In a span of six short years the Canadian label Spool Records has built a fledgling catalogue of about 25 titles. While most releases have been issued under their line series (devoted to free improvised musics), there are others as well, one showcasing composers (point), another delving into electro-acoustic projects (field) and a more recent one called arc. Of its five new items released late in the summer, four are of the acoustic improv variety, which is the case with the present item. Recorded in Amsterdam a week before the 9-11 tragedy, this collaborative effort unites tenorman Tobias Delius and his compatriate bassist Wilbert de Joode with the ubiquitous Vancouver drummer Dylan van der Schyff. For followers of that tiny European country’s bountiful creative music scene, the reedman, for one, has been rubbing elbows with of the best of his fellow improvisers for over a decade and a half. Most of his regular associates are integral parts of Misha Mengelberg’s ICP Orchestra, and he joined the group on their last North American tour. The bassist, on the other hand, is simply one of the busiest in that scene, working in the trios of reedist Ab Baars and keyboardists Cor Fuhler and Michiel Braam, not to mention a host of other projects, both ad hoc and sporadic. As for the drummer, his South-African ancestry creates a kind of link with Holland, but the more obvious tie is through his real affinity with his partners, matching their quick wits at every turn.

The all-improv affair opens with "A Good Idea," starting so abruptly that it seems we’re catching the band in mid-piece (and the fact that it only lasts four minutes, when the remaining four tracks run between 9 and 15, further arouses such suspicions). Right off the bat, Delius sprinkles and splashes on clarinet before switching over to his main axe. The drummer hits a kind a churning groove that could easily mislead people into believing that Master Han (Bennink, of course) is actually behind the traps. Jazzy and earthy it is as well: one can’t help but hear echoes of vintage-Impulse Shepp in the reedman’s gruff tone. Moreover, De Joode's use of gut strings gives him a fat, rubbery sound strikingly reminisecent of Mingus. Apart from the closing cut, "Zaal 100," where the band hits quite a swinging groove when the bassist locks into the drummer’s brush strokes, the trio eschews fixed tempos for the most part. But that doesn’t prevent them from being discursive. Forget harmonic structures or catchy melodic turns of phrases, but expect plenty of jagged phrases thrown about with reckless abandon. This is more jazz in spirit than by the letter. It breathes with the gusto of past times without any of the stylistic conventions that would eventually straightjacket it into what is now known, for better or worse, as the Mainstream.