Also in Alex Neilson's interview, he expressed his disenchantment after several years on the Leeds improv scene: "a musical approach that has so much misplaced emphasis on 'the new' but feels as generic as anything else."
The three collborators on this LP might reasonably laid claim to having played a big part in creating the genre, and maybe this album was one of the early templates, Still, I can't help agree with Neilson that it's become a genre like any other. Parts of the album do sound almost literally like a fire in a pet shop. The saxes of Parker and Braxton scurry and dart around like demented gerbils. Bailey, in the middle, scratches and scrapes at the floor of his cage. Lord knows what animal he is — probably one of those imaginary mongrel ones from a children's fairy story.
Such blasphemy would, of course, be treated as apostasy by the kind of people whose recommendations first led me to buy this from Rare & Racy in the eighties, around the same time as I got Parker and Bailey's Compatibles.
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