The digipak that “Ritual” arrives in, manages to be simultaneously gaudy and dark; with rough strokes of paint that remind the eye of smears of blood. This tension between colour and darkness is played out in the music too - though not to the extent that it should be over-emphasized.

The tension is essentially established, in part, from the group put together by Dominique to play his music - a sometimes seven-strong, jazz ensemble. When a larger jazz group plays anything approximating to “Big Band” jazz, the results are often very colourful, if not playful and even comic. “Ritual” fits this argument quite happily, indeed, it plays it out in the very first minute of the album: a short introduction of lurching, staccato blasts (complete with shouted group vocals), quickly gives way to a fast, swinging ensemble riff, reminiscent of Mingus. This is followed by a passage that reminds the ear of that aforementioned jazz icon fighting a mild-mannered Naked City, with bursts of noisy guitar and a little bit of brass blare. The point is, that despite the edges of noise and (somewhat reserved) skronk, the core of “Ritual” has the playful colour of Big Band jazz - and never escapes it. This is not a criticism in any way, merely an observation. Following in this theme, there isn’t an awful lot of wandering: the bulk of the album is ensemble playing; this gives it a distinct proggy, composed feel - much to its benefit. At times, this prog feel becomes outright “rockist”; with “Ritual 4/Release”, for example, adopting a head-down, straight-ahead hardcore charge. There are more free pieces - “Ritual 2/Dirge” has passages of more soundy playing - but these are rare moments.

This is a really good, solid album of twisty-turny ensemble jazz; not remotely buried in the past or mired in tradition, but inescapably connected to both. It has nods to noisier, freer playing and styles; but the essential foundation remains tight ensemble work. This is not to say that it is clinical or dry, though; indeed, whilst often on the money rhythmically, melodically there are enough slurs to give the album quite a rough, “loose” feel - not to mention the punkish dirge of “Ritual 4/Release”. Perhaps the one mis-footing is the sixth piece, “Golden Retriever”, which features a slightly mawkish, emotive melodic line. Sometimes I can hear it as a beautiful little passage, other times it reminds me (in tone) of some truly execrable melody from a histrionic song spearheading an equally execrable film soundtrack. Nevertheless, a worthy listen.