Far From Over arrests on so many levels that at times the energy and varying emotional pulses seem nearly uncontainable. As the pianist fronts this formidable sextet on such compositions as the volatile ‘Down to the Wire’, the whiplashing ‘Good on the Ground’ and the charging title-track, he impels shifting rhythmic beds with serrated melodies and improvisations, while the dynamic frontline horns concoct writhing parallel lines that often bloom into intense strains of laser-sharp passages. In turn, the disc offers moments of glowing introspection – the best of which are the elegiac, piano-bass-drums treatment of ‘For Amiri Baraka’, the spectral ‘End of the Tunnel’, which finds Iyer's Fender Rhodes chords glimmering alongside Graham Haynes' lamenting wails, and the pensive ‘Threnody’. Here Iyer slowly unravels a suspenseful melody underneath Stephan Crump's economical bass counterpoint and Tyshawn Sorey's delicate cymbal and tom rhythms before the song's balladry gives way to more foreboding intensity once Haynes, alto saxophonist Steve Lehman, and tenor saxophonist Mark Shim enter the fray.

Jazzwise spoke to Vijay Iyer about the album

Talk about the inspiration behind the title-track, ‘Far from Over’.

The phrase, ‘far from over’ came from Sean Bell's financé and family members in the aftermath of him getting killed by the police, who opened fire on him even though he was unarmed. That story is so familiar now that it's almost numbing. There was a verdict of no indictment and of course, the family was expected to say something publicly. And the thing they had to say was ‘the struggle is far from over; this path toward justice is far from over’.

Why is it important to you to use your platform as an artist to address certain socio-political issues? There are some artists who wish to keep their music separate from their views.

I don't know anyone out there who thinks that it should be separate. I think that's kind of a privileged perspective to have. I think those people who have any kind of allegiance to black music have some understanding of the conditions of which the music was born. And I hope they have some sense of responsibility and ethics around that understanding. I'm fortunate to be among artists who all share that perspective. Also, I'm here because of the kindness and generosity of many African-American artists who helped me get to this point. A lot of injustices that I touch upon affect many of them in their daily lives, especially in terms of safety, mobility and agency. To me, I can't have this incredible community of artists who I get to work with and not care about their basic human rights. There's this level of casual hostility that we all as people of color in the western world are kind of used to; and we have to endure that on a daily basis from the micro to the macro level. So a lot of socio-political injustices in America do affect me directly.

Talk about your relationship with Amiri Baraka.

He was always supportive and always on the scene. He would just come and hang out after the shows. I toured with him and his group, Blue Ark. I worked with him a lot between 2000 and 2004. I was very fond of him and he was a huge inspiration to me. Baraka passed away around New Year in 2014. That was a big blow. His death kept hitting me like waves. I kept thinking about the world without him, after he's been so present and important to so many of us for so many reasons – as a writer, activist, performer, critic and scholar.

Touch upon losing another one of your lodestars – Geri Allen.

She was such a joyous and humble person. To be that kind of person and be such a powerfully innovative artist as she was, even from the beginning, is all the more incredible. When you heard her first record, you knew that this was someone who was going to make a difference in the music. There was this unbridled quality to her playing but it didn't come with a lot of chords; the music sounded very transparent at times. She could play a single line containing all of this gravity, but without all the adornment. What she did was very sly and understated. That was something that really spoke to me. Geri's approach had its own gravity, beauty and mercurial qualities; it was a very profound alternative.