Satoko Fujii: Dog Days Of Summer

With its aggressively pushy opener, full of attitude, the reunion of Japanese pianist Satoko Fujii's Quartet, last heard on Bacchus (MZCO, 2007), seems to be asking: "well, did you miss us?" Certainly there is no missing the foursome on Dog Days Of Summer, completed by regular partner Natsuki Tamura on trumpet, along with the snarling electric bass of Hayakawa Takeharu and the bombastic drums of Tatsuya Yoshida of progressive rock duo Ruins fame.

Although the PR material suggests that the album is avant-rock, notwithstanding an occasional tang of prog, the improv chops and lack of steady beat situate it firmly in the jazz arena. However, the speedo often flicks red as Yoshida's wayward tattoo supercharges proceedings, while Takeharu's motorbike-revving fuzz bass further reinforces the imperative to fasten seatbelts. But not everything is daubed in primary hues. There is subtlety and shading too. Not surprising, as all half dozen tunes emanate from Fujii's pen, which in itself is an invitation to expect the unexpected and guarantees diversity and intrigue.

Fujii's charts here incorporate a notable number of duets into the fabric, almost as if she sees that as the best way to show off the component parts. That gambit is apparent from the get-go, as the punchy "Not Together" contains a splintered drum-piano axis at its heart. Twosomes dominate again on the explosive "Metropolitan Expressway," which opens into a zooming bass thicket, gradually pulled over by Fujii's ruminative piano, before ceding to a runaway drum cavalcade accompanied by blaring trumpet, like a traffic cop yelling "stop!"

Timbral exchanges prevail at the beginning of "Circle Dance," until Tamura's trumpet melody canters into view, beset by artful pauses which insert space and air. The longest cut at over 11-minutes, it offers abundant opportunities for individual expression. A relaxed groove serves as a setting for a spluttery trumpet solo in which Tamura characteristically melds lyricism with vocalized bluster, while Fujii's own feature is also outstanding, as she piles up the harmonies atop bustling rhythm.

More evidence of the pianist's canny plotting surfaces on "Low," an unusual structure that comprises a stream of repeatedly overlapping unaccompanied spots before congealing in a restless free-for-all, from which the staccato theme re-emerges. The set closes with the valedictory title track, as if wistfully saying: "goodbye, don't know when we'll be back again." Lovers of uncompromising sonic narratives can only hope it is soon.