Meat Valley (Carne Vale)? Okay, why not? If you've been following the exploits of Michael Foster, you'll kind of know what to expect here, and that he's abetted here by the quick hands and ample wit of Ben Bennett added to my anticipation. To be sure, there's lots of the expected gurgle and pop along with an uncanny knack for setting opposing sounds against each other, as in the opener, with Wick's clear trumpet notes and Foster's wet tubeage.

Aggregates of sound announce and then recede, a roll-call of colors and nudge-and-wink comments. Bennett inserts sprightly knocks, thumps and pitch-bent rolls in the split seconds between horn phrasings. Lots of rubber twisting and car horn eruption. These pieces run the gamut of available (and invented!) techniques and approaches, and a few feature a sharp left turn somewhere during their run.

"How one should laugh, and how he should not" is an exception, a longish stretch of chordal hover, metallic in its sheen, collaged with slight percussive comments. At times the "straight" playing of one person or another is seen as a foil for the others to hang their bickering on, but there are lovely passages of melodic laughter and playful cajolery as well. They even out with a sly swinging invention that sounds like much more than a trio, as if they're playing and commenting on their playing at the same time; it's quite chucklesome.

At one point during "Nother To Drinke Nor To Speake Hauyng Thy Mouth Full" Wick plays a sing-songy little melody while Foster and Bennett throw up clouds of dirt and plastic left-overs to smashing effect. This well-disposed trio manages to invent a new twist of the fabric and include the barest hints of time-worn styles, all while smiling whole-heartedly. You will too.