As the great drummer Prévost says in his liner notes, “the ‘trick (the aesthetic impetus) must surely be to create a freshness of approach while working within settings increasingly familiar.” He is true to his word on this challenging and engaging session that features two excellent younger players who were still learning to crawl when Prévost was somersaulting through musical rings of fire with AMM. The reed-bass-drums triangle is a well-patented model but the newness that this ensemble manages to derive from it comes from both an astute referencing and patchworking of historical sources and their own strength of character. If there is an implication of a virtual encounter of Steve Lacy, Johnny Dyani and Max Roach, then it does not become derivative. All throughout the performance the blurring of the line between soloist and accompanist effectively means that what is on the ‘top’ and ‘bottom’ of the sound is deliciously ambiguous. Yarde's shuttling between long, telescopic lines and pithy, condensed phrases that make us hear his soprano and alto figures as high basslines is just one of many features that give the music a kaleidoscopic, if not panoramic feel. Using what sounds like a small kit with maybe one rather than two toms at his disposal, Prévost is particularly impressive for his near endless variety of supple patterns that range from quicksilver and elaborate to sparse and spacious, and his work with brushes reinforces Yarde's vocalisations by way of a skilful hiss-n-hum quality. For all the explosiveness of the session, much of the magic comes by way of the wry hush of the soprano cushioned by a slur of cymbal and a chromatic curl of the bass, which is all bluesy without necessarily being blues, and a touch ‘India’ without necessarily being Trane. As a wise man once said, such is the alliance of ‘freshness and the familiar’.