The Berlin Quartet PHILM has the signs of the times in its sight, and they are right on target. Saxophonist and leader Philipp Gropper, pianist Elias Stemeseder, bassist Robert Landfermann and drummer Oliver Steidle steer clear of postmodernist clichés; instead of highlighting individuals, they prefer to shine together as a group. They are not so much concerned with deconstructing and grandstanding; instead they focus on creating and sharing. Something that’s old-fashioned and revolutionary at the same time. PHILM’s sound is tight and quick, and still has plenty of space to float and fade away. The band doesn’t senselessly scream in your face, and Landfermann and Steidle are not just any rhythm group; they are constantly building a tightly interlocked sound machine. Gropper and Stemeseder propel them, nudge them into shifting into and out of hellishly quick tempos, raising and lowering the emotional heat. Philipp Gropper’s saxophone doesn’t cling to the smooth schmaltz of the past. It has an edgy sound, yet it isn’t cold, since his motivic ideas often evolve out of a spherical melancholy. Pianist Elias Stemeseder has a knack for strangely abstracted melodies that contain a sense of urgency at the same time. Yet he has no trouble taking a different tack when the music demands it. Next, he turns on an atmospheric switch through electronic interjections and excursions that reverberate in the direction of pure noise. PHILM refines the classic quartet sound of 1960s: no irony, no quotes, no intellectual theatricality, just superb sound and technique. The consequences – challenges, surprises and listening pleasure.