Donny McCaslin, Lullaby for the Lost Review

Collective Urgency: Donny McCaslin’s Lullaby for the Lost

By Nolan DeBuke

With Lullaby for the Lost, Donny McCaslin delivers one of the most creative and immersive statements of his career. This is not a subtle record, nor does it aim to be. Instead, it leans fully into contemporary energy, electric timbre, and emotional force. This shapes the music that surrounds the listener rather than politely addressing them. McCaslin’s long-standing ensemble operates here as a living organism, making music that tells a story through collective momentum, texture, and deep listening.

The album sits squarely in the lineage McCaslin helped redefine during and after David Bowie’s Blackstar, the 2016 recording that fused Bowie’s songwriting with a forward-leaning jazz ensemble, dense electronic textures, and a sense of existential urgency.  I Want More (released in 2018) marked McCaslin’s declaration of boundless creative appetite. Lullaby for the Lost deepens the roots from the seeds of this language. First sowed in David Bowie’s Blackstar, where art-rock songwriting collided with modern jazz improvisation and studio-driven intensity. On I Want More, that hybrid aesthetic was expansive, muscular, and forward-thrusting. Here, it becomes more immersive and emotionally charged, with sound design, ensemble density, and urgency taking the narrative weight to a new growth of thrill.

The ensemble brings contemporary jazz infused with rock’s physicality, electronic abstraction, and a producer’s ear for space and saturation. Lullaby for the Lost is powered by a deeply connected ensemble. Jason Lindner’s keyboards create a flexible harmonic and textural environment, Tim Lefebvre anchors the music on electric bass while expanding the palette as producer, and Ben Monder’s guitar shapes the energy of the album’s emotional terrain. Alternating drummers Zach Danziger and Nate Wood bring motion and volatility, with Jonathan Maron adding bass depth. The result is a collective sound built on listening and shared intent.

“Wasteland” is a sonically saturated expression of sound. Harmony remains largely static, shifting focus toward orchestration and dynamic growth. McCaslin’s tenor doesn’t sit on top of the texture, but burns within it, functioning more like a lead vocalist in a band setting than a traditional jazz-led soloist. Guitar effects, modern synth tones, and a slow-building rhythmic gravity establish a mood of urgency and resolve. This is a statement of intent: atmosphere over display, collective storytelling over individual spotlight.

Groove-centered and cyclical, “Solace” draws from R&B and electric jazz traditions while remaining unmistakably modern. The form is easy to follow and memorable, even as unconventionally heard sounds in jazz production treatments blur the edges. McCaslin’s saxophone phrasing is singer-shaped and lyrical, his solo developing from a central rhythmic idea with patience and clarity. Spoken-word textures processed through effects add a futuristic edge, while the band listens deeply, shaping momentum through subtle shifts rather than overt contrast.

A restrained, spacious ballad, “Stately” unfolds with textured presence and emotional economy. Every instrument sounds like a character in the narrative. Monder’s guitar textures are essential, guiding the flow and mood with authority. McCaslin’s shaping of the melody, through dynamics, articulation, and color, anchors the piece. Nothing rushes here. The music invites close listening, offering a growing form of intensity.

Compact and rhythmically direct, “Blond Crush” leans unapologetically into rock territory. A straight 8th-note pulse drives the track forward with momentum. Synths and drums fuel the energy, while McCaslin’s effected sax solo engages in a playful dialogue with Lindner’s synths, trading ideas rather than dominating the space. It’s immediate and assertive, adding to the album’s expansive textures. This is a clear example of McCaslin’s genre-blurring instincts.

Originating spontaneously during a soundcheck in Fano, Italy, “Celestial” retains the openness of its improvised roots. Modal harmony and fluid ensemble roles allow the piece to evolve organically. Repeated sax figures create hypnotic momentum, while Lindner’s synths and Wood’s dynamic groove shape the arc. This is contemporary jazz grounded equally in rock, electronica, and pop sensibility, developing a sound that is exploratory without losing focus.

“Tokyo Game Show” brings motifs that nod to vintage 1980s video game soundtracks, with the performance becoming a kinetic exploration of rhythm and texture. Layers of polymodal color, Middle Eastern inflections at times, and shifting rhythmic emphasis create constant motion. The tension-and-release architecture is shared across the ensemble, with synths and McCaslin’s angular phrasing keeping the energy vivid and engaging.

“Lullaby for the Lost,” the title track, sets its emotional mood with a slow harmonic movement and sustained guitar textures. Monder’s guitar brings a rich rock sensibility, while McCaslin’s sax operates within the texture rather than above it. Inspired in part by Neil Young’s Le Noise, the piece feels naturally built through patience and attention to detail rather than resolution.

Driven by Lefebvre’s bass motif, “KID” thrives on repetition and groove. The trio-based setting highlights immediacy and interaction, with improvisation building through accumulation rather than expansion. Hypnotic and restless, the track balances abstraction with physical drive, reinforcing the album’s fascination with motion and tension.

Closing the album, “Mercy” unfolds slowly, letting the energy from the album settle after an intense journey.  The music dissolves into something meditative as the ensemble prioritizes sustain, harmonic color, and cohesion, allowing the record to settle without fully resolving. It’s a gentle recession rather than a conclusion with space left open for reflection.

Lullaby for the Lost is not background music. It rewards attention and listeners willing to engage with its soundscapes. McCaslin and the ensemble excel at constructing vivid sonic environments that range from atmospheric to otherworldly, and a precision that keeps the music grounded even at its most explosive.

Balancing the visceral energy of rock influences with the exploratory sophistication of modern jazz, the album feels immediate with live-band chemistry. Lullaby for the Lost is a forward-thinking statement from an artist fully engaged with the present, pushing his language outward without losing its human core.