Taylor and Bailey circle each other warily, never quite finding common ground or sustained momentum.
By 1988, Cecil Taylor had spent decades pushing the piano into territories most players wouldn't follow. Derek Bailey had done similar work on guitar, both men uncompromising and restless. This Berlin session pairs them for what should have been a natural meeting of extremes. Instead, it misfires.
Taylor's approach had always thrived on density and forward motion — ideas piling up, textures thickening, his hands racing across the keys in dense clusters. Bailey plays half the set on acoustic guitar, half on electric, which creates surface variety but doesn't solve the deeper problem: the two musicians simply don't lock. There's no heat here, no sense of mutual discovery or even productive friction. The music meanders without building anything, ideas arriving and dissolving without connecting to each other or to any larger arc.
Thom Jurek's AllMusic review nailed it — this is a disappointment, a meeting between two formidable players that never coheres into anything worth the pairing. The Penguin Guide to Jazz awarded it four stars, but Jurek's reservation is the more honest response. Late-career Taylor recordings are hit-or-miss; this one misses. Skip it unless you're committed to hearing everything either artist touched.