After a series of albums where concision was largely the order of the day, Threadgill elaborates on a 2CD set in which each disc has just three pieces, the longest of which runs to almost 20 minutes. As the artist himself explains, this is a ‘larger epic’, but the rub is that there is a very specific focus on each of the different instruments in Zooid. In real terms this amounts to a constant, tantalising shift of configuration that blurs the boundary between small and large group identities, for even though the band is a quintet its expansions and contractions, alterations of tonal palette, not to mention the overall structural fluidity of the work, give it a ‘bigness’ of idea as well as grandeur in sound. Rhythmically, the arrangements are more supple than ever with Kavee pulling off a marvellous tightrope walk between on and off the beat accenting, which creates a perfect mutable backdrop for all the staggered phrases entwined elsewhere. While Threadgill's elliptical, constantly teasing themes make for a strong signature this work has a brilliantly distilled echo of Mingus' Tijuana and Cumbia excursions such is the sombre if not mordant sensuality of the ambiances. Guitarist Liberty Ellman is a key contributor in this respect and the Spanish twists rather than tinge of many of his improvisations are as invigorating as they are questing. All of which fits the unique, immensely complex personality of Threadgill, a storyteller who entices and unsettles by way of unexpectedly manipulated notes and tones.