4 out of 5

Label: Astral Spirits; Monofonus Press

Produced by: Erich Steiger (recorded by)

Yeah, okay, this is the second jazz group in a row I’ve listened to to use their names as initials for the band name – HMS being, initially, Joe Houpert, Nathan McLaughlin, Erich Steiger – so maybe that’s a thing. But they gained an unrepresented letter for this recording – Steve Perrucci – and thus extended the gimmick to naming the album: Tetrad. …And then, eh, I think all the song titles are D&D references? Do with that what you will.

I’ve nothing against this practical method of band / album naming, but it has seemed more prevalent in this genre (or so I’m securely nudged to believe by my confirmation bias), and that kind of vibes with an also prevalent splinter in the genre: improv, to the level where you might even be improv-ing your group – i.e. we were just jamming together, and someone hit record. So if you’re just happenstancing a session, why put too much thought into a name for what might be a very ephemeral collective?

All of these thoughts often influence how I hear improv jazz groups. And then I listened to Tetrad, was entranced by its cinematic scope, its otherworldly buzz, and was brought to question – like all great albums I think can make us question – how much amazing music is my bias precluding me from hearing?

HMS do have their roots in improv, to be sure, but they’ve also been a group for a few albums now, and I have to believe that the album benefits from that history, as I was caught out by how this mostly loose, impressionistic music simultaneously sounds so tight, and composed, milking maximum impact from disparate, sometimes sparse, pieces. How much is improved or scripted doesn’t matter: an end goal of immersing me (whether in D&D lore or not) was achieved: minimalist, restless jazz, poked and prodded by an electronically-controlled spine: clicks and buzzes, setting a metronome for occasional horns and bustling drums to play off of. This can be more organic, approaching understated Dirty Three territory, such as on opener Quasit; it can be tight and appealingly suffocating, experimental electronica with jazz overlays, a la Retriever; or maybe it’s a more slowburn freeform style, patiently crafting ambience via mysterious and recognizable sounds – I think of a more understated version of early Perishable records / Doug Scharin stuff, but those are just references from within my sphere.

The improv roots can still be found on Tetrad, in that almost every song lacks much of a legitimate ending, but there’s a cumulative atmosphericness that:s nonetheless achieved via smart sequencing, such that the various textures bleed into one another, and if one song peters out, the next almost instantly recasts the spell.

HMS’ Tetrad has the drapery of something more oblique, but I don’t think it’s difficult to get past that: I found myself unable to ignore these looping, lopping tunes of free-jazz restlessness, and then be utterly fascinated by them.