Label: Pi Recordings, 2020

Personnel - Matt Mitchell: piano, Prophet-6; Craig Taborn: piano, Fender Rhodes, synth; Ben Monder: guitar; Trevor Dunn: electric bass; Dan Weiss: drums, tabla, piano.

Accomplished drummer Dan Weiss quickly gained notoriety among fellow colleagues due to a tremendous versatility, musical taste and advanced technique. The second installment of his Starebaby project - an idiosyncratic blend of David Lynch’s Twin Peak’s mystery and progressive metal with suggestions of post-apocalyptic electronica - is called Natural Selection, and its tracks are deeply connected to the ones presented in the previous album by acting as tulpas (beings or objects created through spiritual or mental powers).

As an illustration, “Episode 18”, which kicks in with fast guitar licks on top a rugged texture, is a tulpa of “Episode 8”. During the start-up phase, we have abrasive surfaces that later morph into more melodic and atmospheric passages conducted by expressive cymbal texture. Some psychedelia pops up, emanated from the synths operated by Craig Taborn and Matt Mitchell. And then, there's an arcane, gothic-style doom-metal aesthetic anticipating the visceral mass of distortion and feedback placed atop the fast attacks and booming bass lines delivered by Weiss and Trevor Dunn, respectively. Virtuoso guitarist Ben Monder oozes out a violently toxic solo by the end.

A change of mood is proposed with “Dawn”, whose languid beat and folk innuendo allow the group to set one foot on the contemporary and another on the medieval milieus. Things are muscled up a bit from the tune’s midpoint on, yet, Monder opts to set an ethereal lyricism against the cyclic harmonic progression that moves toward the ending.

“The Long Diagonal” offers rhythmic stability but only after a sluggish guitar ostinato collides with a more expedite synth figure. The keyboardist continues to connect that ostinato, yet a Latin-flavored vibe soon exudes from his right-hand routines. Ratcheting up the intensity level, Weiss brings the talkative drums to the fore, while the odd-metered prog-rock mechanisms trigger guitar spasms and then an extraordinary piano solo that, most likely, is the closest to jazz you can get on this album (“Acinna” is another competitor in this aspect). “A Taste of Memory” has its meditative intro built with the help of piano and sustained synth chords. Dark and heavy textures erupt, but the keyboardist still finds room for his perpetual rumination.

The drummer's kinetic propulsions on “Bridge of Trust” would pass for a samba if it weren’t for the dismal harmonies and foreboding melodies that run across them.

With this project, Weiss has the willingness to evoke, but also to experiment in dazzling fashion. One must admit they do it wholeheartedly.