From the opening shrieks you know seatbelts should remain firmly fastened—a marathon ride through crushing funk and dark textures.
By 2001, Peter Brötzmann had spent decades as one of free jazz's most uncompromising voices, and this live recording at Casa del Popolo captures him at full intensity alongside William Parker and Hamid Drake—a trio that had been working together long enough to move as one organism. The two discs document what The Wire's critics identified as the year's best jazz recording, and you can hear why within the first minutes: Brötzmann's tarogato screams cut through Parker's walking bass and Drake's propulsive drums without any sense of compromise or arrangement. This isn't a refinement of his earlier work; it's an extension of it, but one where all three players have developed the language so far that the music sounds both anarchic and completely deliberate.
What makes these sets remarkable is range. The trio cycles through crushing funk grooves, rolling free expressionism, muscular swing, and occasional dark textural moods—not as novelty but as genuine explorations of what happens when three masters decide to play together without a script. Jason Bivins, writing for Dusted Magazine, called it "filled with the nice, harsh lyricism that distinguishes this band." That's exactly right: there's a lyricism here, even in the most abrasive passages, because each player knows how to listen.
This isn't a turning point or a statement of new directions. It's a document of mastery in real time, recorded live and released two years later on Eremite Records. The album is dedicated to Peter Kowald, the bassist who had worked with many of these figures. For listeners already deep in Brötzmann's catalog, this is essential. For newcomers, it's intense and unfiltered—not the place to start, but proof of what sustained commitment to free playing can sound like when the musicians are this good.