I know two members of Bolide – one a skronk scribe, the other a cartoonist and psychotronic film aficionado – so was lucky enough to catch a couple of fairly early gigs in Brighton. If free jazz is about learning the rules before breaking them, Bolide (then Bolide Awkwardstra) were definitely in the improv tradition – thoroughly punk in spirit, and steeped in noise, psychedelia and a range of world musics as much as Peter Brötzmann. The gigs were unpredictable: they might last only 10 minutes or so; the drummer would not necessarily still be behind the kit by the end of the show. Senses, meanwhile, seemed so deranged that some in the audience assumed that the name was spelled ‘bowl-eyed’. That, however, was close to their formation in 2007. Since then, as the press release puts it, they have ‘failed to disband’ – and this limited edition album reveals a far more mature band, still chaotic at times but able to demonstrate a coherent and nuanced group dynamic. In place of virtuosity, they offer great taste and total commitment – and burn, as a result, like the meteoric fireball from which they take their name.