Jeph Jerman's output is rather enormous and sonically varied, although it's possible to perhaps categorize his music into one of two areas: process-oriented or purely improvisational. The former might include work like that for vibrating tables covered with stones where one (very complex) thing occurs for the duration. His collaborative efforts tend to fall into the latter category and this one, with guitarist/electronicist Doug Theriault, fits that bill.

The dynamics are at a generally low level, although the activity is consistent, with a kind of scurrying quality. Jerman scrapes, rattles and rustles his objects (many of them presumably of the twig, rock, paper, metal variety) while Theriault picks tentatively at his guitar in a manner which one can't help but hear the influence of post-2000 Keith Rowe. It's a session where one can easily imagine a close up, almost microscopic picture of some natural scene, deep down into the soil, where there's a huge amount of tiny hustle and bustle � never any real silence, always some movement, some growth or decay. When hums occur, they're quiet, forming a substrate but not intrusively so. The three tracks scan similar territory, but only in the sense that this patch of ground is similar to that one � it really isn't if you pay close enough attention. Jerman and Theriault keep their ears open and discern the differences, for which this listener is grateful. A strong record and an excellent example of this intense, granular approach.