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On Introspective Movement, Nonchalant Steps, Mark Cunningham, Pablo Volt and Andreu Serra turn a Barcelona improv trio into a slow-breathing organism, where twin trumpets and low-end murmur trace small, cinematic gestures that never hurry yet quietly cut deep.
On Delusions, Corpusse turns late‑’80s Montreal into a one‑man gothic fever dream, declaiming like a punk Rasputin over blaring Korg/organ dirges that feel equal parts dungeon synth, suicide note and cracked rock‑and‑roll theatre.
On On The Run, Shutaro Noguchi and The Roadhouse Band turn a cross‑continental goodbye into a subtly tripped‑out song cycle, folding Gong‑like cosmic drift, Sakamoto‑esque pop abstraction and Louisville bar‑band warmth into one gently disorienting farewell.
On Land, Deep Earth Network (composer Danny Hammond) stretches field recordings, shack instruments and spoken-word fragments into a slowly mutating earth‑drone, half sound meditation and half psychedelic nature ritual that feels both intimate and vast.
On Harmograph, Matteo Scaioli turns self-built synths and live tablas into a single breathing organism, stretching 35 minutes of big-room ambience into shifting patterns where pulse, overtones and hallucinated folk-memories slowly braid together.
On Schematics For A Blank Stare Volume 4, Jeffery Scott Greer digs deeper into his cracked-beat, sample-scarred universe, sketching late-night instrumentals that flicker between head-nod hypnosis and uneasy, half-remembered dream logic.
277 pages. 196 x 268 mm. Open NOW JAZZ NOW and you're not just looking at a book - you're entering the minds of three lifelong obsessives. Byron Coley (music writer and critic), Mats Gustafsson (saxophonist, The Thing, Fire!), and Thurston Moore (Sonic Youth founder, solo artist) have spent decades accumulating, discussing, debating, and above all listening to free jazz and free improvisation. This book is the result of that shared mania. What they've created isn't a conventional history or a ra…
On LDS, Henrik Raabe steps away from Wareika’s cool deep house and into a slow‑burn world of dub‑soaked guitars, pastel synths and feather‑light percussion, folding jazz, Afro pulses and 1980s UK dream‑pop into something quietly hypnotic.
On Convergence: Live In China, William Hooker and John King turn a Shenzhen stage into a pressure chamber, stretching one unbroken hour of drums and guitar from whispering tension to volcanic release in a charged act of real‑time communication.
On Mount Mansfield, Sam Boston and Shawn O’Sullivan turn a Vermont peak into both instrument and score, binding bent lapsteel and analog feedback into a slow‑growing, topographic drone where static contour becomes living, verdant resonance.
On Sanctioned Departures, William Selman lets two rainforests - Pacific Northwest and Costa Rica - compose themselves, braiding tidal lagoons, primates, saunas and street sweepers into humid, borderless environments where categories dissolve like shorelines under floodwater.
On Sumatra Method, Émile Zener (aka Gunnar Haslam) rebuilds 1950s–60s Indonesia as a haunted acoustic system, where Cold War proxy battles, propaganda and terror flicker through unstable drones, VHS detritus and spliced testimonies.
On Chandler and Dickow Play Fischer, David Chandler and Paul Dickow treat Marcus Fischer’s graphic scores as a lab problem rather than a script, using tracing paper, chalk, piezo styli, EEG data and a 1970s modular synth to probe what it means to “play” an image without simply projecting themselves onto it.
On Klotski, Lao Dan Quartet throws tenor, bamboo flute and suona into a Chicago crucible, where Mabel Kwan, Joshua Abrams and Michael Zerang keep reshaping time and texture until free jazz feels like a sliding puzzle in permanent motion.
Open Sky Unit capture a warm‑blooded corner of 1970s Belgian jazz where a family of musicians stretches soul songs into jazz‑funk sermons, turning a small Liège club into a glowing, rough‑edged sanctuary.
On Air Time, Air - Henry Threadgill, Fred Hopkins and Steve McCall - hit their 1977 stride, stretching from tightly coiled themes to wide-open improvisation, turning the sax-bass-drums trio into a restless, three-way imagination engine.
On this meeting with the Spontaneous Music Ensemble, Bobby Bradford steps into John Stevens’ London laboratory and, alongside Trevor Watts, Julie Tippetts, Bob Norden and Ron Herman, turns free improvisation into a fiercely alert, shape‑shifting chamber music.
On Congliptious, Roscoe Mitchell strips the Art Ensemble idea to its bones, pairing stark solo showcases with a fierce quartet blowout that makes freedom feel both methodical and combustible.
On Nonaah, Roscoe Mitchell turns the alto saxophone into a fault line, setting stark solos, prickly duets and dense small‑group pieces against one another to test how far a single composition and a single sound can be stretched.