Guitarist Ambarchi's been all over the proverbial map these past few years. Equally at home plumbing the depths of subterranean noise and textured drone as he is in his metal fatigues getting his inner kerrang out, Ambarchi's become something of the "ambassador" for the experimental-guitar nation. Octopussian percussionist Z'ev, though not as prolific, has been a powerful presence on the world's avant stage, nursing a career that reaches back into the Throbbing Gristle area of industrialism, Mute Records' affiliated beginnings, and the 80s underground cassette mythos. Live, Z'ev's been a merciless gong-banger, embodying a rich tradition of live avant-ism that encompasses the Fluxus-methodologies of similar sound-art exploitatives such as Survival Research Laboratories and Test Department.

It's not surprising (and probably just a matter of time) that this dynamic duo found their way onto John Zorn's Tzadik label. Released as part of the Radical Jewish Culture series, Spirit Transform Me plays like the audio equivalent of the film Altered States, the pair ripping apart the space-time continuum in an eons-long grasp for bigger bangs. Exploring the inner meanings of the Hebrew Alef-bet, Spirit Transform Me catapults your mental faculties into a densely woven maelstrom of prescient tribalism buttressed with ceremonial élan. In presenting this elemental tour de force, Ambarchi provided the necessary sample/sonic food for Z'ev to gnaw on and eventually whip into the shape (thanks to the wonders of technological file sharing), yet however ultimately "edited", the three pieces exhibit a remarkably tensile quality, as if recorded literally on the spot.

Both artists are nothing if not versatile. On the opening "Alef," Ambarchi wields his trusty axe (although the resulting processed amp thrush hardly recalls string-driven things), augmented by vibraphone; Z'ev then proceeds to envelope the hypnotic atmospheres within his own cocoon of mysterious metallic noisemakers until you're sucked into the same dream zones that engulfed shaman present during the First Thought. "Bet" accompanies the trance-dance afterward, an assaultive cacophonic barely kept under textural restraint, Z'ev smoothly sandblasting the sound into bent metal sidewalks. The ritual concluded, "Gimel" turns pummelation into contemplation, a near 10-minute atmospheric puncture of distant, backlit percussive outbursts and grumbling guitar undercurrent. Spirit Transform Me isn't so much about fighting the power as wholecloth submission to it, voluntarily.