Listeners are often introduced to Vijay Iyer through his acoustic jazz trio, a powerful and innovative group that can cover pop artists and progressive jazz icons with equal aplomb. But since the pianist rarely tills the same ground two releases in a row, new fans are soon invited to grapple with wider-reaching projects like Iyer’s string quartet writing, an oratorio about veterans of color from recent American wars, or swinging ensembles that incorporate elements of Indian classical music. When you zoom out, the diversity of his catalog is undeniable. Still, several of his albums have tended to pick one organizing principle and stick closely to it, delving deeply into the expressive possibilities offered by a given theme or a particular set of collaborators.
Iyer’s duo album with veteran trumpeter Wadada Leo Smith, released on ECM in 2016, had that grandly unified feel. On Far From Over, he’s debuting yet another lineup: a sextet populated by contemporary-jazz all-stars like alto saxophonist Steve Lehman and drummer Tyshawn Sorey. But Iyer’s compositional range here is even more notable than this latest permutation of personnel. The 10-track, nearly hour-long album offers one of the bandleader’s strongest and most varied programs—one in which feverish ensemble writing hangs together with groove-oriented tracks and sparer experimental textures.
The chill, minimalist hook that introduces “Poles” recalls some of Iyer’s suave writing for his trio. One minute later, quickly shifting figures for the brass and reeds lend a nervy feel while Iyer’s piano syncopates and gathers steam. After a burning solo from alto saxophonist Steve Lehman, Iyer switches from acoustic piano to a Fender Rhodes keyboard, touching on some of the fusion jazz tapestries first fashioned by Miles Davis. These changes all occur in a five-minute span. But since the switches in the composition flow just as easily as the band plays, none of it feels forced.
The album is also paced to thrill. The celebratory energy of the title track leads into the head-nodding opus “Nope,” which shows off Sorey as a virtuoso of funk and hip-hop-influenced jazz rhythm. Then Iyer slots in “End of the Tunnel,” an electro-acoustic piece. At first, it sounds like another Miles tribute, until it slides into the realm of chamber-music experimentalism.
Hard-driving, post-bop energy and a stirring Sorey solo fuel “Down to the Wire.” “For Amiri Baraka” twists from its somber, elegiac opening into something more forceful—a tribute to the late writer’s polemical style. “Good on the Ground” presents a thrashing profile, while “Threnody” gives Lehman the opportunity to close the album with some stirring alto sax cries. All of the soloists can blow your hair back, but they also work together with grace. (Listen for the elegant sense of balance the two sax players foster when sharing the stage on “Nope.”)
Along with bassist Stephan Crump, both Lehman and Sorey have worked extensively in some of Iyer's previous groups. It makes sense that they'd sound comfortable in the composer's dense and memorable pieces, though this ensemble's compatibility isn't an end in itself. The union of players and material inspires a new synthesis: the sound of Iyer consolidating strengths and discovering some new ones as he settles into the vibe created by his most potent band yet.
