The first record toys with those frantic phrases that accompany cartoon reality. In keeping with that world's exaggerated sensibilities, the music is both dramatic and farcical. It soars up the scale and then makes perilous dives, offers bright little melodies that stumble and sway alongside edgy, clamorous explosions. The second record is more sober, but it's dedicated to similar principles. There are outbursts that cut like the crack of a whip, and there are subtle, almost silent, musings that sound wounded but not woeful.
Arrangements are spare and severe, and so eclectic as to seem haphazard.
To listen is to be on the masochistic side of the title's equation, at the mercy of a composer and ensemble whose next move is unfamiliar, unpredictable and demanding. Their performances are dazzling demonstrations of eclecticism, incorporating a broad range of influences and instrumentation. In the midst of energetic rhythmic patterns, and as a compliment to aggressive solos by Dawkins and trumpeter Ameen Muhammad, the music repeatedly gathers in easy, soulful tunes. The Ensemble lingers over these passages, repeating them and letting their relative consonance reverberate like a call to a fundamental gathering. It's easy to be at home in this sound and the album works as a meditation on communalism in these sequences.