At once an oddball item and a true classic. This welcome reissue fills a gap in Steve Lacy's recorded career from the days when he was exploring free music. These tracks, from two live dates in 1973 and 1974, capture Lacy's music at an arch, shambolic, querulous, clangourous point from which he slowly, steadily retreated. Nevertheless, what this disc lacks in gloss and precision it more than makes up for in candour and authenticity. No Lacy fan will want to miss it.
Staples especially is full of circus whistles and other froufrou.
But the real action is between the saxophonists, who despite a general lack of rehearsal are able to tackle Lacy's material with spiritedness and vigour. The voices aren't really hard to separate, since each is so distinctive by this time in their careers. This is an important historical document and is, although uneven, full of musical rewards. This period of Lacy's music found the saxophonist in pursuit of fresh sources to augment what was fast becoming an intensely personal compositional approach. Carter and Stevens' work together is a loquacious blend of chatter and palpitation, while Bailey turns in some of his most wonderfully deranged sound sculptures, as clanging and resonating notes push through the wash of tones.