In recent years. London based baritone saxophonist and composer Cath Roberts has forged strong links with the incredibly fertile Manchester out-jazz scene, culminating in this debut from her quintet, Sloth Racket, featuring a bunch of lads either currently or lately working there. From the crash of the opening bone-crunching riff, it feels like a lot more than five musicians at work. Roberts’ baritone and Sam Andreae's tenor set up a wall-of-Jericho energy, while bassist Seth Bennett throbs and bubbles, drummer Johnny Hunter thrashes wildly, and older brother Anton Hunter adds snarling electric guitar. There's a ferocity to it all perhaps only matched by The Thing's no-holds-barred garage-skronk. But that's only half the story. Across all three of the long pieces here, there's a studious attempt to explore extremes of intensity, with fat dollops of riffage and seething free-jazz acting as corridors to near-silent interludes of close listening and miniature gestures. It's the sense of coherent intent that holds it all together, with even the most diaphanous moments of drift feeling as if all five players are working towards a defining collective statement. Consider this an important contribution to the ongoing debate about spontaneity versus form.