Across three unhurried and slowly evolving soundscapes, Butcher and Davies luxuriate in the opportunity to explore extended techniques that seem intent on obliterating any trace of their instruments’ natural sounds. Davies is at something of an advantage in that respect, using an electrified harp to generate pristine drones and low rumble and hum, but Butcher wastes no time in rolling out his formidable, if somewhat familiar, repertoire of tricks – from bird whistle trill and watery burble to multi-phonic split rasps and wet slurps ’n’ snickers. Butcher, as we know, used to be a physicist and, much as we’d like to avoid making the somewhat hackneyed comment about the scientific precision he applies to his playing, there’s no denying that his patient and methodical explorations require almost superhuman levels of control. The session really comes alive when the duo’s activities meld convincingly: the harp’s muted gamelan coaxing an elongated purr from the sax, or a thick cloud of sound seeded with rainforest hoots. They’re sounds to get lost in.