This concert was recorded in 1975, but sounds astonishingly modern and articulated in all its nuances. Bailey and Parker dialogue frankly, their instrumental voices devoid of any cerimoniousness as their respective identities slowly come out like vapor, images of geniuses at work. Bailey’s uncanny ability to elicit harmonics and splintered bends from every part of his guitar is, to this day, uniquely puzzling: when we’re caught defenceless, enjoying suave stereo panning and tastefully shimmering fretwork, he slashes our presumptions with sheer string dissonance and rusty chords. Parker uses both soprano and tenor, the man’s hugeness in the history of saxophone already demonstrated here at enormous potentials. His playing stubbornly fights the vulgarity of cheap phraseologies, as if the future of exploratory canons depended on him exclusively. That these gentlemen remorselessly broke their relationship at one point is a genuine shame, for the level of turmoil in the large part of these early conversations would still be enough to define new directions of free music nowadays.


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