Adam Golebiewski's Pool North is the kind of album that doesn't let the listener enjoy the casual experience of an audition, but forces a plunge into a place of absolute darkness, where the rusted wailing of whatever object one could imagine gives the sensation of an uncomfortable closeness that can be compared with the experience of a live but intimate set.

Like sitting with your eyes closed, right in the heart of the performance, by the time you think you have been offered a moment to catch your breath and realise what is happening to your senses, the clinking noises and scrambling sounds start telling a different story, rushing in and out as if running from Golebiewski's frantic hits on the bass drum.

As the album progresses, so does the process of improvisation, his choice in developing the sonic details, rather than volume, leaving enough space for the ear to perceive even a string of hair touching the drum kit. There will be no percussion playing on this album, but an exploration of the vocabulary of sounds, performed in the manner of harmonic instruments. Avoiding to construct an improvisational monologue, Golebiewski responds to his own calls without using many structural forms, jumping and tossing ideas from one gesture even after it's echo has been gobbled by a different nuance.

An apparently short but flickering experience, Pool North was recorded using a few microphones, a drumset and objects that speak on so many voices, you could find yourself listening to the album in a loop that will uncover subtle tones that can very well make for a serious listening test.

Tracklist:

1. Straight, mute
2. Decay
3. Left hand shake
4. Ellington tradition
5. Half blame
6. Manner and timbre
7. Glass of seawater