If you've heard Jaga Jazzist, you've heard Martin Horntveth, even if you weren't paying attention to the drum chair specifically. He's one of three Horntveth siblings in the band — his brother Lars Horntveth writes most of the material, his sister Line Horntveth plays tuba and bass — and Martin is the one holding the rhythmic center of a group that refuses to stay in one genre long enough to get comfortable.

What makes him interesting isn't flash. It's that he plays drums like someone who grew up on prog rock, big band jazz, and electronic music at the same time, because he did. Jaga Jazzist albums like A Livingroom Hush (2001) and What We Must (2005) move through horn-section swing, motorik rock pulses, and ambient electronic passages in the space of a single track, and Horntveth is the guy making those gear shifts feel natural instead of jarring.

He's also not a one-band guy. Over the years he's turned up in noise-and-improv outfits like Ultralyd, pushing further into free playing and electronics than Jaga Jazzist's more arranged sound usually allows. That side project tells you something real about him: the big, colorful orchestral records are only half the story, and he's just as happy inside a messier, more abrasive set of sounds.

What you should expect going in: this is not straight-ahead jazz drumming, and if you're looking for a ride cymbal swinging through standards, look elsewhere. Horntveth's playing works best as part of Jaga Jazzist's larger machine — a dense, layered sound with horns, synths, vibraphone, and guitar all competing for space — where his job is less about soloing and more about making an unruly ensemble breathe together.

He's not a drummer you'd put on a list of jazz innovators in the traditional sense, and he'd probably laugh at the idea. But within Norway's small, tightly connected jazz-and-rock scene, he's been a steady, inventive presence for three decades, helping make Jaga Jazzist one of the few bands that actually sounds like nothing else around it.