Yearly Archives: 2014

It’s the illusory sense that this is a Nordic Jazz album that makes Vekk so damn absorbing.  And though members of Kvartett (consisting of saxophonist Erik Bogaerts, pianist Alexi Tuomarila, bassist Axel Gilain and drummer Lionel Beuvens) do hail from lands that generally offer up that particular style of folk-jazz serenity, there’s never anything more than a strong hint of that on Vekk… but it’s just the right amount and inserted at just the right spots to resonate strongly throughout this excellent EP.

Typically, that serenity leads each song out, rarely returning unless for the final wave goodbye.  Title-track “Vekk” has the anxious moan of bass arco, the breathy hiss of sax, and percussion that jangles and thumps with a quiet discord.  “Masar” opens like a track from a Marcin Wasilewski Trio recording, a comparison that doesn’t lose any of its significance with the addition of saxophone and the train of patient expressions occasionally broken by sudden talkative bursts.  No different on “Hymne,” where lilting saxophone phrases sent drifting out over the surface of a glittering piano trio instill a gorgeous, peaceful ambiance that could put an ECM Records release to shame.  “Ner6ens” is contemplative piano music with the faintest hint of bass accompaniment.  It’s the only one of four tracks that keeps things peaceful throughout its duration.

On the other tracks, though, once that opening expression of serenity has ended, things get heated.  Tempos pick up the pace, solos go from introspective statements to riveting dialog, and group interplay becomes a tool for dramatic rises and falls.  And it’s the group interplay that wins the day for this recording.  On title-track “Vekk,” the combined effect of saxophone sighs, the dancing footsteps of drums, the long loping strides of bass, and the furious attack of piano snap neatly into place while simultaneously offering a world of contradictions and the lovely tension that results from that particular symbiosis of opposing factors.  The intersecting lines of “Masar” keep the ear engaged from a number of angles, especially when those lines converge and a dispersion of sound becomes a satisfying, united front.  Equally enjoyable is the way soloists and support staff trade off the melody of “Ner6ens,” disregarding who, exactly, is supposed to be the one improvising at the time.  And then there’s the way that the quartet moves with a common motion on album-closer “Hymne,” building a thick ambiance through common vision and direction, weaving their parts into the detail of the rhythm and melody both.

This is one of those albums that’ll pull you right on in and won’t let get go.  I find myself returning to it with greater and greater frequency.  It hits the right spot.

The album is Self-Produced.

Jazz from the Antwerp, Belgium scene.

Available at:  Bandcamp | eMusic | CDBaby | Amazon MP3

A curious recording that has been occupying my attention lately is Aurum, the new one from saxophonist Piero Delle Monache.   A modern fusion of sorts, it combines a contemporary style of both jazz and rock, while adding influences from Monache’s “Thunupa African Tour.”  It results in music with a pop music attractiveness that’s predisposed to occasional eccentric displays of a strange and uneven personality.  It’s the kind of album that is best measured one song at a time, because taking it as a whole doesn’t necessarily make a lot of sense or result in a satisfactory answer.

“ABC” starts things out with music that is both moody and buoyant, like a sky of grey clouds and the dim sense of the sunlight beaming on their opposite side.  “Annie” follows it up with more of the same.  Monache’s sax glides lightly atop the gentle rhythms of bass and drums.  On piano, Ceccarelli shifts from a support role to that of a soloist, and his contribution carries the song forward with an equal grace.  Both songs rise up with a bit of intensity near their conclusion before dropping off into their original state.  Just a little bit of drama for a little bit of differentiation, and it sets things off for the remainder of the recording.

“Nairobi” is a hypnotically twirling play with rhythm, as piano, drums, bass and sax wind about one another, an endless loop gathered up in a net of electronics and effects.  “Fedex” finds a nifty balance between lite-jazz sweetness and space-jazz fuzziness.  “Un giorno come un altro” is a pretty folk-jazz tune that brings together a lilting tenor sax together with an acoustic guitar, mbira, and the soothing hush of brushes.  “La Festa” has a similar consistency, but is upbeat and chipper and shows its South African jazz influence proud.

