With the trio an increasingly desirable, and financially viable, option for many musicians, the constraints of a duo can pose even greater creative questions of the musicians. Yet, necessity can also be the mother of invention and it's that characteristic that loosely defines this utterly beautiful collaboration between these two genre-fluid maestros. Guitar guru Monder's profile-raising contribution to David Bowie's epochal final album, Blackstar, highlighted his versatility, but it's his shapeshifting evolution from cult shredder into ambient soundscaper extraordinaire that continues here with spellbinding authority. It's also the finelyweighted gravitas of Shragge's playing that gives this pair such tonal poise. The latter's long, deep-breathing notes hang and power, thanks to his innovatively designed, huge sounding, dragon mouth trumpet and ensnaring shakuhachi flute flurries. He can rip it up, too, as on the title-track's molten lines that tear and tumble. But this is very much an immersive duo conversation – that can easily switch roles – Monder's shimmering chordal ripples mirroring Shragge's flute, or the latter setting up a circular-breathing pulse while the guitar chimes on top, as on ‘There Is Always One You Follow’. Yet, while their beauteous timbres are to the fore, dark undercurrents lurk beneath, thanks in part to the pungent prose of Charles Bukowski inspiring much of the music here. Contrasting and compelling, A World Of Dew creates a soundworld that's meditative, menacing and mesmerising.