Torrential three way free jazz/rock pile-up that tracks all the way back to Thurston’s epochal Barefoot In The Head date with Sauter and Dietrich while instant-visioning the future via minimal, psychedelic interventions, classic Sonic Youth-sounding guitar clank and explosive sax/string bulldozing. Some of the playing here is straight-up gorgeous, with the way the group build luminous form from a bed of hovering guitars and Flaherty’s bold tenor sax form sounding like a classic late-Coltrane take on devotional hymn forms. Bill Nace (Vampire Belt/Northampton Wools et al) and Thurston’s guitars are often indistinguishable, with Nace’s up-close modified guitar style pulling Thurston into gravities of microtonal detail and subtle textural invention while Flaherty takes the lead and just bleeds all over the goddamn room. A fantastic set, way more than a mere jam, and one that feels sourced from deep inside the classic free jazz tradition. Recommended.

Edition of only 200 copies hand-numbered LP, the vinyl debut for Bill Nace’s (Northampton Wools/Blood Stereo/Vampire Belt et al) extended solo guitar experiments. Nace uses various preparations and plays the guitar on his lap, building from clanging blues-infected single-string squeal through sanctified feedback and hovering tones before sounding doomy percussive bells and taking off into all-out guitar splurge. Aspects of Too Dead For Dreaming seem too reflect on some of Heather Leigh’s earlier pedal string work, an area ripe for further exploration.

Edition of 150 hand-numbered copies LP that documents a furious duo exchange between US power saxophonist Steve Baczkowski (best loved for his work with Flaherty/Corsano and his duo with Ravi Padmanabha) and Northeast guitar mangler Bill Nace (Northampton Wools, Vampire Belt, Blood Stereo et al). Recorded live in Buffalo this is a wild side, with more in common with the sense-destroying attack of Borbetomagus circa Zurich than anything coming out of the post-Ayler tradition. Baczkowski balances huge sheet metal waves on the tip of his tongue while Nace takes  a grinder to the table-top guitar ala Donald Miller. There are some eerie passages of high-tension silence populated by non-specific electronics, slithering drones, vocals and high lonesome feedback but they don’t last long and it’s the molten peaks that keep you coming back again and again. Industrial strength free jazz from a duo who know. Paste-on sleeves.