By: John Engelmann
Rating: 8/11

Straddling the line between mainstream and experimental, The Nico Soffiato Quartet's Just Add Water is a refreshing contribution to contemporary jazz. With creative treatments and impressive attention to nuance, the ensemble crafts intriguing, enigmatic music that stands out from the otherwise oversaturated jazz scene and its tired sound.

A native of Italy, guitarist Nico Soffiato attended the renowned Berklee College of Music in Boston before moving to Brooklyn. In addition to Soffiato, the Quartet consists of Nick Videen (alto sax), Giacomo Merega (electric bass), and Zach Mangan (drums).

The most striking feature of Just Add Water is the borderline atonality present in some tracks. Soffiato frequently eschews chords in favor of doubling the sax melody, leaving a skeletal counterpoint between Merega’s bass and the higher instruments. The lack of intervening harmony notes in conjunction with already-dizzying zigzag melodies makes the song key ambiguous and leaves the listener unsure of what to expect next. Curiously, this technique results in sonorities reminiscent of “gypsy” music toward the end of album opener, “View Askew.”

Videen’s sax is a treat for those attuned to subtlety. Like a well-trained opera singer, minus the huge vibrato, much attention is given to phrasing. In the quirkily named “A Coat of White Primer,” it’s as if Videen is playing a simultaneous second melody consisting of volume levels rather than pitches. Thanks to a tastefully conservative approach involving just a handful of notes, his lead in “Free at Last” sounds more like a soulful Native American flute than a reed instrument.

Another surprise for the detail-oriented is Soffiato’s sound. It is easy to mistake the feather-light guitar notes that carry “Nick’s Tune” for a vintage electric piano due to an uncannily tine-like timbre. Less subtle but still unexpected is the use of distortion in some songs; this calls to mind the lead guitar work of Trey Anastasio, but without showoff licks.

As with the other members of the Quartet, Mangan’s performance is neither excessive nor too subordinate. The fluxing percussion of “Il Rabdomante” flutters busily throughout but never intrudes upon the territory of the saxophone or guitars. This assessment disregards some production problems with the album, however. Poor mixing turns the sound of the drumstick itself into a distraction, undermining Mangan’s sense of ensemble. Conversely, the riveted cymbal is too low in the mix to be heard properly.

It is tempting to dismiss “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” as yet another obligatory cover of a Broadway tune by a jazz band. But this temptation must be resisted, for “Morning” is the album’s apex. With modern metropolitan harmonies and Merega’s nimbly-fingered staccato bass guitar, the track could easily have been arranged by Jaco Pastorius. Guitar chords fade in and out of every beat like a series of tableaus in dynamic lighting; random-sounding drums complement the sound with ironic accuracy. Toward the end, sax and guitar achieve a communion of sorts by nearly matching one another’s tone. Overall, it is a stunning interpretation, imbued with ethereality and eeriness.

The CD's namesake is its most experimental and freeform tune. The band chaotically coasts down to a modernistic unison melody, followed by a brief theatrical interlude with intentionally clumsy drumming. Next is a somewhat "new agey" section that slowly evolves into a hypnotic, circular groove. Just when the groove has relented and released us from its grip, the piece staggers to a climactic halt. The track is episodic, minimal, and semi-atonal, like a soundtrack to a film about an amnesiac acclimating to a world where everything seems foreign and new.

Despite some minor audio production issues, Just Add Water is a solid, enchanting effort from musicians who thoroughly understand the concept of balance. A wealth of details under the surface allows for new discoveries and deeper appreciation with every listen. To put it another way: this ain't no instant coffee.