Sharp's Carbon remains among his more challenging line-ups, principally through the presence of Parkins. Draped in pedals and effects, her harp can do anything and more a guitar aspires to, yet somehow she whips this bucking and yawing monster of an instrument into shape. What's more she underwrites her soundscapes with a classical technique that counterpoints Sharp's anarchic blues noise. The five cuts here, remixed from a now ancient gig in Saalfeden, a postcard pretty Austrian village, are redolent with violence yet are strangely cathartic, gouting with screams that, should you wish to annoy your neighbours of a Sunday, make for splendid alarm calls. ‘Analemma’ notably evokes Hendrix's ‘Star Spangled Banner’, while ‘Perihelion’ epically launches, fanfare style, like an electrified Copland on a drug yet to be synthesised, but I want some when they succeed. The ever-free Previte is, of course, totally at home here (like you can be at home in such a vortex of hurricane energies), and by the time it all climaxes in the mega-drone noise wall of ‘Anthelion’ who cares if you missed the last bus home at the concert's end.