Potsa Lotsa XL: Amoeba's Dance

Like an amoeba, whose shape-shifting properties enable it to adapt to its surroundings, Silke Eberhard's Potsa Lotsa expands and contracts according to its needs. Originating as a four-horn ensemble inspired by the music of multi-instrumentalist/composer Eric Dolphy, Potsa Lotsa blasted off with Potsa Lotsa: The Complete Works Of Eric Dolphy (Jazzwerkstatt, 2010). An auspicious debut, Eberhard's quartet stripped Dolphy's compositions down to their melodic essence before reimagining—a fittingly inventive homage.

Then came Potsa Lotsa Plus, an octet featuring six wind instruments and electronics. Dolphy's music was still a guiding light, but with PL Plus, Eberhard stretched her horizons to tackle contemporary classical music. Potsa Lotsa XL, a tentet, saw Eberhard's focus redirected towards her own compositions. Not infrequently, guest musicians would steer the music in adventurous new directions. This was the case with Gaya (Trouble in The East Records, 2022), where Korean gayageum (plucked zither) player Youjin Sung stirred Eberhard's writing to fascinating effect. PL XL's fourth release is an in-house affair that underscores Eberhard's ability to harness individual personalities to collective benefit.

Economy is the key here on Amoeba's Dance. The shortest of the 18 compositions clocks in at 36 seconds. A further six barely top the one-minute mark. Solos, while passionately delivered, are rationed and measured. Eberhard's guiding concept for her little big band is one of cellular expansion and contraction—individual voices drop in and out as the music dictates. The bite-sized sequence of the pieces and their somber Latin titles suggest one long suite, but the separation between tracks largely nullifies that notion. The track breaks may reflect a concession to diminishing modern attention spans, especially when faced with music as densely layered and as rhythmically intricate as PL XL's. Then again, the mini breathers may be a kindly gesture to the musicians, particularly with live performances in mind.

From the late-night, conversational purring of "Dactlylopodial" to the Cecil Taylor-like intensity of "Reticulate," and from the Western martial rhythms of "Orthotactic" to the African grooves of "Flabellate," the music plots an undulating, episodic course. Unison riffing, counter riffing and insistent pulses are common threads, but within the music's continuities individual fingerprints are ever-present. Nikolaus Neuser's muted trumpet, Gerhard Gschlößl's sliding trombone, Johannes Fink's varied cello dynamics (like angry bees on "Paramoebian") and elusive percussive strains all leave an indelible imprint. The leader's use of a recorder on the punchy vignette "Striate" provides another refreshing texture.

Fine solos from Gschlössl, tenor saxophonist Patrick Braun and clarinetist Jürgen Kupke spring like beacons from the collective sturm und drang, but it is arguably vibraphonist Taiko Saito's shimmering atmospherics that tip the scales into large-ensemble roads less travelled. On the expansive "Lingulate" the vibraphone's stealthy presence beneath squealing tenor saxophone and riffing horns provides a potent example of the tensions—and releases—that Eberhard is so adept at mounting.

In Potsa Lotsa XL's world, small, personal details are as important as the broad canvas—serenity and dissonance are the natural companions to surging power and a unified voice. In the end, it is Eberhard's ability to make complex, richly layered music feel so potently organic that is her superpower.