All the Dirt That's Fit to Print

Greg Ginn's productivity verged on the breakneck side when he returned in 1993 as a solo artist. He quickly issued three albums under his name, and even time for two more albums with Gone, the instrumental trio that he'd jump-started during the twilight of his former band, Black Flag. Sitting still clearly isn't in his nature, but Ginn diehards won't mind: nor should they. This version of Gone benefits from the infusion of drummer Gregory Moore and bassist Steve Sharp; they thunder every bit as hard as their predecessors Sim Cain and Andrew Weiss, but with greater tightness and precision. Ginn's freeform punk jazz fusion approach remains intact, only with less emphasis on jamming for its own sake.

But more structure doesn't automatically equate to easier listening; sardonic titles like "Meet Me In The Van" and "Picket Fence Asylum" don't quite mesh with Ginn's singular string-bending. Like his equally cerebral counterpart in King Crimson, Robert Fripp, Ginn doesn't cater to his listeners' expectations; you hear what you get, so compromise isn't on the agenda.

Like other Gone releases, perversity is the procedure here. Tempos fly apart just when they're speaking with one voice; once a guitar solo makes sense, Ginn tosses off some sloppy chording or nail-on-chalkboard lead to keep the proceedings honest. Even if you don't enjoy Ginn's brand of instrumentalism, it's tough to dismiss someone so single-mindedly bent on taking chances, which makes this album a satisfying ride.