Hyperglyph marks the first new music in eleven years from Chicago Underground Duo: Rob Mazurek, a composer, trumpeter and synthesist, alongside Chad Taylor, also a composer and a percussionist. Theirs is a boundary-pushing free jazz collaboration that emerged from the avant-garde scene nearly three decades ago, and from their first performance as a duo in January 1997 (a snowy night they described as “magical”), their work has been recognised for its organic blend of identifiable jazz influences and other worldly explorations of no identifiable lineage. Mazurek and Taylor have, over the years, also played together as part of the former’s large-format-skyward-expression vehicle Exploding Star Orchestra, whilst their duo project has also at times expanded to a trio, quartet and orchestra, all with guitarist Jeff Parker. And despite this recent gap in their working together, Rob has pointed out that this latest release has come together for entirely the right reasons. “When it feels right, we do it”, he explained. “We have worked together and have been friends for a long time. This creates a kind of continuity not only in the music, but in our lives.”
Opener Click Song riffs relentlessly atop a head-spinning rhythmic bass pattern, presenting as an energetic pot-boiler of frenetic intensity. This is followed by the title track, and together they have the satisfying impact of a perfectly weighted and executed one-two punch. The keyboard sound is analogue and space age in equal measure. As the trumpet part explores the untapped melodic possibilities awaiting this framework, I am instantly reminded of the excitement surrounding the free jazz concoctions of the sorely missed Jaimie Branch (who Taylor worked with) only a couple of years ago. It is there in the freedom of expression and the hard-to-keep-up-with momentum and drive propelling this deep, exciting music. I had to look up the meaning of the song (and album) title, and it would appear that a hyperglyph is a layered symbolic construct, or to be more precise, a living symbol that goes beyond static meaning. The hyper element of this glyph implies many dimensions of meaning which, as you soak up the multi-levelled timbre of the music, suddenly seems to make perfect sense.
Rhythm Cloth is a segue, a short dusting down of the components on show here as the trumpet flexes its scales, the keys exhale into the atmosphere, and the drums kick back with so much force our sonic foundations seem to shake. This ushers in Contents Of Your Heavenly Body, which, once again, bursts into view as if delivering its main sonic content on a conveyor belt of audio travelling at slightly too fast a speed. It clears the air for a spoken word dialogue with beat poet intensity. By contrast, The Gathering has the mournful, doom-laden tone of a funeral march, albeit one that stands accused of breaking into a light sprint. This is one of the album’s more progressive pieces, which, after the initial dark impressions, arrives at a chiming vibes-filled space where you sense that new light can clear and cleanse the spaces in which we find ourselves; the air is clear for Rob’s cornet flourishes to carry us home. Next up, another pause for thought with Plymouth, in which the key notes appear filtered through fizzing electronics and the understated percussion finds an ambience at odds with the high stakes and distortion that surrounds it.
Hemiunu begins with loping piano figures that show a subtle nod to African rhythms while trumpet and electronic keys play as a complementary duo stamping down solid structure over which free post-bop phrases can embellish with pizazz. This is a piece that boasts the twin feats of being both out-there and tangibly relatable. It is a precursor for a three-part penultimate hurrah for the record entitled Egyptian Suite, separated into intervals titled The Architect, Triangulation Of Light, and finally, brilliantly, Architectonics Of Time. It certainly is an epic, opening with the pounding echoes of thrashed beat and trumpet passages that evoke majestic images of sphinxes, temples and hieroglyphics. It is one of the endless fascinations I find in music that a few notes played in a particular configuration or tempo can summon such vivid visions in your mind. There is no other art form that can cast this magic spell on us humans in the same way and with this suite, which moves through haunting sheets of chiming and hoots to Pink Floyd-esque grooving with a pict abandon, the Chicago Underground Duo show themselves to be masters of their unique musical facility. As closing tune, Succulent Amber decisively concludes, via bing-bong astro bells and a galaxy of shooting stars, that the act of pushing forward can still harvest rich rewards and audio delight.
Hyperglyph (August 15th, 2025) International Anthem