It's hard to describe just how music so simple can be so effective, so moving, and so soulful. Miles takes all the vibrato out of his horn, blows at times so gently it's a wonder he summons such beauty from such an unforgiving instrument. Yet he can also play with a marching band precision, or in the turn of a bar, heat a blue note that makes your hair stand on end. It helps of course that he's played with Frisell for decades and the pair weave and dance together, sometimes in unison, sometimes in counterpoint. It also helps that they’re recorded in the intimacy of a tiny club: this is music not just for the band but also for an audience, that you can hear holding its breath. But the thread that holds it together is Blade, all shimmering cymbals and brushes on the airy gentleness of ‘Queen B’ or laying down an intro of rolling toms to the stand out ‘There Ain't No Sweet Man That's Worth The Salt of My Tears’. Sit back, enjoy, Quiver will make you do just that.