Alive in the Forest of Odd arrives in a nice little fold-out cardboard wallet, with - importantly - a big enough space that the CD slides in and out easily, even with its accompanying plastic wallet! This might sound superficial, but the amount of times I’ve had to fight to get a CD out of one of these things… The wallet has some suitably arboreal imagery, and liner notes guiding you through the album by Theo May. May describes the influence of European folk-jazz, and specifically Bulgarian folk music, and makes clear his desire to blend classical and jazz musicians, and idioms. The album has ten tracks, with the shortest just over five minutes, and the longest just shy of eight minutes.

The first piece, ‘Voyager’, sets out the album’s stall from the off, with classical-infused jazz playing with a definite folk vibe; it’s warm and harmonically deep, with an engagingly slippery violin solo from May. The slight unruliness of ‘Voyager’ is evened out for ‘Free To Sing In The Clear Sky’ which feels even deeper, with more space and a slower pace; “Solemnity”, which follows, is even more in this direction, dominated by hushed piano, cello, and clarinet: a genuinely pleasant piece. ‘Politicians’ adds some flute to the proceedings, and whilst May describes it as ‘tonally dark and sparse’ it’s not really Bohren & der Club of Gore… However, it skirts close, and there’s a very effective passage at the end where the violin, bass, and drums lock into a rhythmic section. On ‘Twelves Blood’ the Odd Unit finally cut loose and some more frenzied and noisy playing enters the fray; it’s not going to shock you out of your seat but it’s a compelling - and welcome - change in dynamic. The dynamic shifts back to the subdued with ‘The Place Without Words’, another pared-back track led by the piano and violin, before ‘The Joy Of Nine’ leaps forth with a dance that nods to Bulgarian folk music, and jumps about in terms of tone and arrangement. ‘Under The Earth’ is another deeply layered piece, and it again raises the question for me of how much of these pieces is composed and how much improvised; ‘Kopanitsa’ is another tricky dance that at points evokes a more hardboiled and sombre Raymond Scott Quintette, and like ‘The Joy Of Nine’ it too toys with arrangements and dynamics; finally, ‘The Ballad Of Acceptance’ brings the album to a more reflective, sombre close.

This is one of those albums that is undoubtedly good, but just not for me. It’s a little polite for my ears, and whilst I might say it often sounds like jazz being played by classical musicians as a criticism, I know that for many that will be an attractive proposition. Certainly it’s an intriguing album in terms of the tension between composition and improvisation, and the playing is sensitive and smart throughout. So, a very solid album that I feel could probably garner a lot of acclaim, its just not designed for my ears.