Framework: Cognitve Dissonance
Shifting Paradigm Records

The sophomore release by a band typically follows the debut by a year or two and sees the unit solidifying its identity and refining its sound. Framework deviates from that template. Yes, Cognitive Dissonance is its second album, but it follows its eponymous debut by a dozen years; furthermore, the group, a Minneapolis-based trio comprising guitarist Chris Olson, acoustic bassist Chris Bates, and drummer Jay Epstein, was founded in 1997. Matters gestate at a relaxed pace in Framework's world, it seems.

In many a trio, the melodic weight's carried by the front-line player with the bassist and drummer providing foundation. Framework upends that approach to some degree: often it's Olson whose clearly articulated voicing of a theme establishes stability, which in turn allows his partners, Epstein especially, to play with greater freedom. A general feeling of liberation thus informs the trio's playing, though it's never so free that it feels unstructured. At its inception, the three drew for inspiration from artists such as Keith Jarrett, Ralph Towner, and Bill Evans, but the new album presents Framework as an outfit that long ago absorbed its influences and melded a sound of its own.

If the album title implies turbulence, it's understandable given that the project developed during what in the United States have been exceptionally tumultuous times; certainly the impact of political shenanigans reverberates as strongly in the Twin Cities as anywhere else in the country. The murder of George Floyd and the protests and riots that arose in its wake also happened as the trio was working on new material and before entering the studio in the late summer of 2020. It's clearly no accident that bookending ten originals by Olson are two versions of “New Anthem,” which gives the “Star Spangled Banner” a heady makeover. It's also easy to understand why track titles such as “Changes We Can Believe In” and “Tortured Thoughts” were utilized. Throughout Cognitive Dissonance, the trio's playing packs a visceral punch, and the performances exude a spontaneous energy; the trio's apparent penchant for live takes adds to that feeling of immediacy.

If “New Anthem” sounds a tad woozy and discordant, that's not a comment by the trio on the “Star Spangled Banner” in general but instead an allusion to an imperfect rendering of it heard at a Trump rally. Regardless, the track provides a relaxed way into the album when the rubato treatment couples the guitarist's chords with bowed bass and percussive flourishes. More representative of Framework are “Hitchens” and “Relapse” for the muscularity and drive of the trio's attack. Not everything's so forceful: “Anyway …” finds the group indulging its lyrical side in a slow, folk-inflected meditation, and the jazz waltz “Pre-Conceived Notion” derives some of its breezy feel from Olson's use of acoustic guitar. In refracting the blues-bop of “Bluetrois” with angular melodies, Framework gives the material a rather Monk-like quality.

Olson's the primary soloist, naturally, but Bates takes a share too, and Epstein contributes brief solo statements to “Bluetrois”—even if the drummer's always soloing in a sense. With the others animating the flow with textural shadings, the bassist even states the melody first on “Dawkins” before handing off to Olson. A definite standout is “Changes We Can Believe In,” its title of course reminiscent of the Obama presidential campaign slogan. In alternating fluidly between lyrical and aggressive passages, the performance features Framework at both its heaviest and its most sensitive.

October 2021