When first released n 2001, it had been nine years since his last studio album. Coasting on a series of ‘best of’s and live excursions, there was a suspicion that the normally prolific electronic violinist was ready to enter the pantheon and embrace his rich heritage – and there’d be no shame in that, given the heft of his musical yield up to that point. isn’t a riposte, exactly; it nevertheless dispelled any suggestion that Ponty was a spent force creatively.
Billed as a throwback to the Atlantic years – where the Frenchman enjoyed a roaringly successful 10-year-period between 1975 and 1985 – it’s an album that’s more forward thinking than any implication of revisiting former glories. Ponty’s previous two records had been collaborative efforts, one with Al Di Meola and Stanley Clarke ( ) and the other with a company of African musicians ( ). Here, he’s largely solo at his own Enigmatic Studio, with longtime bandmates making guest appearances rather than coming together collectively.
Ponty programmes most of the drums and percussion himself, which throws up the confounding realisation that the world’s most famous fusion violinist is au fait with drum’n’ bass, having a decent stab at a variation on the genre on one of the record’s highlights, . The Infinite brings together synthy electronics with Latin grooves, though because of the nature of recording at home, it all feels a lot more contained and intimate than the expansive 70s ever did. , where.
