Out went the disciplined and highly skilled engineer John Wood, and in came the open-minded engineer Richard Digby Smith, equally skilled but more accepting of epic cocaine binges. Martyn, now, is his own producer. It becomes a little harder to think about Danny Thompson and Martyn drinking and slugging their way around Britain at this point, either classifying themselves as “boyish” or “nasty” depending on the day. I would defer to Beverley Martyn’s memoir, Sweet Honesty, for any conclusive character adjudication. Along with the Mutron phaser and Maestro Echoplex, Martyn and Thompson call in the services of drummer Remi Kabaka, saxophonist Bobby Keyes, and keyboardist Stevie Winwood. There are great songs here, like “Fine Lines,” but the overall approach is a free-flowing improvisation session, and it works brilliantly. What Martyn arrived at was something closer to a version of jazz with less complex harmonies and more loony vocalese. The kids would say “vibes” and they’d be right. His favorite album, until the end.