by Thom Jurek 　　He may call it "Zen Funk," but the real question is, what the hell is this? Swiss pianist and composer Nik Bartsch's Ronin have issued their ECM debut, Stoa, the label well-known for its icy sounding, spacious jazz. ECM has been pushing the envelope for nearly 40 years, but with Ronin, they've pushed it beyond the pale into God knows what. This is not a bad thing, however. Ronin was a group created with the idea of playing live. And over the course of three previous records issued only in Europe, the band -- birthed in 2001 when Bartsch was 30 -- plays a highly disciplined style of music that relies on interlocking rhythm, groove, and groups of tight, short melodic statements all stacked on top of one another. There are those who will immediately think of Steve Reich's minimalist discipline, but there are no equations to be solved here. It's math music to be sure, but its also got the good foot, the deep bass, and the drum ostinatos of James Brown & His Famous Flames or the JB's, or even the deep soul tight backbeat toughness of the best Stax rhythm sections. Bartsch has listened to everything from Reich and Terry Riley to techno and the Necks (there is a beautiful nod to them at the beginning of the opener "Modul 36"). Bartsch's melodic ideas are trance-like and hypnotic. They come across more as rhythmic statements than actual melodic ideas. There are Eastern aesthetics at work here in the stripped-down elementalism in this music. It's full of discipline and is depersonalized so that the ensemble comes off as one voice. It's clear Bartsch has spent time listening to some of the best experimental electronic music by artists such as Apparat, Thomas Brinkmann, Pole, Basic Channel, and Pan Sonic. And while there is improvisation in Ronin's attack, it's structured and tightly woven into Bartsch's compositional structures. What makes the band tick is the rhythm section as Bartsch works his modulated and shuffled lyrical fragments against the section, assisted ably and minimally by Sha on contrabass and bass clarinets (who acts as another part of the rhythm section more than as a soloist or melodist). It's bassist Bjorn Meyer, percussionist Andi Pupato, and especially the brilliant drummer Kaspar Rast making it all happen in real time. Bartsch plays a standard concert grand, but he also uses a Fender Rhodes. There is a sleek chrome and matte black, post-postmodernist, Euro-funky attack in sections of "Modul 33." It begins with a near dissonant ambience -- created by small percussion instruments and bell-like gongs -- that David Toop would cream over. But it's toward the center where the action is: Bartsch puts the overdrive in his left-hand work in the middle register in a series of modulations that start from the middle of a ...