"I had a little chuckle after Michaël Attias handed me his LuMiSong album at an early May show in Brooklyn. I’ve seen the bandleader perform numerous times, and have long felt his skills at creating reflective music were just as potent as those he uses to wax expressive. Meaning an Attias hush, whether curt or prolonged, often provides the emotional impact of an Attias explosion. The expertise required for each resides in the Israel-born, Paris-raised, Minneapolis-schooled, New York-wisened saxophonist, and I particularly dig it when both get equal time during one of his performances. The chuckle came on the bus ride home, when I noticed the cover art’s graphically split letters of his name and mixed-case letters of the album title – each reminded me of his music’s two-fold strengths.

But this isn’t about musical dichotomies, exactly. Attias’s positioning of ballads and barnburners doesn’t cast them as being contrary to each other, or find them isolated by discrete personality traits. Indeed, as we hear on Kardamon Fall, they’re allies, bolstering each other and leading the program towards a richer geography. You can feel their relationship blossom in the album’s first two pieces. “Kardamon Spring (Femme Centaure)” is a lithe string of flutters and sighs - a portentous evening breeze which wafts by out of nowhere. “Trinité” is far more brazen, delivering a repeated riff that stirs up trouble everywhere it goes. Heard in succession, they’re signposts of what can be expected down the road. Better, they’re indicators that Attias’ artistry is able to blend both approaches. The term “synthetic” is oft used when describing something unpleasant, but here four musicians - pianist Santiago Leibson, bassist Sean Conly, and drummer Tom Rainey - hybridize temperaments, finding ways to be both pensive and provocative in the same breath. To me, that’s kind of magical." - Jim Macnie