The solo saxophone improvisations on Etwa sounded more like a duet between a man and the French chapels that these pieces were recorded in. The most finite details of the saxophone were fully exposed as though microphones had been placed inside the horn, yet Gauguet’s tone was saturated in reverb, as though we were listening from the back of the chapel. Subtleties like the simple sound of wind blowing through a pipe didn’t sound like a lack of decision, but more like room breathing and a style of playing that reflected the speed of reality rather than music tailored for a recording. Gauguet was also capable of making some of the most uniquely violent sounds of any sax player I’ve ever heard. Through an endless display of non-traditional techniques, Gauguet’s playing usually sounded more like guitar feedback and industrial machinery than a saxophone. Whatever he was doing, it was unrecognizable as a saxophone and he philosophically treated sound as vibrations that dissipate into the atmosphere. Okay, so that’s literally the definition of sound, and it makes for a truly unforgettable listen (whether you like it or not) that’s both primal and glorious. >> Seth Kasselman