A single live recording sliced into six tracks, stillefelt appears to gut itself of rules, such as structure, so as to fixate on mood, and thoughts. Led by Chris Mapp on electric bass, this Birmingham trio make music as adventurous ambience: improvisation is cleverly anchored by composition and interplay. Each instrument looks inward in mini-monologues, often crossing the path of another, such as in the track ‘Quiet Field’ (which is also the translation of the Norwegian word ‘stillefelt’). Here they quietly act out their own neuroses: Percy Pursglove's trumpet utters high, desperate pips whilst Mapp's low-end bass circles in on itself, and Ford's guitar wanders dreamily. The effect is softly hallucinogenic, and works because they are tuned in to one another.

Pursglove's trumpet is extraordinary at times, he can squeal like a siren, or emit a trill so dry it's as if the instrument is made of cardboard. In ‘A Kind of a Day’ his romantic melody momentarily hints at sadness; stories continuously flow forth, while Mapp's bass shows careful courage in his version of events. He lets repeated loops of notes hang in space, alone and unashamed while it's Ford's guitar that often lifts the music back into daylight.

Electronics, as in the central track, ‘Towards a Rusty Future’, are minimal; mere suggestions of fuzzed interference. This is a debut album and could go further in its honesty, or get closer to the edge, but the sound of Mapp's bass with trumpet and guitar here signals at enticing music to come.