by Eugene ChadbourneThis collection of 19 shortish piano and drum duets has caused the same reaction in several different fans of Paul Bley, so probably shouldn't be dismissed as quickly as the performers seemed to each track go by. Initial listings inspire indifference, in some case sneers, as it seems the two veteran players and longtime musical parners are improvising as if facing a row of judges who have given them time limits. This image addresses the brevity of the tracks, but not the lack of any palpable urgency, a quality that it is assumed would be rampant in anyone addressing such a court.Superficially, the set of musical miniatures brings to mind a classic Erroll Garner side, in which each in a series of two, three and four minute tracks opens up an entire musical cosmos as well as inviting in the apparition of romance and the smell of perfume. None of that happens at all here, the tracks basically having the flatness and relative lack of detail of the album's cover illustration. These performances have a lingering quality, however, certain moments eventually acquirng magic like illuminations, even though it is all mere residue under the fingers of players who seemingly can create beauty in their sleep. "West 107th Street" is music for an imaginary movie, "Love Hurts" almost manages to deny feeling, and "Batterie" in its millionth recording still puts new thoughts in the pianist's mind.