Darren Bergstein (Downtown Music Gallery) on In Air by Tern (Philipp Wachsmann / Martin Hackett / Emil Karlsen)

A tern is a bird whose migration literally spans the length of the earth, flying from the Arctic to the Antarctic despite the extremes of the surrounding climate. This recording travels similar breadths of scope and vision. Violinist and electronicist Philipp Wachsmann is a veteran of the improv scene, appearing on dozens of releases across the catalogs of FMR, Leo, Emanem, and others, and often finds himself in the company of legendary performers such as Paul Rutherford, Barry Guy (his compatriots in the indomitable Iskra 1903), Evan Parker, FMR honcho Trevor Taylor, and many others. Martin Hackett, though not as well-represented on record, has nevertheless carved out a smart little niche for himself as an expert manipulator of the Korg MS10 synth. Drummer Emil Karlsen has worked with keyboardist Matthew Bourne and Phil Durrant, and spent time as a member of the London Improvisers Orchestra. Credentials aside, this is the first meeting of the three, and as these performances demonstrate (culled from both live and studio incarnations), we’re in the presence of a genuinely exciting music being birthed before our eyes. The trio’s conversations are not only simpatico but constantly erect launchpads for the others to take flight. Wachsmann’s verdant strings set something of a neo-classical mood at times, veering from pathos to piquancy on a dime, allowing his companions to freely associate on their respective instruments. Hackett’s synth spits out a dizzying array of kaleidoscopic squirts, blurts, spasms, and chortles, decorating the soundstage in a mold not too far from the similarly elastic freakouts of fellow splatterist Thomas Lehn. Karlsen’s drums and percussive fillips are the ideal foil, exposing a constantly shifting landscape of delicately struck cymbals and sharp snare cracks when necessary; conversely, he often holds back and manipulates empty space, allowing his colleagues to work their respective mojos when such bubbles emerge. The founding of these occasional ‘down-spots’ allow the music to evolve and breathe, the trio careful to ward off anything like outright cacophony. When all is said and done, it’s intriguing to compare how Tern fares in either its live or studio-bound aggregations. In front of an audience, they can be more aloof even when appearing restrained, engaging with the room’s latent energy. In the colder confines of the studio, they seem to romp and fret about like a group of playful dinosaurs, living in the enjoyment of the moments augured, even as they sculpt their sounds like artisans working their craft. Whether it’s Hackett’s technological spackle bubbling along mischievously, Wachsmann’s violin rippling through the firmament, or Karlsen’s firefly-like percussion igniting the air, Tern’s instrumental emancipation looks to raise the bar for subsequent 21st-century improvisation going forward.