The same could be said for Atolón, whose four tracks are further proof that the barriers that once existed between free improvisation and noise are coming down fast. And in the sunshine of Barcelona at that. Alfredo Costa Monteiro and Ferran Fages have released several albums as Cremaster (though not using the same instrumentation), and trumpeter Ruth Barberán previously teamed up with Costa Monteiro and Matt Davis in I Treni Inerti (now sadly disbanded, but not before leaving us the splendid Ura album on Creative Sources). Goodness knows what Fages' "acoustic turntable" is or does (answers will be provided to this question in forthcoming issues, fear not), but it makes a hell of a racket. Indeed, one of the distinctive things about this album is its avoidance of silence: from nails-on-blackboard squeaks to hot water spat into your ear to what sounds like seagulls in a paper bag being slowly crushed to death, this is definitely the one you ought to play to your Love Supreme-loving uncle when he comes at you with that dumbfuck "oh yeah well after all free improvisation basically comes from free jazz, dunnit?" line. If he's still alive half way through track three he'll probably kill you. Awesome stuff.
Dan Warburton Paris Transatlantique