Many players and composers have attempted to forge a connection between free improvisation and composition. How, one might wonder, can we retain the looseness and innovation of improve, but also make use of the clarity of structure and complexity of message that is only possible through notation? And there is always a danger of Frankensteinian results with any musical fusion, making them a difficult rope to walk.

Nevertheless, Tony Malaby's compositions on this disk seem largely dedicated to this difficult pursuit. On "Jackhat" and "Jackhat 2," for example, the players begin in purely free mode, chirping, scraping, and quietly honking like stars in the constellation Incus. Eventually, though, the sounds almost imperceptibly gel into a jaunty figure played on the saxophone and glockenspiel. Composition and improvisation are on a continuum here, slowly shading into one another.

With other pieces, Malaby's structures are more sectional, and to that degree more familiar approaches to "comprovisation." On "Sky Church," the group at first seems to gravitate toward the nuanced non-tonality of Bevan/Kingston/Lewis, but John Hollenbeck largely reins in that inclination by engaging in a bout of Big Drumming. The track evolves into a more stentorian piece, the rhythm section now a backdrop as Malaby spins out an angular solo. "Chicotaso" travels a similar arc in its compositional approach.

Not all the pieces on the CD, however, catch Malaby with his fingers in such disparate compositional pies. The opener, "Warblepeck," is a magnificently off-kilter tune featuring odd time signature shifts and polyrhythmic beats. Although Malaby seems to briefly solo atop the driving rhythms, the song seems more about creating a group dynamic that centers on the quirky groove. "Scribble boy" is an eyebrow-raiser that has Hollenbeck locked into a slow R&B groove, while cellist Lonberg-Holm and Malaby interweave searching harmelodic lines across the steady beat. Further variety is found in "Waiting Inside," a haunting Morricone-esque piece written by guitarist Bill Frisell.

As a player, Malaby seems overall less comfortable with and suited for the more open-ended interludes on the album. When his playing is pushed along with steady rhythmic momentum, his tenor sax tone is keening and edgy, somewhat evocative of Jan Garbarek's. Oddly, however, his axe practically loses its voice, its sense of assertion, in the sections that are most like free improvisation. And this is not due to the differences of compositional approach: Fred Lonberg-Holm's cello playing, for example, makes authoritative gestures during even the open sections of "Chicotaso," while Malaby's sax playing does not.

Ultimately, "Warblepeck" is a mercurial CD, as difficult to categorize as the unique and varied pieces it contains. There are moments of brilliance here; while others � either in composition or execution �seem to be not quite sure what they want to be.