Shayna Dulberger must have a death drive. “Improvisation” opens the album with an out-of-time clangor of cymbals, low-register bass and keening alto saxophone grating on each other in increasing levels of postmodern percussiveness. Dulberger, saxophonist Darius Jones and drummer Jason Nazary are the avant-garde equivalent of Jean-Paul Sartre’s No Exit; in this case, hell is other instruments. The track titles reflect a pattern of self-loathing: “When I Think About You I Hate Myself,” “Killher,” “Myopia,” “Lowed,” “Duct Tape.” The music follows suit, sounding like a band playing out the stages of grief in primal scream therapy. By “Appendix,” the penultimate track, the three have reached resonant frequency—low on the bass, high on the saxophone, loud on the cymbals—in what feels like an exorcism. “I Wish I Was…,” the closing track, takes the trio to a resolution point, a détente that averts mutually assured destruction.