Adventurous and abstract, saxophonist Mark Polscher‘s latest beautifully presented album is a curiously languid and mysterious journey in which his sweet sax tones are scattered like so much space dust across backdrops of alien clatter.
The electronic sounds and percussive pulses are evolving backdrops against which Mark paints abstract pictures with the sax. It flares, surprised and scurrying; or at other times, when crowded by the synth sounds, it gurgles threateningly. The sounds are out of sight and cause the sax to react, leaping with surprise and the synths become more prevalent, the echo like a long-abandoned mainframe, computing unknown variables while the sax gibbers and chirrups, discussing and deliberating with itself.
Some pieces have a more sinister backdrop and the sax is sparser, scoured with fatigue, its implied innocence turning unique patterns, untainted by hints or comparisons. There is a distant sci-fi vibe to the ominous rumbling and as matches flare, the sax turns sultry and you can imagine it helplessly drifting into “Summertime” before being snatched back to the here and now. Its softness merges with the carefully chosen electronics and all the while a pulse controls as a brief repetitive motif throws a cat-like shadow. Although generally sparse, the electronics change with every track and are an essential counterpoint to the wide-ranging sax, which you have the feeling is trying to convince you of something that is just out of its grasp, sometimes softly and at others with a more frustrated forcefulness, but the tone is always sweet. The final track, with its long room-tone intro and eclectic fragments, is wistful as if dreaming of a future out of reach. This sensation, with its intriguing ominousness, suddenly drops away and the album ends abruptly and surprisingly.Second Landing Jump is an adventure that offers more up with every listen and provides an interesting mix of sounds that are open to any interpretation, but are eminently satisfying.
