Insufficient Funs: Chunk

Back for even more fun, Irish stalwarts Matthew Jacobson and Sam Comerford follow up their EP Insufficient Funs (Self Produced, 2016) with their debut album, Chunk. Insufficient Funs gigs have been intermittent in the intervening decade. Still, drummer Jacobson and saxophonist Comerford have kept their collaborative fires burning in both Ingo Hipp's AERIE and Chris Guilfoyle's Umbra. That Chunk tops the hour playing time may be par for the course for an album these days, but for a duo of drums and the lesser-spotted bass saxophone, such commitment to the cause can be read as a statement of confidence. And with good reason.

As before, Jacobson is credited with the compositions, though deciphering where composed lines and collective improvisation pass the baton is half the fun. The storming intro to "Worn Key," with Comerford's well-contoured motivic lines flowing over Jacobson's cantering groove, is well choreographed, but the duo's gear changes—ushering in shades of volume and intensity—feel spontaneous. Drummers arguably do the heavy lifting in most groups, and while Jacobson indeed probes restlessly throughout these nine tracks, groove-oriented in the main, it is Comerford's breathless industry that stands out.

At around 10 kilos, the bass saxophone is an unwieldy beast. Beyond the physical demands, it requires more wind than an ocean- going clipper. Comerford's control of the gale—particularly at the instrument's extremes—is notable. To command intonation and pitch as faultlessly as he does, whether stretching out or limbering up, is impressive. But to handle melody and bass duties for 60 minutes is as much a test of endurance as it is one of technical virtuosity. The bass saxophone is rare in contemporary jazz; Anthony Braxton, Roscoe Mitchell, James Carter and Vinny Golia stand out like the last few teeth in a pensioner's mouth, so Comerford's emergence as an adventurous practitioner is welcome indeed.

For his part, Jacobson switches between sticks, brushes, brooms and metal as the music dictates. His groove-centric rhythms and painterly touch propel the music away from free-jazz cacophony and into more subtle terrain, notably on "If Not," whose eight minutes evolve from tiptoeing impressionism to robust though controlled propulsion. It is in the tensions between form and freedom, and in the middle ground between the poles of sotto voce slow-burn and grooving charge that Insufficient Funs is at its most enticing. The title track is as good a calling card as any. Comerford's staccato riff—shades of UK's "In The Dead of Night," anyone?—and Jacobson's fill-the-gaps response have the duo stuttering like a three-legged-race team off to a shaky start. Once in its stride, however, the duo's unusual grace and curious potency are compelling.

Fragments of this material have been in Insufficient Funs' toy box for years. Other melodic or conceptual launching pads are more recent. New to the repertoire are two jazz standards: the brushes-driven "Tea for Two" and a lithe, boppish reading of "The Song is You," both lovingly deconstructed. Comerford's dark-hued lyricism on these warhorses underlines the bass saxophone's credentials as a worthy lead instrument.

If more venues demonstrated a greater sense of curiosity, Insufficient Funs would likely be gigging—and possibly recording—a lot more than it has. With Chunk, Insufficient Funs continues jazz's time-honored tradition of searching for new ground. Well worth a roll of the dice.