"Every bar seems to have some kind of subtle variation from someone in the group, whether the musicians are doing it in real time or if it’s a post-production effect, all of them executed with pin-point precision but without drawing attention to the alteration, at least when we initially hear the music. I’ve surely listened to this record a couple of dozen times at this point and I’m still noticing nifty little fillips. It might be an upside down guimbri phrase or a sudden cymbal gesture arriving out of the blue and vanishing before we become cognizant of it. The changes impact the groove, timbre, melody, polyrhythmic thrust—you name it, everything is in motion. On paper it might sound like the performance is all over the place, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve seen several people mention how Avery imparts a four-on-the-floor house groove about 23 minutes in, and while the rhythmic quality of house is there, it hits in a way that destabilizes the music in a thrilling way, a kind of polymetric collision with Abrams that would end up derailing the jam altogether in lesser hands. And even if Avery was consciously incorporating that genre marker, I’m sure it had much less, if anything, to do with a clever allusion than a musical choice to generate exquisite tension. Despite the endless variations that emerge, the work is marked by an inexorable drive, building propulsion, density, and lapidary detail as it unfolds, and the additive parts seem to change the alignment of the four musicians in ways that only heightens the drama and the richness. Naturally, the durational aspect is crucial, pulling the listener in and allowing us to get lost in the music, but that’s been a steady presence within the group for years. The record finds NIS at the peak of its powers, and considering the creativity of each member I don’t see that ascent coming to an end anytime soon." Peter Margasak, Nowhere Street