Several songs are mere vignettes, too fully realized to be considered an interlude, too brief to be thought of as proper songs.  The alluring “Miramare” has the dancing atmospherics of a Nils Petter Molvaer soundscape, whereas “Blu 1” is reminiscent of a Bill Frisell concoction of the ethereal and the rustic.  “Angeli e demoni,” on the other hand, is a solemn duet between sax and piano, a straight-forward performance of a song with nothing to hide.

The album’s curious nature sees it through to the end.  The finale of “Marts Dub” has a thick, but atmospheric dance beat juxtaposed with ambient flourishes from sax and piano.  Like most of the songs on this intriguing album, it seems to have something and yet nothing at all to do with that which preceded it… an unpredictability that reveals a cohesive element only when viewed in the rear view mirror, if even that.  And it’s that effect which keeps bringing me back to this personable recording.

Your album personnel:  Piero Delle Monache (tenor & soprano saxes), Mauro Campobasso (electric & acoustic guitars, samples, live electronics), Giovanni Ceccarelli (piano, keyboards), Tito Mangialajo Rantzer (double bass), Alessandro Marzi (drums, percussion) and guests:  Luca Aquino (trumpet), Bepi D’Amato (clarinet), Mark Bardoscia (bass), Tati Valle (vocals) and Othnell Mangoma (percussion, mbira).      .

Released on Parco della Musica Records.

Jazz from the Pescara, Italy scene.

Available at:  eMusic | Amazon CD | Amazon MP3

Cantus Caterva II leads out with its heart.  Opening song “Lekitto eta kitto” immediately shows what this album is all about… songs with a vibrant head, rich with texture and liveliness that leads right into finely crafted melodies that were made to be remembered.  But it’s not just about great opening lines.  Shifts in tone and tempo string the melodies out, unravel them with one surprise after the next, yet develop in a way so natural that the surprises seem expected all along in the first place.  The way the opening bombast of wind instruments suddenly drops off for the light rainfall of keyboards, the saxophones modifying their behavior to fit in with the new leader.  The switch, then, over to a spirited piano solo as the instigator back to the opening bombast possesses an alluring fluidity that carries the ear effortlessly across the expanse of a song that flirts with something approaching the epic… if not for its composure and tasteful restraint.

And that is how Hasier Oleaga drives his newest album from first note to last.

The excitable rhythms of “Weyland Txirrindularia” lead from an opening bass solo, to stick work, to some punchy sax accompaniment.  The way languorous statements of melody are interspersed through the dynamic fields of percussion is just more evidence of the changes that reflect one of this album’s two strengths.  The other is the melody, and this song offers up a diamond as shiny as the opening track.  “Argitasunaren alde iluna” also lays out a carpet thick with rhythmic threads, but weaves intensity and moodiness into its pattern instead.

After what teases as a modern piece with an intro thick and lumbering, “Solvitur Ambulando” surprises with some swing, dancing light and lively across the dance floor.  “Niger Hole” also pulls a quick costume change, but this time shifts from a modern post-bop piece to something more free and volatile.  But even as the song enters states of agitation, the melody is still in the mix.

The ballad “Mayi” has a breezy appeal, as if its profession of love is sincere but totally off-the-cuff.  The album ends with the hot and cold blues of “Zure gaileta neure kafean bustitzen duzunean.”  There’s a tone of finality to the song, a melancholy weariness fitting of an album that put so much of its heart into the crafting of a set of beautiful melodies and a plan how to best present them.

This is one of those recordings that achieves a modicum of greatness by simply doing everything right and augmented by some well-times bursts of excellence.

Your album personnel:  Hasier Oleaga (drums), Mikel Andueza (alto sax), Julen Izarra (tenor sax), Iñaki Salvador (piano, keyboards), Jorge Abbeys (guitar), Jan Piris (bass), and Fernando Neira (electric bass).

Released on Errabal Jazz.

Available at:  eMusic | Amazon MP3