Born out of what the liner notes call an "impromptu" meeting at the Sonic Arts Research Center in Belfast, Ireland, Faint brings together three composer/improvisers who seek to find a chance commonality in their respective approaches. All three bring much to the table: Rebelo and Schroeder are the stauncher "academicians' in the group, both having studied, taught, and conducted much in the way of electroacoustic research at various international universities and symposiums; Davis, despite an educational background as sound as his colleagues, spent much time accruing street smarts touring with the European Jazz Orchestra, and playing with such luminaries as Joe Morris, Django Bates, Paul Dunmall, and Marc Ribot amongst others. On this two-disc outing, Rebelo is credited with piano and "instrumental parasites", while Schroeder plays sax and Davis sits behind the traps. Considering the trio's collective resum�s and reasonably traditional nature of their sonic palette, first glances might discern nothing terribly out of the ordinary, but decked out across two lengthy sides, it's clear that they have other things than hoary tradition on their minds.

Had they altered this project name by but one letter � nicking it Feint instead of Faint� � most ears would have pricked up and taken notice, as all three players seem to thrust and parry at will, ducking each other's punches, recalibrating their equilibrium on a dime. Nevertheless, their vain search for an electroacoustic sweet spot eludes them despite their best efforts. Track titles prove more evocative than the actual sounds and voices: "A Wall of Sound: Or At Least a Wall with Some Sonic Bricks In It" is perhaps too site-specific for its own good, Davis' skittery cymbal accents and drum-edge rolls inciting Rebelo's chaotic rivulets of piano to riot, Schroeder piping her way into the melee towards the piece's conclusion, and then only when necessary. A piece such as "Toward Less Probable States of Concentration" seems to exist in an electroacoustic vacuum, enjoying the great tracts of silence arising between Davis' flurry of activity, Rebelo peppering away at will, but there remains so little collective spark, let alone psychic simpatico, between the trio that the trebly sonic eruptions are barely set alight, brief flare-ups that just as quickly dissipate.

The second disc's reconstructivistics at least provide some artistic ballast to the project's modus operandi, displaying characterizations worthy of onkyo traditions as well as the micro-tonality exploits of progenitors such as AMM. "Summit of Agony" explores notational space thanks to Davis' ratcheting up the tension via his corralling of metals, underscoring the second disc's experimentalist ying to the first's more "traditionalist" jazzier yang, but the overabundance of R&D so enervates the trio's designs that whatever recombinant energy is left comes to a screeching halt. More textural gunplay and less lab time next time could well discourage both player and participant from Faint-ing away.