Like any review (or structured argument of any kind), there are a hundred ways to discourse. There is always adequate evidence to argue for or against almost anything - it’s merely a case of whether one lets logic or intuition rule. I don’t want to chase that particular idea down the rabbit-hole, but I do want to reveal that I struggled with how to open this review of avant-jazz greats, Chad Taylor and Rob Mazurek, performing under the duo permutation of the Chicago Underground collective. Basically, I didn’t want to come out say that I just don’t know my jazz; but in the end, it seemed that a discussion of a new jazz release in 2010 would actually benefit from a perspective other than one filled with encyclopedic nostalgia. So, for all those would-be jazz lovers who still don’t own Bitches Brew or A Love Supreme: this is for you.

Boca Negra is the duo’s fifth release (eleventh for the collective), and its vitality and musicianship continue to spark and astound. In a musical culture where people praise Spencer Krug and Kevin Drew for their prolificacy, all should be humbled by CUD's ability to release records, considering its obligations to other projects like Iron & Wine and the Exploding Star Orchestra. Working in studios from Chicago to Brazil, it must be a logistic nightmare to get anything completed between the two musicians. It is with this diversity in mind that Boca Negra is a more than apt moniker, as it means “Black Mouth” and refers to an endless intake of information.

That endlessness begins in the asthma-attack cornet arpeggios that open track one, “Green Ants.” What follows is a call-and-response between Mazurek’s fluttering cornet and Taylor’s exuberant mix of tom rolls and cymbal sizzles, starting a dialogue that is not only beautifully embellished over the course of this seven-minute track, but also over the whole album as well. There is a patience that takes over midway through the composition where the cornet’s timbre is gracefully flute-like, and just when it is wearing thin around the four-minute mark, Taylor lays down an energetic polyrhythm, as if he were laying a new, but just as solid foundation.

The duo has stated that it wanted to stray away from the transparent displays of virtuosity that seem to overshadow the current jazz scene. It wants the listener - any listener - to be able to chart the emotions of the record, even if they can’t spot the 17/8 time signature in “Confliction." And even though the third track is (barely) a cover of Ornette Coleman’s “Broken Shadows,” CUD is far from a heritage act.

The real virtuosity of the record is in its sensitive arrangement. Each time the duo indulges in speedy, brain-splattering flights of fancy, it is careful to follow it up with space - even if there are still many things happening at once. After the play-it-all frenzy (literally—Taylor drums and plays vibraphone simultaneously) of the duo's version of “Broken Shadows,” “Quantum Eye” recharges with a series of computer-manipulated sounds, mostly derived from the cornet and the African mbira.

Perhaps the most striking one-two progression comes from the aforementioned padded-cell rhythms and melodies of “Confliction” into the hypnosis of “Hermeto.” Beyond its ideological meaning, “Black Mouth” also refers to the Tiede volcano in the Tenerife Canary Islands, and it is during the complicated dialectic of time signatures in “Confliction” that our jaw widens as we look into the gurgling mouth of the info-volcano. The mad heat is tempered with seamless jumps into traditional 4/4 romps, keeping those unaccustomed to nontraditional movements from stumbling. Yet, it is in the staggering bassline of “Conflction” (and, subsequently, the keyboard melody of “Hermeto”) that the only possible crack in the wall opens. Beyond the acoustic arsenal of cornet, drums, mbira, and vibraphone, many of the instruments are programmed by Taylor (a first for him - Mazurek normally assumes this role). It begs the question: so what if it’s in 17/8 - it’s just a computer, right?

-Bryan Parys