The Microscopic Septet

Lobster Leaps In

(Cuneiform)

The concept of separating music into serious and not-so-serious categories is anathema to the men of the Microscopic Septet. Since the band’s nascent days, circa the early 1980s, the players have fought against the notion that fun and art are mutually exclusive by creating genre-defying mélanges that regularly jitterbug along the edge of anarchy.

“Night Train Express” opens Lobster Leaps In, the Septet’s first new recording in two decades, with Joel Forrester’s swinging piano rhythms and an announcement (“All aboard! Next stop: oblivion!”) that’s calibrated for maximum goofiness. More telling, though, is the Forrester-penned “Disconcerto for Donnie,” which begins with dramatic chords and mournful saxophone wails that overtly recall Albert Ayler – at least until the rhythms provided by drummer Richard Dworkin and bassist David Hofstra enter in finger-poppin’ fashion amid a boisterous chorus of vocal doo-dah-doos. The transition is a declaration of purpose, delivered through a cracked smile.

The title cut, by soprano saxophonist/Septet co-founder Phillip Johnston, makes the same point in a less obvious way, with the notes played by Johnston, alto saxophonist Don Davis, tenor saxophonist Mike Hashim and baritone saxophonist Dave Sewelson alternately massing together and flying apart in a manner that’s undeniably danceable. And if “Lies,” with its insinuatingly film-noir elements, and “Life’s Other Mystery,” which suggests the soundtrack at the hippest strip joint ever, flirt with satire, they also allow the seven players to go off-script whenever the feeling strikes.

This approach peaks on the satisfying improv-fest “Money Money Money” and the thoroughly mad closer, “The Big Squeeze,” both of which bring a renewed sense of fun to the often-humorless jazz milieu. – Michael Roberts