CD Review

The Hidden Land drops in advance of a major year of touring for our beloved Flecktones, who didn't perform together in 2005 but certainly found ways to occupy themselves, with all four members mounting successful side project jaunts. Hidden isn't so much a comeback, as some observers have oddly termed it, but rather just picking up where they left off, possibly with a renewed sense of purpose and a sensibility that seems a bit more earthbound.

The Flecktones are always in motion, and they remain an intensely singular presence. But with their last release, 2003's Little Worlds, there was slight reason to worry: the songs on the three-disc set, while memorable, delectable and representative of all of the great Flecktones hallmarks, also suggested overindulgence, disorganization, and ostentation. It was the first Flecktones recording where both the band members' collective and individual skills outshined their galvanic songwriting abilities and penchant for wild, quirky, intensely musical deconstructions of everything from jazz standards to slices of classical repertoire. It was as if the Flecktones were trying too hard to be the Flecktones: a bit forced, somewhat bloated (if you're in the market, grab Ten from Little Worlds, the sampler version, instead) and, well, in need of a little time off.

The immediacy of Hidden suggests a little break was all that was needed to recalibrate. It's one of the band's most impressive recordings: crackling, playful and richly realized. "Weed Whacker," for one, is ten thrills a second, or at least it feels that way as Fleck steps away from jazz and scratches a jones for Scruggs, picking at warp speed in the style of a true mountain breakdown. It's the same story in "The Whistle Tune," where Fleck's jazz leanings and bluegrass rawness seem in direct conflict, and the latter finally wins out. There are also more references here than on prior recordings to Fleck's classical yens—Beethoven's "Fugue from Prelude &Fugue No. 20 in A Minor" gets a category-defying workout as only the Flecktones know how.

Of course, a Flecktones album means the Flecktones, not just its namesake. Bassist extraordinaire Victor Wooten is a bit more sedate here than usual—which is a good thing, considering how much on previous records, and especially in his shows with the Victor Wooten Band, he lets his virtuosity and technicality completely take over. Both he and brother Roy, aka Futureman, display an ability (and a fond appreciation) for the trapped musical space between notes and before and after progressions. Victor's blazing interjections in "Rococo," where he goes toe-to-toe with Jeff Coffin's fiery flute, feel like hearing his bravura playing for the first time, and just when you don't think Futureman is holding his own end up, you realize it's his insatiably nuanced playing that's keeping such complex compositions from derailment.

Jeff Coffin's saxophonics are typically sublime; like Victor, he, too, has scaled himself back in service of group performance, and there isn't as much of his incendiary squawking on "Hidden" as there is a broad, Coltranesque palette of brilliantly off-kilter horn sounds. Coffin figures prominently on a vocal track, too, throat singing on "Chennai." Vocal instruments are more prevalent than usual—humming and beatboxing on songs like "Misunderstood" and "Labyrinth."

Ultimately, Hidden Land can't be called easily accessible, and certainly wouldn't be the place to start a Flecktones neophyte. But we're long past the days of easy Flecktones—the band and its members simply play on another level now, and if they never make another album as good as "Hidden Land," let alone the time capsule worthy Live Art or Left of Cool, their legacy is secure.