“This music is a complete unedited sequence of improvisations, recorded on a bitterly cold day in Lancaster Baptist Church,” the blurb on the back cover tells us and, with individual track titles ranging from ‘Hard Frost’ to ‘Shiver’ and ‘Icicles’, there's no prospect of a thaw. If the combination of piano with vibraphone might have invoked John Lewis and Milt Jackson, this music instead feels allied more to various schools of modern composition: Boulez and Luc Ferrari, with occasional hints of the cerebral processes of early-period New York minimalism. Martin Pyne and Stephen Grew are certainly never short of ideas. Pyne laces his mallet lines with bowed crescendos and echoing tones and Grew revels in sustained continuums of tremolos and long, snaking lines. Over the 60 minutes, I'd have liked some variety of mood. Each piece tends towards extended paragraphs of busily interlaced counterpoint – exhilarating and hypnotising stuff for sure, but sometimes less can be more.