Sometimes discarding a harmonic instrument leads to self-indulgence, but on this bass-led quartet album, it has clearly concentrated the mind. Stephen Crump's sparse, beautifully-shaped compositions deliver strong moods with clear outlines and understated beats, and each one unfolds without surplus notes or unruly inflections. Like the title, they are quirky, attention grabbing and somewhat hard to pin down – for Crump, the album title conjures a mix of rumbling shapeshifting scrimmage and rhomboid geometric precision, a balance of freedom and restraint which the album gets to perfection. Like many on the leftfield of the Brooklyn jazz aesthetic, Crump mingles the lyrical flow of Ornette Coleman's classic quartet with diverse influences to make his music sound rooted without stating the obvious. His precise, lean and clean basslines reflect extensive credits ranging from Portishead's Dave McDonald to pianist Kris Davis, a John Zorn regular. Perhaps more importantly, he's been in Vijay Iyer's rhythm section for more than a decade, playing alongside this album's drummer, Tyshawn Sorey. Here, they combine with an effortless intelligence that gets to rhythmic essentials without fancy or fuss. And the frontline is just as neatly dovetailed and focused. Trumpeter Adam O’Farrill combines the brittle appeal of a Don Cherry with strong chops, and there are moments when saxophonist Ellery Eskelin's light tone and controlled lines seem to concentrate decades of tenor sax history into a single phrase. The album opens with a controlled slow burn over a strong bass riff, includes the sparky post-boppish ‘Skippaningam’ and the mid-tempo rumination ‘Tschi’, as well as ‘Esquima Dream’ a moving ballad. Crump is undemonstrative until the final track, a moving, emotionally complex tribute to his late brother Patrick. Called ‘Pulling Pillars – Outro for Patty’, its latent sadness is tinged with optimism.