If the resuscitation of jazz has been one of the predominant narratives of the last several years, it’s unquestionably due to the lasting impact of the Brainfeeder confederation, via their imagination, wry humor, and total fearlessness. These are artists who exist in in-between states, the interstitial vortices between genre, who don’t merely slap together old ideas to create something new, but rise up from underneath, intuitively aware of the historic cross-pollination of ideas without being academic or pretentious. This is fundamentally LA shit, carefully franchised worldwide to spiritually aligned kinsmen.
The list of classics is scarcely contained over these two volumes - one is retrospective, the other comprises an unreleased future canon. Movements rise and fall, but the ideas espoused over the last ten orbits remain indelible. If Brainfeeder hadn’t built the future, no one else could have even dreamed it.