Braxton leads the quartet through complex works that substantiate his geometric style music notations. There’s a whole lot more than meets the eyes and ears here. During the opening moments of "Part I," drummer Thurman Barker and bassist John Lindberg generate a scraping, bass and snare drum motif, which comes across as an abbreviated military-march progression. But the fun continues when Braxton and trombonist Ray Anderson engage in knotty unison lines over the top. The band frequently detours the musical panorama into clusters amid a sequence of mesmerizing developments that often flow into linear and multi-tiered progressive-jazz exercises. In various areas, Braxton, playing a variety of reed instruments, and Anderson venture into the stratosphere via torrid soloing breakouts and robust swing vamps.
On "Part II," Barker uses his percussion and xylophone to initiate an adventurous world music groove, softened up by Braxton’s introspective soprano sax lines. Then the quartet proceeds to expand and contract matters with stop/start motifs along with an inverted John Phillip Sousa type parade romp. So, they equalize the austere segments with a lighthearted muse that consummates the rather existential and perhaps unlikely sequence of events, all personified by Braxton’s indelible signature.