The debut from this trio is framed by Hnatek's quiet attention to the elements of his drum kit with the mindset of an electronic programmer. Clean lines of rhythmic repetition are unapologetic, yet delicate, and with the honey-warm tones of Francesco Geminiani's tenor sax (who improvises as if turning over major philosophical questions), the effect is profound. ‘Nine B' has Geminiani riffing with Hnatek and as the interplay fires up in tempo and thrust, it lifts into a jiggling dance before the brass breaks off into circular loops of rippling sounds. This dissolving echo shifts the ambience and the track drifts into a reverie. The melodic mourning of the Squarepusher-composed ‘MIDI Sans Frontières’ also has a change of heart, almost at the end of the track, when it drops into Hnatek's dry beats.

There's a rejection of sound ‘litter’. Drum crashing and reverberations are out and if a cymbal is knocked, it is then held. Hnatek's beats are so bare they often sound like two bones hitting together and bassist Iannone plays as if an intuitive shadow, able to elaborate on musical ideas while hardly being there. This minimal approach keeps the album fresh but not without feeling. The title track, is withheld in the first few minutes as Hnatek softly establishes a heartbeat before adding tiny taps and an eerie cymbal. It sways between the hypnotic and creepy but again Geminiani's saxophone is reflective and he alludes to melancholy with simple quivers between notes.

Hnatek and Geminiani have both spent time playing in New York (the drummer part of Tigran Hamasyan's power trio) and with Iannone, they've carefully set about mapping a fresh route out of jazz. Hnatek's simulation of tight digital rhythms could be overthought but his grace and refinement only serve to amplify the meaning of human touch. It's a timely reflection on reduction and humility with a mindfulness that is on point right now.