[1][2][3][4][5][6] According to Parker, the recording came about when he decided to document the current state of his playing, and impulsively contacted recording engineer Michael Gerzon, who managed to book the Holywell Music Room on short notice.

"[1] Martin Longley of All About Jazz called the album "a significant work," and stated: "All of [Parker's] tics have now been bound together into a merged voice, providing an alternative form of minimalism that can also be, upon tilting the ears, considered as maximalism... Parker's development of circular breathing techniques had now opened up the potential for marathon flowing.

"[9] Writer John Fordham described the album as "a remarkable exposition of [Parker's] talents," and commented: "Parker's achievement is to create a saxophone soundscape of completely personal materials, with little or no references to orthodox idioms, yet deliver it with such intensity - and sometimes ferocity - as to make its vocabulary and syntax utterly logical.

"[10] Writing for Coda, Stuart Broomer remarked: "the music gains from the room's very lively acoustics.

"[11] In an article for Paris Transatlantic, Nate Dorward wrote: "this album marks the logical endpoint to Parker's solo music--he didn't record another until Lines Burnt in Light (2001), which just sounds like a footnote to this one – but it's still one of his most perfectly realized creations.