Not that we need reminding, but this collection shows again what a versatile musician Frith remains. Here he is in dialogue mode, shaping sinuously with artists who may be long-time collaborators or others he's met only in the moment. He may be the privileged old white bloke here, the album, after all, is in his name, yet he's rarely the one to speak first, loudest or longest. Instead he is the common denominator in this throng of musicians making music of surprise. We may stumble upon moments of eastern-infused vox soothing out of a soundscape of industrial scrapes and a chorus of snoring bears, as on the appropriately titled ‘A Complicated Path’. The titles themselves, headlines from the New York Times at the time of recording, also show Friths wit and awareness. Frith has made a point of programming this album so it itself is a composition. So songs don't follow chronologically, but grow from or in contrast to each other – ‘Strife and Soil’ evolves gently from the dispersing ends of ‘A Complicated Path’, which is itself more electronics driven than its predecessor and humanised by Wooley's squallish horn. A perfect fit with the cut it follows in the album running order, but actually recorded earlier in earth time with different personnel. So, as the title suggests, All Is Always Now is at once composed yet random, a reflection of past moments that can't be repeated. Well, unless you hit the repeat button…