Carl Schultz, The Road to Trantor Review

Mapping the Modern Frontier: Carl Schultz’s Journey Through The Road to Trantor

by Nolan DeBuke

Modern jazz thrives on imagination and rhythms of today, and Carl Schultz approaches it like a composer-explorer mapping the leading edge of this musical frontier. The Road to Trantor unfolds as a sonic expedition that blends contemporary jazz vocabulary, fusion textures, and sci-fi-infused atmospheres into one cohesive narrative. The album is a balance of virtuosity and the interlocking chemistry of the ensemble. The album offers a treasure of modern phrasing, rhythmic layering, and ensemble interplay that rewards analytical attention and pure listening.

Schultz plays with a tenor sound equal parts warmth and bite. His tone is solidly grounded, yet sharpened at the edges when intensity demands it. His phrasing toggles between airy, breath-laden lyricism and tightly articulated flurries, all shaped by a keen sense of pacing and spatial architecture. Around him, the ensemble’s sonic palette is rich. Around him, the ensemble builds vivid landscapes with Tim Wendel’s guitar adding color and harmonic contour, Adam Benjamin’s piano and Rhodes painting with shifting textures, Zack Teran’s bass adding propulsion to every bar, and Alwyn Robinson’s drums supplying forward thrust and painterly detail.

Let’s explore three tracks in particular, “Psychohistory,” “Ecumenopolis,” and “The Spirit of Adventure.” These illuminate the album’s compositional ambition and the group’s deeply conversational performances.

“Psychohistory” opens with a catchy obstinate figure, a rhythmic engine that immediately shapes the piece with its algorithmic repetition. That pattern spurs an expanding melody, one that frames the album’s contemporary identity. Benjamin blends Rhodes textures into a fluid harmonic mesh, while Tim Wendel’s guitar figures slip between chordal punctuations and atmospheric color.

The rhythm section sets the propulsion. Teran’s bass line drives with a clear, muscular pulse, while Robinson begins with snare-focused textures, shaping the air around the groove more than locking rigidly into it. As the track evolves, the rhythmic feel becomes more industrial and constant, establishing a fusion-leaning soundscape for Benjamin’s solo. His improvisation is a study in texture: metallic attacks, swelling pads, shifting timbres.

When Schultz solos, the entire sonic field reorganizes. His tone balances warmth and bite; he cuts through the ensemble without ever feeling divorced from it. His soloing is developmental with breath-filled lines flowing with organic ease, then contracting into crisp, staccato articulations that act like sculpted punctuation. The contrast gives his phrases an elasticity of emotion and highlights a modern tenor voice rooted in lyric lineage while pointing toward new terrain.

Where “Psychohistory” rides rhythmic machinery, “Ecumenopolis” thrives on contrapuntal interplay. Wendel and Benjamin weave independent lines that knot and unspool around Schultz’s melody, creating a colorful, swirling texture. This interlacing motion is essential in creating a composition and performance that moves in layers. The composition itself is strongly contrapuntal, and the members embrace that design wholeheartedly.

Schultz’s tenor is subtly processed here, with effects that expand the timbral halo without dulling the center of his sound. His lines build in arcs, and he uses space to frame his ideas with brief pockets of silence that reset the ensemble conversation. Wendel answers those spaces with melodic wisps, Benjamin with harmonic colorations.

The groove is anchored by Teran, whose warm, grounding bass tone allows the contrapuntal elements to move fluidly above it. Robinson provides a masterclass in interactive drumming: dynamic swells, ghost-note chatter, and rhythmic nudges that respond to Schultz in real time. The nu-jazz sensibility is unmistakable as it is groove-oriented, harmonically exploratory, and texturally alive.

If “Ecumenopolis” highlights ensemble interplay, “The Spirit of Adventure” focuses squarely on Schultz’s expressive range. The composition provides a lyrical contemporary framework, and Schultz seizes it with a solo that moves between contrasting emotional states.

His improvisation alternates between crisp, articulated bursts and flowing, breath-laden lines. The relaxed attack he uses as a bridge between the two creates a seamless conversational flow. Long phrases glide as if sung; then, to build energy, Schultz launches into ultra-fast, highly articulated flurries that expand the energy without sacrificing the flow.

Meanwhile, Benjamin’s keys open space rather than crowd it, Wendel’s guitar adds color, Teran shapes the bass line with a gentle push, and Robinson reacts dynamically to Schultz’s changing momentum. The effect is a solo that is exploratory and grounded, making for an adventurous and connected performance.

Across these three pieces, Schultz establishes himself as a tenor player who synthesizes tradition and modernity with fluency. His tone remains expressive and centered even when colored with effects. His articulation ranges from breathy warmth to staccato precision. His phrasing evolves logically, marked by narrative pacing rather than virtuosic overwhelm.

The ensemble’s contributions are just as crucial. Wendel, Benjamin, Teran, and Robinson are co-creators in the design of each performance. Their interplay demonstrates modern jazz ensemble design at a high level with flexible grooves, layered textures, and responsive dialogue.

The Road to Trantor is a modern jazz album that lands at a very high level. For saxophonists, it’s a study in contemporary phrasing, tone coloring, and musical storytelling. For jazz fans, it offers a richly textured soundworld where improvisation, groove, and atmosphere meet with purpose. Schultz and his band create a journey worth taking as this is modern jazz with vision, crafted by musicians who understand where the tradition comes from and where the future might lead.