, where the hustling, pawning of saxophones, and recurring substance abuse led to his passing. This fast-paced memorial is conceivably exercised on a broad plane via the trio's loose, but pummeling ostinatos, nestled within a fractured loop of concepts.
Guionnet's rough-hewn tone is built on animated and staggered phrasings. Throughout the band's relentless momentum, he carves out a tumultuous soundscape, filtered through the buoyant rhythmic element. Repetitive to some extent, the in-your-face gait offers a forum for extensive improvisation; nonetheless, it's a high-impact endeavor that must have kept the audience on the edge of its seats.
The musicians exude angst, chaos and a locomotive-like cyclical impetus, tinted with a guttural underpinning via blistering choruses and understated variations. A relatively young band, the artists stay on target by engineering a consistent foundation, and do not simply waver into a free-form abyss during the course of the proceedings. The Ames Room provides a tensely articulated mosaic of sound, transposed into a blueprint for originality, which is a commendable attribute when considering these avant-garde-based endeavors.
Track Listing: Bird Dies.
Personnel: Jean Luc Guionnet: alto saxophone; Clayton Thomas: double bass;
Will Guthrie: drums.