Krauss' music is one red tracksuit away from a lawsuit. Well, that's not quite true. Just because I'm doomed to refract everything through the grainy prism of syndicated television doesn't automatically mean litigation pending. In fact, Krauss' bionic jazz actually emerges without precedent as one of the few convincing electro-organic hybrids to emerge from fringe jazz in recent years. Krauss commands attention precisely because the humanity of Descending to End is kept anxiously in jeopardy.
Machines hum listlessly from every corner of the stereo spectrum.
Krauss' heavily treated sax ribbons through this little Armageddon with skittering intensity, alternately muttering and waxing digitally huge in the cacophony. It becomes condescending. Fundamentally, we already know the Good Guys from the Bad Guys. These moments, though, are few and far between. I swear, if this is jazz, it is jazz infested with maggots.