I can't think of many recordings with a twin alto-sax front line, let alone a permanent band. But on the evidence of this warm-hearted mainstream set, jazz has missed a trick. Tony Kofi and Alan Barnes have enough common ground to deliver coherence and enough tonal variation to sustain interest. Kofi plays with a resonance and rasp that recalls Jackie McLean, while the equally assured Barnes plays with a cooler, more pointed tone that has slight traces of Art Pepper. When combined, the textural subtleties and contrasts add intrigue to an already supple set of originals. The album opens with the clarion-call of ‘Peverill Point’ and a brief bass feature. But it soon settles on the head-nodding loping swing that, expertly crafted by the rhythm team of bassist Adam King and Rod Youngs on drums, is its default position. The sweetly harmonised ‘Los Caracoles’ follows, alternating laid-back bossa with mid-tempo lope, and then the Kofi-penned boogaloo, ‘The Village Blues Walk’ shows that both saxophonists can preach the blues gospel. Kofi also wrote the only ballad, the wistful ‘Hoagy’, which highlights John Turville's thoughtful piano. Barnes’ brief sleeve note illustrates the dearth of twin alto-sax front lines by referencing Phil Woods and Gene Quill and delving into the obscure regions of the Blue Note back catalogue. And without imitating either, his latest project conjures the craftsmanship, commitment and energy of those times. He'll be taking this band on the road, but until then, this album acts as a neat taster.