Rise kicks off with typically free and impressionistic piano from Chris Abrahams which is quickly encircled by quite a dissonant backing of bass plucks and rattling percussion from Messrs Buck and Swanton. There's a mysterious slow mantra-like quality to the counterpoint between the players with each seemingly approaching the improvisation's unusual time signature from a different angle. There's scarcely a break in the incessant rhythm, and like all music from The Necks it evinces a trancelike quality which is carefully attenuated with more dissonant and unfamiliar timbres. Overhear has Abrahams switching from piano to organ which he uses to sprinkle bluesy rolls and occasional gospel tinged chords over another ragged and rangy combination of bass and percussion. Indeed the latter is some of the most unconventional heard from the group in some time with Buck mostly ignoring his drums in favour of rattles, shakers, and a range of bell or cymbal-like instruments around which Swanton's bass ebbs and throbs. It's a pleasant enough exploration of an odd combination of timbres but like the first piece is perhaps in want of a little development.

Blue Mountain is the album's stand out offering for me. Martial drum rolls, organ drone and to this ear some lightly Klezmer influenced piano kick us off before being joined by Swanton adding some frantic bowing of his bass. Unlike the first two pieces there's a greater degree of variation in the tone and overall feel here, especially in the percussion which switches from long dramatic cymbal rolls to driving toms and skittering hats. Over nearly 21 minutes the tension and drama of the piece builds to a brilliant crescendo of cascading minor chords and thunderous bass and drums until just when it seems the whole thing might fly apart at the seams the chords drift off, the organ drifts in and the rhythm section cools to a standstill; a brilliantly concise showcase of this band's powers. After that show of force the final offering Timepiece greets the listener as something of a shock. Like the first half of the record it runs along another odd time signature and pushes the less familiar components of Buck's percussive arsenal to the fore. There's even what sounds like an alarm clock that goes off periodically, which in concert with the shakers and hats playing a vaguely swing rhythm and Abrahams delicate keys gives the whole thing an uncanny, almost eerie atmosphere. The band are satisfied here to ramp up the density of their sounds without really changing their direction; a little more shaker there, more upfront drum rolls or discordant bass rhythm here. Like most of the material on Unfold it's principally textural in execution, the result being that fans of the band's previous two records which showcased a far greater degree of compositional variation and mood might feel a little starved. Nevertheless each of the four improvisations presented here have something distinct and distinctly Necks about them. No-one else is producing music quite like this and even when they might appear to be going through the motions, their motions are more interesting than practically anyone else's. After the superlative heights of Open from 2013 and Vertigo two years later it was perhaps asking a lot for the band to again distil something magical from their genius. That being said Unfold still contains many highlights, Blue Mountain chiefly among them and although there is little that's not been heard before in their oeuvre the band's ability to combine and recombine their unique take on piano, bass and drums will always make their records essential.