Lacy and Potts circle each other like dancers who know exactly where the other will step.
This is a meeting of two soprano saxophonists who approach the instrument from almost opposite angles. Steve Lacy spent decades working through the avant-garde tradition, favoring angular phrases and sparse textures. Steve Potts, meanwhile, developed his sound in the European free jazz scene, bringing a rounder, more vocal quality to the horn. When they recorded together in 1991, neither player compromised — instead, they found spaces where their voices could complement rather than compete.
What makes Flim-Flam distinctive is how little happens. There are no drums, no bass, no piano filling gaps. Just two saxophones and air between them. Lacy's tone can turn brittle and accusatory; Potts' stays warm even when he's playing something dissonant. On longer tracks, you hear them negotiate in real time — one player will state something stark, the other will answer with a phrase that softens or reframes it. Sometimes they move in parallel, sometimes they clash deliberately. The session has the feel of a private conversation that happens to have been recorded, not a performance designed for an audience.
This sits apart from Lacy's more composed, architecturally precise work, and it's too restrained and abstract to serve as an entry point to either musician. But for listeners already drawn to free improvisation and genuinely curious about how two strong personalities can share space without erasing each other, Flim-Flam rewards close attention.