Music that sounds improvised but was meticulously composed — Threadgill's strangest and most rewarding work.
By 1995, Henry Threadgill had already spent decades dismantling what jazz was supposed to be. Carry the Day (1995) is him at peak restlessness — a record that sounds like it might fall apart any second but never does. The Very Very Circus, his ensemble for this album, includes Brandon Ross and Masujaa on guitars, Jason Kao Hwang on violin, Tony Cedras on accordion, and dual tubas in Edwin Rodriguez and Marcus Rojas. Add Wu Man on pipa, Gene Lake on drums, and Johnny Rudas and Miguel Urvina on percussion, and you have something genuinely strange: a big band that sounds like organized chaos.
Threadgill's six compositions here have that quality Don Heckman nailed in the Los Angeles Times — they possess "the impetuous, unexpected energy of an improvised solo" even though nothing here was left to chance. Carry the Day (1995) is harder than it needs to be. It asks you to sit with sounds that don't resolve neatly, rhythms that tilt sideways, and orchestrations that seem to be arguing with themselves. AllMusic reviewer Scott Yanow gave it 4½ stars and admitted the music "takes several listens to absorb and even then it still might be somewhat incomprehensible." That's not a flaw — it's the whole point.
This is Threadgill doing exactly what he'd always done: writing for the margins, refusing categories, making listeners work. It's not a departure or a summation. It's a composer still hunting for sounds nobody else thought to ask for, with musicians who could actually play them.