This isn’t your grandfather’s free jazz. Hell, it probably isn’t free jazz at all, but you have to call it something. “Katyusha” is ballistic fire music that starts where the most berserk, intense free music begins and then sustains that, then pushes it further. Blood vessel bursting intensity, stamina, speed, and momentum is here in blinding quantities, all the while retaining lightning fast interaction. No dull roar, the densities and dynamics do vary, but there is never a dull moment or coasting. No melodies, no beats, no ballads, no mid tempos, no diffuse gestures, this release by an international crew of warlocks pushes instrumental technique to new extremes. Saxophonist Martín Escalante is a singular stylist, wrenching scathing fusillades of sound from his instrument in a one-man orchestra of multiphonics, altissimo shrieks, subtones, and screaming. His tone here is unamplified and unfiltered – he conjures these hellish sounds acoustically through sheer force and determination. Bassist Teté Leguía wantonly deconstructs bass playing in a low-tech manner utilizing feedback, magnetic field disruption, found objects, and distortion. He lays down a thick excoriating, wooly canvas for the other two to puncture and rend, goading them to higher peaks. Drummer Weasel Walter is known for his unrelenting momentum, and this performance finds him in peak form. Where legendary musicians like Rashied Ali and Tony Oxley pushed free drumming to new vistas of articulation and activity, WW cranks that intrepid mania up another bunch of notches, whipping up an absolutely merciless tornado of tightly coiled percussive activity (or well chosen silence, in some cases). This shit sounds like a “Machine Gun” era Brotzmann or Milford Graves’ “Babi” played on 78 instead of 33. Admit it. Masayuki Takayangi might have been proud. This is true energy music for the 21st Century, not looking backwards for a single second. The trio of Escalante, Leguía, and Walter throw down a goddamn hair-raising gauntlet for extreme free music. Love it or hate it, but admit there’s nothing quite like it