Leave the conceptual calculus of the album title behind, the triple-brace format doesn’t amount to much beyond the imaginative bustle pouring out. All the beauty’s in the algebra of asymmetrical rhythms, punchy horns and cartwheeling, caterwauling guitar figures. Along the way the sextet shows its aptitude for joining the dots between some seemingly incongruous coordinates, from busy city wormholes to crater-caked moon canyons, through a sequence of developing hive-mind micro-connections. Insect-membrane manifestos give way to full-blown jagged dread, while the inclusion of recordings made of a 10-year-old Fujiwara receiving guidance from revered drum-doyen Alan Dawson is a deft personal touch. That youngster sounded pretty reticent back then, but he was clearly taking it all on board. With Triple Double, the apprentice has done his master proud. This is the work of a decidedly ambitious and highly adroit compositional brain.