It's a brisk December evening in New York, and 42nd Street's Theater Row will soon welcome a unique trio of musicians. As I enter the humble Clurman Theater I notice a sign that reads "Occupancy by more than 99 persons is unlawful"; it's an intimate setting for sure, one that can reveal either the brilliance or flaws of a performance. The small venue is packed with people discussing guitar techniques and effect pedals. In short, the audience is primarily jazz guitar nerds; the other portion of the audience are students in NYU Steinhardt's jazz program. The stage is set sparsely: one simple drum kit, a guitar amplifier, and a bass amplifier. A faculty member from NYU announces that Krantz Carlock Lefebvre will soon take the stage, an event that doesn't happen often; and with that, Wayne Krantz, a guitarist with a flashy, colorful shirt and a Stratocaster-type guitar is welcomed with whistles and steady applause. He is then joined by Keith Carlock on drums and Tim Lefebvre on bass. The show then begins.

With a simple count-in the trio launches into a mind-blowing jam. The three are locked in with one another in a way that I've never seen before. They seem to communicate telepathically as the song changes meters and sections. Indeed, the freeform pieces take as much from progressive rock as they do modal and electric jazz. Krantz's technique is hypnotizing: dissonant comping is utilized along with angular melodic lines to create an exotic, frayed sound. Tim Lefebvre, the aforementioned bassist, strikes a balance between holding down a groove and improvising lines in such an aura of confidence and ease that it seems almost impossible. His Fender Jazz Bass, with its tortoise shell pickguard, alternates from low-end thumping to trebly twanging as the song changes shape. Last but certainly not least is drummer Keith Carlock. He holds the whole thing together and then some with his tight yet full-sounding percussion work. The range of expression he milks from an otherwise unassuming drum kit is remarkable. He plays the entire performance with his eyes closed, never needing visual cues from his bandmates.

Almost as impressive as the musicianship on stage is the not-so-subtle use of electronics to modify the tones of the guitar and bass. Krantz is fond of the ring modulator, a device that implements frequency mixing to create a jarring, partial-rich tone that was originally used by electric keyboardists like Chick Corea. He never over-uses the effect and neither does Lefebvre, who also colors his bass tone with the effect. Another device used in the performance is a loop pedal, a piece of equipment that records passages played by the musician and replays them automatically, giving the player a chance to then play over the created loop. Again, it is used strategically to emphasize certain portions of the songs and never to show off.

This brings me to the most impressive theme that runs throughout the entire performance: taste. All three musicians have impeccable taste, that hard-to-pin-down ability to perpetually add harmonic curveballs to a song without putting yourself in the spotlight. Yes, the entire night I am sent on an adventure and don't want a single song to conclude. Halfway through I begin to close my eyes and try to imagine the sonic world they are creating. But just as soon as this all began, it abruptly ends with a "Thank you, goodnight!" from Krantz and the three make their way backstage. No encore, that's the end. But, how could I leave disappointed when the short time the trio took the stage was so enjoyable? I didn't and it was certainly a trip.