(Clean Feed)

If jazz is not method but purity of intents, then James Finn should be regarded as one of today’s saviours of the genre. His unrepressed, almost desperate spiralling pulmonary storms possess a propulsive energy which avoids any esoterism, his tenor sax a link to the visceral rage of total non-belonging. More than the hommage to the “corrida” that it symbolizes, “Plaza de toros” sounds like a fight against the worn out friendliness of many passionless lessons in futility; Dominic Duval’s fantastic arco work – listen to him in “El tercio de Varas” to get the picture – is like the silent companion of a crying man, ready to sustain him through lucidity of analysis and strength of limbs. The fractal drumming of Warren Smith is the completion of a long series of perfect natural spurts of life, which are also luminous portraits of three egoless artists whose playing is refreshingly deep and outrageously spiritual.

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