In the midst of winning awards left right and centre, pianist Elliot Galvin opens up his account with an album titled Dreamland. The toy piano he plays vigorously on the first track appears to signal a deceivingly childlike approach to music making as well as an intention to avoid the more familiar emotional framework of bands playing post-EST piano trio jazz. Galvin is the brainy-looking recent Trinity College alumni and founding member of London's Chaos Collective, the youthful organisation championing his off-the-wall brand of individualism. Galvin shows his Bad Plus-ish deconstructive tendencies on the cute shuffle of ‘Blues’ and ‘Dance Macabre’, while ‘A Major’ is a sweet melodic reverie with Monk-ish twists suggesting a stripped-down version of Brad Mehldau. Galvin shrewdly binds together a conceptual approach and the indeterminacies associated with contemporary concert music with deceivingly simple idiomatic devices from jazz, rock, electronic and other groove music. This means he appears modest about his outstanding technique at the piano. Originals include the cosmic impressionism of ‘Apollo 17’, the contemporary groove-and-loops of ‘J.J.’ through to the Hermeto Pascoal-like ‘Azaro’, and the Gershwin-ish stride piano on ‘Lulu’, give some idea of the album's widescreen scope if not this promising young pianist's maverick artistic vision.