Each track of Sanctified unfolds like a panorama seen from the window of a train, beginning with the idyll of “Aaricia’s Moods.” The opening moments feature J.B. Biesmans on flute, blowing alone, then over filmy, free-tempo chords on bass and Rhodes. When the groove kicks in, we’re into a five-beat vamp, E-minor to F, back and forth, that rolls us toward the ’60s. The title song follows, with another two-chord pattern played dreamily on electric piano—until a seven-bar horn line blares over a trudging beat and what sounds like a bunch of guys getting punched in the gut. A vocal line, accessible melodically but cryptic lyrically, threads after that from straightforward verses into a diminished-chord bridge and back, as if from sunlight into mist and sunlight again. And so it goes. The instrumentals take us to the retro-funk well again and again, with themes stated by horns in unison or octaves. Presumably Biesmans plays these simultaneously, given their bellow and bray in the fashion of Rahsaan Les McCann and bossa nova on “Las Niñas De La Mancha” or milking the wah-wah pedal on “Brownies For Dinner,” the instrumentals maintain an aggressively retro reference. The vocals, though, are less predictable. “The Dun” is ominous, filled with shadowy silences between a thumping tom, a scraped bass ostinato and an elusive story about a “man on a silver mountain.” Things get darker still on “The Wake,” again with bowed upright and muffled drums, this time framing a tale of urban woe that Tom Waits might have written in the St. James Infirmary. “Communicate,” conversely, is a street party, with a drum-strut beat and an amen corner shouting behind a lyric that promises repeatedly to “get that feeling.” On that point, TB4Q succeeds, not so much through its playing as its suggestions.