Jeff Gburek, based in Poznan, Poland, would seem to seek a work that is greater than itself, that moves into itself outside itself, following and imposing a certain measure on myriad forms as they burst and spring forth outside all limit. The pieces are a diffuse, uncertain space fit for substitution, for the realization, dissolution and disappearance of various constructs.

Gburek uses signal processors, prepared guitar and field recordings to bring about these fluttering near-appearances. For the first piece, with its divergent series of events and unpredictable interruptions, its weakness, namely its inability to ever bring anything out fully, shows a certain strength, as Gburek turns it into a malleability on account of which nothing ever fully leaves either. There's just an incessant metamorphosis, a set of dissecting tabletop juxtapositions, gritty interjections and irregular volleys of field recordings. They make for volatile combinations, but its rolling flow comes with ease and both a sense of spontaneity and good judgment; it generally stays clear or intellectualized jump-cutting or mere plastic progress.

The rest of the work retains an underground pipework of field recordings and treated electronic sounds and makes for some beautiful relationships between reality and artifice. Notably, though, the events are less clearly individual: they grow calm and shift into and within a sinuous web, a single clamor. This is often pulled off with a kind of looseness, with a fundamentally extemporaneous manner. Yet, at the same time, the interactions of the static hum and blustery frequencies, through which flicker snatches of garbled voices and anonymous sounds, are charged with a common, unifying sense. These traces hint at a huge amount of discipline in the music, one that heightens rather than hinders a certain level of vibrancy. At the best of places the ensuing music becomes wistful, almost visionary; at worst it's simply jaunty.