Since its formation as a saxophone quartet in 1988 by multi-instrumentalist Eric Sleichim, Bl!ndman’s dynamic performances and recordings have sought to harness the energy and propulsion of minimalism and jazz with rock’s raw gestural power. These qualities are found in abundance on this impressive three-disc set, which highlights the contributions of three of minimalism’s pathbreaking founders: Terry Riley, Philip Glass and Steve Reich. The third disc ends with a work that many consider to have kick-started the movement: Riley’s In C. Supplemented by keyboards, electric and bass guitars, strings and a diverse range of tuned, untuned and electronic percussion, Bl!ndman’s approach to Riley’s one-page score is one of a journey-like exploration through the material. It’s a less composed and constructed performance than their live recording with Ictus Ensemble (Cypres, 2000), but nevertheless vividly captures the freewheeling, psychedelic spirit of Riley’s timeless classic in a way that many recordings have failed to do since the landmark Columbia recording in 1968. The slightly gritty, rugged timbral quality of In C is carried through to the early Glass pieces on the second disc, now combined with pinpoint accuracy, precision and control. Music in Fifths, Music in Contrary Motion and Music in Similar Motion are all dispatched with the kind of incisiveness, collective cohesion and steely focus reminiscent of the Philip Glass Ensemble’s own performances of Glass’s music during its heyday in the 1970s and ’80s. And it’s in the 1980s (and beyond) that Reich’s music is represented, including Nagoya Marimbas, three out of four of the composer’s Counterpoint pieces and the Triple Quartet. Pungent baritone interjections mark the final movement of New York Counterpoint in a punchy version for saxophones rather than the usual clarinet ensemble, while Bl!ndman impart a vibrant sense of suspended animation throughout the Triple Quartet by placing more emphasis on the work’s melodic than on its rhythmic qualities. The Reich interpretations are generally more relaxed, reserved and understated, however. What Suzanne Vermeyen’s rendition of Cello Counterpoint gains in clarity and transparency is perhaps lost in intensity when compared to Maya Beiser (Nonesuch, 10/05). The performances themselves are nonetheless faultless; and, who knows, in 50 years’ time, ‘Icons’ may well acquire the same iconic status as the music it sets out to represent.