The name of the group is apropos: there is a remoteness, an aloofness, perhaps a British sensibility to the Remote Viewers, a trio of three saxophonists who add lots of electronics and vocals to the mix. Hard to pigeonhole, the results are disturbingly abstract, often morose, and sometimes dry and dark. David and Louis Petts are joined by Adrian Northover's soprano sax, and the full sound belies the small number of performers. Louis Petts' haunting voice is the primary focus of the recording. She is a very serious interpreter of her lyrics, which are half sung, half recited. The words are poetry (an example: "There, like sunburst over hourly oscillation the distancing heart over the towering spirit almost gone"), and the somber recital paints a pale, often spooky tapestry. The saxophones are offered somewhat limited opportunities, though they punch powerfully when called to do so. This is disturbing music, though, mostly joyless, yet powerful in its own perturbing way. Don't file under easy listening.
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AllMusic Review by Steve Loewy