Being presented as some far out, jazz destroying, Germanic influenced piano trio, the Necks are really more than that. Being made up of three highly sought after players from OZ, Chris Abrahams (piano), Tony Buck (drums) and Lloyd Swanton (bass) have collectively appeared on upwards of two hundred recordings. More likely than not, each of those isn’t stellar, but the sheer effort to create that body of work is remarkable. Not having received their due in the States hasn’t stopped the Necks from releasing a ton of music under their own name – three discs since 2006. But the first of that trio of releases calls to attention a marked difference in the Necks approach to recording.

Previous albums – and live performances – were generally comprised of a single, unwieldy 60 minute session, commonly conjured for the first time on the spot. Again, to refer to the group as an improv act is reductive. They aren’t just improvisational players, they’re an ensemble with a twenty plus year history of performing together. On Chemist, though, a few things happen that might be unexpected. Firstly, there are three, twenty minute tracks. And while that’s a small derivation from the past, it’s there nonetheless. More notably, though, Buck breaks out the guitar at a few different places.

Given the fact that the theoretical backing to all of this is to ostensibly play a huge break for twenty minutes at a time without an instrument taking a noticeable solo, the occasional guitar antics are quite a departure. But that doesn’t suggest the fact that the newly added component works to engorge these works here with an added layer of thoughtfulness. Being referred to as kraut-inspired might get a bit tiresome for this trio, but another trapping of the genre – the electric guitar warble – getting tossed in probably isn’t going to help the Necks disassociate from that pigeonholing.

Regardless, it seems as if the players just don’t care. And they shouldn’t. Being the modern progenitors of whatever this music could be called has found the band in a league swollen with newer acts attempting roughly the same thing. Marco Benevento might be in there, although, his predilection for soloing as well as the pop confections that he includes in his live sets in the form of covers differentiates his work from Chemist. The tone of the music, though, is similar.

It’s serious, but there’s a pervasive playfulness that comes through in any improvised music. And it’s here in spades. The Necks might not be of interest to everyone – and most certainly not to traditional jazzbos. But they’re part of a greater lineage. The players that make up the Necks might believe that line to include Miles Davis, it kinda doesn’t. Both, though, did cull a big groove. And that’s perhaps what Davis’ latter period was focused upon. These OZ players don’t really get overtly funky, but every moment set to tape here is certainly a part of some larger throbbing end - one that probably won’t make you dance, but the Necks most likely wouldn’t disapprove if you did.