In the barbed-wired pastures of what we used to identify as “reductionism”, coming out with something sounding fresh beyond doubt has by now become next to unfeasible. Yet this production by Daniel Jones and David Papapostolou is brilliant under any aspect, a sense of charily conceived composition demonstrated across circa 42 minutes of rather inscrutable improvisation. Jones, who performs on turntables, dulcimer and acoustic guitar, is the “warm” side of the duo: he plays sparsely, letting each gesture weigh conspicuously in the recurring frames of stillness that the music frequently proposes. The combination of straightforward thud ‘n’ pluck and unkind string resonance (frequently bordering on saturation-filled neighbourhoods) which forms the basis of his vocabulary is balanced by a sensitively deployed arrangement of different varieties of held tones, often “just” piercing, in some instance even nerve-twitching. Papapostolou utilizes a computer with pickup and the feedback of a mixing desk to generate abrupt stabs of unsympathetic thickness and protracted segments of buzzing enchantment, quite distant from conventionally intended “Nakamura purposes” and, exactly for this reason, endowed with a distinctive, enticing trait causing an immediate acceptance of the conveyed message. Wobbly pulses and subsonic grumbles are augmented by dazzling halos generated by rarely materializing “regular” harmonic waves, single touches of stringed wealth vanishing in the land of hum and hiss, our concentration remaining indefatigably acute after several increasingly rigorous listens. Outstanding stuff.