His immersion in the Barcelona scene becomes evident as soon as you read the roster on the sleeve. The quintet he puts together for this performance is the who’s who of the Catalan jazz and experimental niches. Much like Trujillo himself, bassist Masa Kamaguchi is a former New York transplant, currently living and working in Barcelona, and over the years, he has lent his nimble, lyrical style to scores of projects. Percussionist Ramon Prats is a long-standing fixture in international jazz, known both as a prominent educator and a highly versatile improviser. And then there is the ace up Trujillo’s sleeve – the double tenor attack of Albert Cirera and Miguel “Pinxto” Villar. Known as much for their vigorous playing and encyclopedic knowledge as they are for their fearless plunges into the avant-garde; the pairing of their saxophones becomes the engine that drives the record – a dense and vast harmonic field.

Trujillo guides the performance with utmost deftness, his agile, soulful playing imbued with both a reverence for traditions past and an acute hunger to pursue a new out-branching. He stirs his quintet with a decidedly un-rigid hand, the line between preparation and improvisation dipping in and out of view – it is a magnificent display, seasoned pros falling into a tight rhythm, daring and fully in view.

All of Trujillo’s instincts find their pocket with thunderous grace. On the five-piece electric rework of his 2024 acoustic highlight, “Howl,” he uses diagonal lines to intermittently slice clean through the saxes, a sharp dissonance that stays with the listener long after it peters out. As the two tenors collide in overlapping, multiphonic lines, Prats puts on a masterclass in gestural percussion, a show of rise and decay at irregular intervals.

On “Conflagration,” the rhythm section does away with fixed signatures, and builds a fluid and highly responsive intensity. Villar and Cirera plait together into a two-headed beast, and Trujillo’s mournful angular lines lead the way to an appropriately shattering dedication to a Los Angeles ravaged by fires.

A long-time admirer and advocate of the genius of Andrew Hill, Trujillo paints a pointed tribute to the pianist on “Humo.” In a true nod to Hill’s propensity for pursuing harmonic ambiguity and lack of resolution, Trujillo’s melodic phrases crumple in the air, suspended in unreality and tantrically irresolute. Kamaguchi’s bass becomes a midflight beacon here, elegant and oddly buoyant.

Closer “Jardin” is all patience at first, starting its near-12 minute run with fragmented, exploratory guitar, before Trujillo phases it back, turning his instrument into a powerful textural force, laying down the foundation from which the other four players lurch and veer into a profound conversation. The telepathy on display is nothing short of astonishing.

Everything works here and everything hits just right. What this album truly represents is the triumph and culmination of Trujillo as an original force. The years spent in academia, hustling across several scenes, and the person who has emerged at the end of it all – a skillful veteran who has not lost any of the gleam in his eye, who is still exploring. On Música Para Quinteto, Trujillo’s and his ensemble puts on a starkly beautiful clinic in what earnest and intrepid dialogue truly can be.