Avant garde multi-instrumentalists and vocalists Ernesto Diaz-Infante and Rent Romus have carved out a niche as prolific, confrontational, and politically motivated recording artists. Novo Navigatio features Diaz-Infante, Romus and eleven other musicians. It resembles other Pax recordings in terms of the materials that it uses: a wide assortment of instruments, from autoharp to c-melody saxophone, are put through experimental contortions, and field recordings and spoken word excursions are added to the mix. However, while vitriolic anger at the current state of our country's political affairs is a frequent reference point for both Diaz-Infante and Romus, Novo Navigatio comes on very strong indeed -- chiefly due to some acerbically worded lyrics, penned by the group's flutist, Marjorie Sturm, and percussionist Philip Everett.

Back to back songs "Our Governor Schwarzenegger" and "Media & Money our deMOCKracy" make it very clear where The Abstractions stand on the results of the recall election. "So absurd sad surreal, Schwarzenegger is our governor, where the ____ should we run for?" is chanted in a resigned monotone over a pensive free jazz backdrop. "Christian Bush" has a similar arrangement -- the President is attacked regarding the hypocrisy of his professed religious beliefs in contrast with the Enron scandals and the Iraq War; its repeated refrain: "'Cause the Devil is never inside... it's over there". Unfortunately, while The Abstractions seem riled by the oversimplifed and judgemental nature of politicized religious statements, their own characterizations of "White America" and "White Christians" are similarly pat and simplistic.

The Abstractions make more interesting music when they get away from ranting. Vocal piece "Red Dusk over Red Dawn" simultaneously evokes electronic tone poems and avant-jazz, with spooky, Pierrot Lunaire-like sprechstimme to boot -- a very cool combination of sound-worlds. "Freedom from the Known" is another brief, saxophone-filled instrumental in which angular riffs crackle with enthusiasm. "Lament the Fallen" channels The Abstractions' political concerns into a more focused eloquence. It's a brief expanse of field recordings, sound effects and dissonant flurries, and it's humbling in its deftly played, economically rendered poignancy. Little gems like this justify enduring Novo Navigatio's few ill-advised tantrums.