Listen to the young pianist Megumi Yonezawa who channels Andrew Hill and Cecil Taylor with his ear attuned to a time yet to come. His performance here is a revelation of lyrical dissonance bent to the imperative of swing.

I am only sorry I was not at the Jazz Standard the nights these recordings were made. My enthusiastic affirmation of these performances would have been clearly audible over the closeted din heard here.

"Lover Man"? I love Osby's ironic romanticism and Osborne's open voiced sincerity.

Should you buy it? What kind of question is that?

This is high performance art, utterly contemporary, muscular in its sophistication, and impervious to the effete nonsense that presently parades itself as jazz.

And basically left there lying on the floor in a shambles.

Nothing wrong with the playing: plenty of chops, generally good band interaction (except pianist Megumi Yonezawa generally seems relegated to a comping role, though he has a nice intro to "Visitation" and a striking solo on "Bernie's Tune"), occasional fireworks. But it all comes across as rather self-indulgent, esp. on Osby's part, who's responsible for half the tunes and all the arrangements. Osby and trumpeter Nicholas Payton do get into some interesting dialog (esp. on "Bernie's Tune," the best of the lot, and a very wired take on "Shaw Nuff"), but for the most part this is music that just doesn't go anywhere--angular, edgy, dry, emotionally cool, tuneless, and emptily virtuoso. It's almost as if everybody's over-caffeinated or on an adrenaline high. The lethargic audience response speaks volumes.

Almost any tune exposes the problems, but "Summertime," among the most familiar of all jazz standards, stands out as exceptionally problematic. With only occasional, almost throwaway, references to its beautiful, sultry melody, the tune gets turned totally inside out, in a not especially attractive way, and never put back together again. "Visitation" meanders hither and yon for nearly a quarter of an hour in a mildly interesting but in no wise compelling way. As a listener, I'm wondering where the hooks are in this music, where's the melodicism.

If you want to hear advanced aural gymnastics (esp. from Osby, who, technically speaking, is certainly a master of the alto saxophone), this may be for you. Others will want to sample before springing for this one. Five stars for the playing (which, admittedly, can be startling), three stars for the vibe (which, admittedly, can be annoying).