There was a time when you could pretty safely isolate Roscoe Mitchell's jazz recordings from his "classical" ones, but that seems to have gradually gone by the boards. This recording is a case in point.

Mitchell (soprano and bass saxophones, baroque flute, bass recorder, whistles, percussion) teams up with the always-fascinating James Fei (sopranino, alto and bass saxophones, bass and contrabass clarinets, analog electronics) and erstwhile West Coast percussive stalwart William Winant for a single, 55-minute work that, in Mitchell's "sound and space" conception, tends more toward the latter.

It opens with glittering shards from Winant, hazy electronics from Fei and sharp, piercing soprano work from Mitchell, very spacious, very alive and bristling. I have the sense that there are pre-designated way stations for the trio to reach but the pathways getting there are surely improvised. Many of Mitchell's musical preoccupations of the previous five decades make at least a cursory appearance, including a brief reference to march rhythms, flute and percussion sections, torrents of circular breathing, long, rough drone passages and, of course, hard-edged abstraction. His refreshingly sour tone plays well against Winant's sometimes too clean and precise percussion, Fei maintaining a middle ground of sorts. Despite the scene shifting quite often, Mitchell never lets matters become merely episodic or fragmented. Somehow, the piece reads as a consistent work, breathing on its own, gentle here, harsh there, always played with passion. Fei is especially impressive going toe-to-toe with Mitchell and not coming off the worse for it. The dirge-like section toward the end, both horn players wielding their low axes, is especially deep and wonderful--classic Mitchell.

An automatic purchase for any Mitchell fan and an advisory warning to those who might guess that he has little left in the tank: Not true.