“The Picasso of jazz drummers, Paul Motian reveals his mastery in sly and disorienting ways,” wrote Michael Parillo in Modern Drummer magazine, of the recent ECM trio release “I Have The Room Above Her”. “Garden of Eden” offers yet more angles from which to apprehend Motian’s uniquely personal approaches to music making. Recorded in New York in 2004, “Garden of Eden” is the first ECM album by the group previously known as the Paul Motian Electric Bebop Band, the name-change reflecting a modified artistic agenda. Bebop and bebop-influenced material remain a significant part of the group’s palette but increasingly Motian’s own material is a priority, and it is sensitively illuminated by Paul’s “personal orchestra”, the guitars (three of them now) and saxes group he formed at the beginning of the 1990s. Chris Cheek (tenor and alto saxophone), Tony Malaby (tenor saxophone), Jakob Bro (guitar), Ben Monder (guitar), Steve Cardenas (guitar), Jerome Harris (bass), Paul Motian (drums). 14 Tracks. Recorded in New York in 2004. Listening to Paul Motian’s music can bring to mind architect Mies van der Rohe’s celebrated adage that his work aimed for an effect of „almost nothing“. In the case of both Mies and Motian, their magisterial art might belie their intent, but fashioning much from less has continued to be as essential a modus operandi for the New York jazz drummer as it was for the German visionary. … Motian’s genius lies in maintaining an understated, lingering tension, thus dissolving any vestiges of New Age moistness. By keeping the bass and guitar parts harmonically indirect, and by positioning substantive, if concise, improvisations from saxophonists Tony Malaby and Chris Cheek, Motian – his now-murmuring, now-biting, always unpredictable drumming commenting on it all from beneath – ensures edginess. … The Drummer’s own tunes are deliberately simple in content and form, the better to cast attention onto the subtly morphing group landscape. For the most part, individual performances remain subordinate to the collective character of the septet. Standing against Motian’s effectively communal concept, the ego-informed bravura of much contemporary jazz comes up glaringly empty. (Steve Futterman, Washington Post)