We live in a machine music age that's reached an increasingly polarised apotheosis. At one end ‘artists’ with barely a shred of talent are musically airbrushed to a utilitarian digital perfection, while at the other the likes of electronica shaman Squarepusher codes his own synthetic instruments with which he can improvise his most sophisticated, often outlandish, musical whims. And increasingly jazz inclined musicians are wandering ever deeper into this realm in search of new musical terrain. So it's no coincidence then that Jaga Jazzist bandleader/composer multi-instrumentalist Lars Hornveth has relocated from his native Norway to LA – home to Flying Lotus, Thundercat et al – and has slotted right in. So for his nine-piece to follow the breakthrough success of 2010's One-Armed Bandit, and its live 2012 symphonic reinterpretation with the Britten Symphonia, diving headfirst into such electronically charged territory seems like the only logical way up. I first heard most of this music performed live at the Union Chapel last year and it's fair to say the same thoughts strike again while listening to its hugely detailed, meticulously constructed studio incarnation: that, for example, by sticking to the rigidity of the opening title track's punishingly intricate riffage this exceptional collective's abundant musicianship is shackled a tad too tight – removing almost any opportunity for expressive interpretation, let alone improvisation. The five lengthy tracks – ranging from 6mins 35secs to 14minutes – do dip occasionally into the soaring, sometimes wistful melodies Horntveth is so adept at writing, but all too often proto sci-fi movie themes and vertiginous slabs of Vangelis style synths dominate the sonic skyline here. A bravura new direction, brilliantly realised, it's just a shame Jaga's mesmerising musicianship is held so tightly in check this time out.