If you're lucky enough to own an original vinyl copy of The Psyche, released in 1975, the one and only outing on the Revolutionary Ensemble's own RE label, you'd be well advised to hang on to it. But before you wear it out altogether, buy a copy of this cd reissue. That applies to anybody in fact, as The Psyche reveals the trio � violinist/violist Leroy Jenkins, bassist Sirone and drummer/pianist Jerome Cooper � at the absolute height of their powers. Despite the images of guerrilla warfare one associates with the epithet, the music these three men made during their seven years together was often lyrical, even sensual, at times even coolly abstract, and always impeccably structured. Check out how Jenkins' delicate viola solo segues into a sensational bass/piano duet midway through "Invasion." Cooper's piano work here is magnificent, Sirone's mighty pizzicatos easily rival the power of early Henry Grimes, and as Cooper returns to his kit, Jenkins' supremely melodic lines soar above.

A violin/bass/drum trio is a fascinating combination; unlike a sax/bass/drum line-up, in which the horn naturally dominates (whether it wants to or not), relegating the other two instruments to the role of mere rhythm section, a violin opens up the group acoustics, allowing the bass to come through more clearly. Which doesn�t mean that the drummer has to hold back: Cooper really lets fly. "Hu-man" clearly follows on from "Invasion" without a break, with Cooper's solo forming the transition, and Paul Zinman's digital mastering could perhaps have made this clear by mixing the two tracks together instead of retaining the break � presumably a throwback to the original LP side change. Ultimately it's of little consequence though: as the arching pentatonic melody comes roaring in we're off into new territory. As the piece progresses, the musicians move progressively not so much out as up � rhythm and harmony loosen (though Jenkins clings obstinately to the composition's modal foundations) and one has the distinct impression the whole band is lifting off. Neither Cooper's drum solo nor the rather peremptory restatement of the theme manages to bring it down.

"Col Legno" means "with the wood," and refers to a technique of playing stringed instruments with the back of the bow (its first and perhaps most celebrated appearance was in Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique). On Sirone's close-miked bass, this allows an upper line of harmonics to manifest itself, making what on paper would appear to be a somewhat simple line sound remarkably full. Above the bass, Jenkins and Cooper � back on the piano � swap intricate geometrical plans, until Cooper's f(e)isty clusters push Jenkins further out. Sirone takes up the bow for his solo, which he starts by laying down the kind of drone Phill Niblock would be proud of, and Cooper returns to his kit to insert several judiciously placed punctuation marks. In point of fact it's less of a bass solo than a gradual transition back into the opening riff, bowed this time. Jenkins remains aloft, and Cooper's drum rolls maintain the tension until the final seconds, culminating in a tremolo explosion. Forget the rather drab sound quality and listen to the music: it doesn't come much better than this.