We don't know why, but some albums persistently evade the reviewer's wish to assign them pertinent values to assist the reader who is unfamiliar with that music, even when they are heard in monastic silence and with the utmost focus. For starters, the reedist duet of Markus Eichenberger (clarinet) and Christoph Gallio (soprano and C-melody saxophones) does promise remarkable musical excellence from the outset. There aren't actually many philosophical suggestions as to the goal and probable interpretation of these gentlemen's aural contact if we ignore Art Lange's liners, admirably targeting the impossible in trying to explain the unexplainable through the dissemination of intellectual references.

Let's stick to the reasonable or the straightforward facts for the time being. It's not overwhelming to listen to a record with ten tracks spread throughout about forty minutes; that's a solid start. Despite the performers' relatively narrow range of color gradations, the tone palette comprises a number of constituents that the listener may find interesting in particular ways. Although the juxtapositions of held notes initially may recall microtonal experimentation already familiar to other artists working in the same field (see the recently reviewed The International Nothing), Eichenberger and Gallio make it clearly obvious right away that hypnotic minimalism is not their intention. By introducing oddly shaped contrapuntal fragments or, more simply, by "dirtying" the timbre with what the technical tools permit, they genuinely begin to break up stillness. By focusing on the "airy/wet" component over the substance of pitch — a quality only detectable via headphones or at a loud volume from the speakers — they drag us directly into the mechanics of muted improvisation for wind instruments. However, it's possible that a talkative, if never warmly sugar-coated environment would develop just a short while later. Occasionally, unplanned spurts of edgy nature emerge like mushrooms after rain. Then everything abruptly settles down to a barely stable quiet informed by a measure of somewhat cynical dissonance.

The term "unison polyphony" is not contradictory: equal notes can coexist simultaneously in a polyphonic composition, regardless of the instrument they are played on. Eichenberger and Gallio complement one another conceptually, with their actions showing differences in approach and, if you will, the intrinsic urge to keep the boundaries of their unique personalities well defined while still allowing for dialogue attempts. Persistent listening will undoubtedly lead to the audience being more conversant with the subject. Nevertheless, don't count on exclaiming "Aha! Now I get it!" at the end.