The Brötzmann / Parker / Drake group has been known as the "Die Like a Dog Trio" since recording the album Die Like a Dog: Fragments of Music, Life and Death of Albert Ayler with trumpeter Toshinori Kondo in 1993.[3][4] An April 24, 2001, concert in Houston, Texas was described as "an electrifying performance that left the crowd drained but begging for more."[5] Tad Hendrickson of CMJ New Music Report wrote that the trio "operates at a level of intuitive musicianship seldom achieved by others."[6]
The album was included in The Wire's 2003 Rewind,[10] and was listed as the year's #1 jazz recording.[2]
In a review for AllMusic, Thom Jurek wrote: "Brötzmann, Parker, and Drake reveal in depth here just how they have gelled as a trio... the intensity level is high from the jump."[7]
The authors of the Penguin Guide to Jazz Recordings awarded the album 4 stars, stating that it "catches the trio in magnificent form... Two long sets have very little in the way of treading water."[8]
A reviewer for Pitchfork commented: "This is a pernicious, pummeling disarray, like all of Brötzmann's albums, and he still makes time for some significant innovations... The instruments are still gloriously combusting all over this show, but there's a more melancholy lyricism affixed to them. This is the first Brötzmann album... that got stuck in my head hours after it had ended."[9]
Bill Shoemaker, writing for Jazz Times, stated: "whenever Brotzmann plays with bassist William Parker and drummer Hamid Drake, there is a palpable aura of spirits unleashed, furiously seeking right... the cathartic power of this album makes for a fitting tribute to Kowald."[11]
In an article for Dusted Magazine, Jason Bivins wrote: "It's a marathon ride, and from Brötz's opening shrieks on tarogato you know that seatbelts should remain firmly fastened. The trio cycles through most of its moods, registers, and instrumentations throughout the long and rewarding sets: crushing funk, rolling free expressionism, muscular swing, and the occasional dark textural mood... both discs are filled with the nice, harsh lyricism that distinguishes this band."[12]
The Free Jazz Collective's Stuart Broomer noted the album's "searing, visceral pull," and called Brötzmann "one of the great existential improvisers of free jazz, in that his intensity does not seem to move toward transcendence but instead speaks of expanding passion."[13]