True to form, Perelman's latest work materialises in a batch of albums, rather than a single recording. The other continuity here is the deployment of members of his ‘family circle’ of collaborators, in configurations that allow him to build on established vocabulary. For sonic surprise, the pick of the bunch is arguably the duo with Mat Maneri, which picks up nicely from where their previous release A Violent Dose Of Anything left off. The tenor-viola combination is absolutely bracing for the way that the roles are subverted, with the smaller instrument achieving enormous heft, especially when Maneri bows hard in a kind of psycho country fiddler fashion. The blend of intimacy and extraversion achieved by strings and reed is notable. In terms of brilliant collective improvisation, it is the quartet session The Other Edge that is unrivalled. The strength of each individual player has been well documented over time but as a unit they sound positively imperious here, sidestepping the well-trodden paths of ‘free’ standardisations. The control exerted on the high energy numbers, where the overtones and open notes are well directed, is excellent, as is the delicacy shown on whimsical, stop-start balladry. But it is on the mid-tempo piece ‘Panem Et Circenses Part 1’ that the ensemble really comes into its own, working out a sinister samba in which the bass plays a bucking pandeiro role and the piano is cast as the kind of eerie rhythmic accordion that might crop up in the music of Hermeto Pascoal. It is a dance that is as deliciously disquieting as it is uplifting. As for the trio album Book Of Sound, it is a bridge between the two other sets in many ways, shifting skillfully between the bulk of the quartet and the ether of the duet. Perelman fans will feel satisfied by his maintenance of high standards, while new listeners may feel inspired to visit his back catalogue. If so, they have options.