Larry Stabbins & Mark Sanders: Cup & Ring

Inspired by the 5000 year old Neolithic rock carvings pictured on the sleeve, Cup & Ring opens and closes with brooding, ritualistic pieces in which Larry Stabbins' breathy flute drifts like mist over Mark Sanders' deliberate, processional percussion. These atmospheric bookends, along with similarly spare interludes throughout, frame a set grounded more deeply in the language of free jazz—a realm both musicians know intimately.

Stabbins, returning to performance after a lengthy hiatus, brings a layered backstory to this project. His resume includes pivotal collaborations with figures such as Peter Brötzmann, Keith Tippett, Tony Oxley, and Louis Moholo-Moholo, in addition to surprising tenure in the 1980s pop-jazz crossover band Working Week. Perhaps that sensibility informs his improvisational approach: even at his most abstract, a fondness for catchy extemporized motifs and a certain lyrical restraint tempers the expected flares of extended technique. He operates at a low simmer, one that only rarely erupts into a boil.

Sanders demonstrates once again his skill at transforming timbral explorations into a clattering pulse without recourse to overt meter. It is a talent which has made him one of the most in demand drummers, not only on the UK scene, where he has been integral to the groups of Evan Parker, Paul Dunmall, and John Butcher, but also internationally with Wadada Leo Smith, Matthew Shipp, Myra Melford, and Charles Gayle, among a host of others. While he avoids conventional solos here, Sanders regularly escalates the energy level, sharpening his attack and tightening his phrasing once Stabbins locks into spirited reiterations.

The album divides into eleven tracks—five titled "Cup," where Stabbins favors concert and alto flutes, and six labeled "Ring," which showcase his work on bass clarinet and alto saxophone. Though the instrumentation might suggest that Eric Dolphy loomed large in his formative years, Stabbins' playing veers elsewhere now. More explicit is his homage to Ornette Coleman, where on "Ring 3" he follows harsh buzzsaw alto shrieks with the bluesy contours of "Lonely Woman." On bass clarinet, his tone moves fluidly from warm, woody burr to animated yelps, balancing the occasional squalls with a persistent melodic undertow.

Far removed from the high-octane reed-drums model of John Coltrane's Interstellar Space (Impulse 1974), Cup & Ring privileges gradual development over ecstatic release. Climaxes arrive, but their transience only underscores the drama of the ascent. Like the titular engravings, the real interest resides not in the briefly attained peaks but can be found in the crags and outcrops along the way.

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