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So... Here we have one of the grizzled heroes of 70s underground avant-prog-rock, Fred Frith, of Henry Cow un-fame, teaming up with a great youngish trumpeter who can't quite decide between his Marsalis chops and his Bill Dixon aural yearnings, Darren Johnston. Frith's distorted guitar noodlings are, mysteriously, instantly recognizable, and Johnston is a worthy foil. The Bay Area is lucky to have adopted them both.