A duet for two saxophones; Hans Koch in the right channel on soprano and Christine Abdelnour on alto in the left. Having known each other for some time, and occasionally played together these two probably know each other's ways and means pretty well, and it shows. Much use of extended technique is on evidence, odd textures rubbing against each other like large sheets of paper, sand excluded.

At about the 6 minute mark it starts sounding like two simultaneous science experiments, or the purring motor of a well-tuned internal combustion engine alongside a super amplified frog pond. You'll be forgiven if you forget that you're hearing two metal tubes excited by breath. You might think giant cats, or slowed-down throat singing newly exposed. Or microphone feedback along with someone using the biggest eraser available. There are many stop-start bits and clever interleaving, as well as space left open for close examination of one astonishing sonic or other. It sounds like these two are listening hard and trying to work together to create a sonorous continuum.

The most astonishing thing then is that they weren't even in the same room with each other when the recordings were made. Their parts were recorded separately, he in Switzerland, she in France. On the same day, but miles apart. This knowledge then adds a whole new dimension to the resulting mass, allowing for a certain amount of amazement for the listener. It sounds very often as though these two are breathing together, almost anticipating each other's next sound. They often change together, stop at the same time, begin again in similar mode. This approach isn't new at all, but the results here are often uncannily beautiful.