Polar Bear: Held On The Tips Of Fingers

It is, perhaps, the sound of the future—one of them anyway—and boy, does it work. Basically uncategorisable, Polar Bear reflects the mega-eclectic, post-modern listening tastes of Rochford (who wrote all the tunes) and his colleagues, moving with equal enthusiasm through Björk and Beethoven, Pig Destroyer, Coltrane and his tenor legacy, Monk, Stockhausen and the ghost of Rip Rig & Panic. With some of Kurt Weill's crudely syncopated, rough edged, fairground-meets-cabaret pit band arranging aesthetic thrown in for good measure.

It is jazz all right, 100% and no mistake, but with bongfuls of left-field electronica and mutant, rocked-up and pfunkified groove spicing the free-improv centred mix. There's not a lot of concern with harmonic development—hey, the band is led by a drummer, and apart from Jonny Phillips's guest guitar on "Beartown" there are no chord instruments—but for aberrant and off-centre rhythmic and melodic development you've hit the muthalode.

Most excitingly perhaps, Polar Bear has reclaimed the in-the-moment, radical, "out" attitude that jazz pretty much invented, back in the day, and then has progressively lost, at least in some strands, as it has become an increasingly repertory-bound, cautious, and conservative music. Held On The Tips Of Fingers by contrast explodes with passion and exuberance, a hunger for risk and adventure, and full-on and revelling-in-it spontaneity.

With Polar Bear, Rochford—who with Pete Wareham and Tom Herbert also appears in that other great London zeitgeist band, Acoustic Ladyland—says: "My main aim is to make music that sounds new and has feeling." Polar Bear has done both things, and shown the way to a brighter future at the same time. The winner of an AAJ Stone Delight Award for joyful outness from start to finish.

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