Tim Berne, noted explorer of the tensions between composition and improvisation, knew exactly what he was doing in assembling his latest band. Here, the iconoclastic New York saxophonist has constructed a vehicle that allows his purposeful musical personality to shine through both in terms of the group arrangements and his own expressive voice. Overall, (as befits Berne's first release on ECM as a leader), the tunes have a cerebral feel: Matt Mitchell's professorial piano works with Oscar Noriega's somewhat dry clarinets to sketch intricate blueprints, pushed even further from jazz familiarities by Ches Smith's augmented drum kit, incorporating tympani, conga and what sounds like sheet metal. Throughout the album, the three of them engage in a dainty waltz, with a series of beguiling duos and trios emerging naturally from the tunes. Out of these angular plans, Berne's sax rises upwards into an earthy extra dimension, as breezy and urban as a yellow taxi cab. There's a chamber music delicacy to it all, sure, but it's one that's suffused with genuine humanity and more than a little wisdom.