Improvising past their already raw solo paths, these two pieces move slowly through brief patterns that pulled out and opening up could provide the source of a lot more straightforward material. Instead this pair land in them with the attention span of buzzing flies, chewing on the short-lived music till they abscond leaving drugged tatters. These half-masticated drones, the windy sick sounds from Heath Moreland's boxes, and echoing percussion form a pool of spoiled noise, eviscerated into a loose gutter sound.
Despite a section of the metronomic reverbs, the whole thing is still an unwhittled and entertaining jumble of styles and instruments. Blasts of horn making this sometimes sound more like a snatch of a Graveyards session rather than a Moreland / Hall collaboration. Ending with the toll of a great sea bell, the ringing floating off into a rolling, sucking fog.
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