shift effortlessly between deep rumination and propulsive swing -- and "Luck (Alice)," a dedication to Lober's wife in a style inspired by composer Carla Bley. In between, Hong takes a pithy solo on "Sun Drums," and the album concludes with Veneman's "Loved Ones," a brief, bittersweet solo remembrance of those now gone. A succinct introduction to a unit I'd like to see stretch out on these pieces. Producer Ben van Gelder (speaking of illustrious jazz names) captured their interaction with exceptional clarity; there are also remixes of "Force Majeure" available digitally by Utrecht turntablist Kypski and Boston DJ Durkin.