Michel Doneda, Jack Wright and Tatsuya Nakatani recorded this album in Le Havre (France) in 2005, using saxophones, percussion and various objects. Opulence not included. Splashy panoramas of restricted areas are sapiently sabotaged by these undersellers of expressive freedom, their urge of playing coalescing with omnivorous fantasies in fertile terrains of impetus and geniality. Doneda and Wright are two cavaliers of the unpredictable, launching questions without thinking about the efficacy of what should have been planned in advance and instead was discarded; their saxophones gauge the thickness of presumed inquiring minds, demonstrating that there’s still too much to learn before being able to instantly decode their gestures. Nakatani closes the doors after them, sometimes through impressive bass drum thunders, somewhere else finding a percussive lyricism which he loves to strain until it shatters into lyophilized metallic riptides. Given the less than normal circumstances, it’s a miracle that the brain is still working after listening to this material. Then again, mine seems to work much better now.