Carbon Glacier - Laura Veirs

Track list:

1. Ether Sings
2. Icebound Stream
3. Rapture
4. Lonely Angel Dust
5. The Cloud Room
6. Wind Is Blowing Stars
7. Shadow Blues
8. Anne Bonny Rag
9. Snow Camping
10. Chimney Sweeping Man
11. Salvage a Smile
12. Blackened Anchor
13. Riptide

Running time: 39 minutes
Released: 2004

I think my first exposure to Laura Veirs must have been through LastFM. All I remember is that something drove me to pick up July Flame which I absolutely adored and from there I picked up a smattering of her other work, but never went all in. This is one of a number of other Veirs albums I did pick up. If I enjoy this as much as I think I might, I may have to fill the back-catalog holes. Thirteen tracks in thiry-nine minutes is a fair clip, so lets get to it.

Ether Sings has a stronger emphasis on the vocal than I would expect. I am not sure it works that well; Veirs' voice is an odd one and this sort of strong vocal centre does not suit it that well in my view. The backing is a cute little guitar loop and some odd electronics which lend the piece a Jeckyll and Hyde quality to it. I would file the song under interesting rather than good. The second track also has Veirs' vocal as a loud centrepiece. This track uses that better though, with a more piecemeal backing that sort of fits around her. It is immediately more appealing, even though that backing is also somewhat untuneful in places.

It is the day after the clocks went back. 4pm and the skies are already starting to darken. I hate this time of year. It will be worse tomorrow, when I expect it will be largely if not entirely dark before I leave work. Joy. I am hoping that there are some nice songs in here to help take my bitter mind off the impending dark winter. Rapture has a nice echoing effect to it, the vocal is softer, which I think suits it better, and it has a sense of narrative to it - quite apart from the lyrics, the different strands of the arrangement, and different phrases of the composition carry this over. I rather like it.

I can't shake the feeling that this weekend has been a bit of a write off. After a nice evening of boardgames on Friday night I feel that I have managed nothing in the time since. I don't even feel rested after taking advantage of the extra hour to stretch to almost 11.5 hours in bed. My eyes are drooping now as they were yesterday when I listened to Cara Dillon. I find my tired head nodding along with The Cloud Room though - this has a nice energy to it. A simple lyric performed with a distinctive voice, and a strong, if unadventurous, backing makes the chorus very appealing, and the weaving of electronics in the arrangement offset the rest of the sounds well enough to keep it interesting.

What follows that is stripped right back, and feels bare by comparison. There's a hint of the old west to Wind Is Blowing Stars to my ear - probably coming through from the way the fiddle is used to add a strained note here and there under the main tune. The tone of the album has been jumping around a bit, for sure, and it goes dark and bluesy next. The nicest touch is the addition of a deep male voice following Veirs' lead and providing an aural shadow, to go with the name. The haunting nature of the music is nice, but the vocal contrast - her bright and clear, him dark and looming - is what makes the song shine. I sit, largely spellbound whilst it plays out. I'd like to place that shadowing voice but I can't. What I can say is what it reminds me of, and that is the combination of Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan.

That masterful track is followed by a breezy instrumental - again playing with stereotypical western-y themes, with a somewhat honky-tonk key line. It is a brief interlude before Veirs' voice returns, offset by a gentle guitar and cymbals that evoke crashing waves. A sad song I think, though I don't make out enough of the lyrics to be sure. I love it when the arrangement picks up more, rounding out the sound and coalescing it into a stand out track. Snow Camping - you should try it.

Random thought: My fingers smell faintly of vanilla, popcorn eaten before I started this post.

There is a wonderful tone to the guitar on Chimney Sweeping Man. There is a slight echo to Veirs' voice here - an effect I think she must be fond of, but one that works very well with her singing voice so I cannot blame her for that. It contrasts the simple clarity of the melody nicely. I think, with a few still to go, that it is fair to say I really like this disc. Not as much as July Flame, but then it hasn't had the same crack at inveigling its way into my musical consciousness so that isn't really a surprise. Nothing here stands out quite as much as my favourite Veirs track, Summer is a Champion, but the general quality is high.

That said, there is a discordant edge to Salvage a Smile, a tightness to the strings that sets my teeth on edge. It makes for really tough listening, a screech of discomfort behind her words. Thankfully the track is short, and is washed away from my thoughts with the opening breaking waves of Blackened Anchor. This, too, has a tightness in the strings that form part of the opening swell, but here it is controlled - edgy, but emphatic and not unpleasant. It reminds me a little of the opening credits to Black Sails, which I really should get back to as I enjoyed season 1 a lot. The tune is an instrumental, and over quickly so I am into the closer.

Riptide is a simple guitar and voice effort, a nice roll to it, and a bit more depth after the first verse is done. Simple tapping percussion is a nice change, and I love her voice here. Slightly more rounded, very well fitted to the tune behind it. It is a chilled exit to the album, which has flown by. I really should look up her other works and fill out my holdings. There is just something about her take on Americana - for that is the easiest genre label to apply, if not a completely accurate one - that resonates well for me. The song leads out with a long instrumental, strings partnering the guitar and simple rhythm; the end arrives suddenly and without fuss, plunging me into the hum of my CPU and the tapping of these keys.

Laura Veirs (I keep typing Veris - darn fingers!) is great, guys. Check her out.

Cara Dillon - Cara Dillon

Track list:

1. Black Is the Colour
2. Donald of Glencoe
3. Craigie Hill
4. Green Grows the Laurel
5. The Lark in the Clear Air
6. The Lonesome Scenes of Winter
7. Blue Mountain River
8. I Wish I Was
9. The Maid of Culmore
10. She's Like the Swallow
11. I Am a Youth That's Inclined to Ramble

Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 2001

We side-track into folk songs now. This was Cara Dillon's debut solo work and one of the first folk albums I remember buying after getting into traditional music in my early 20s. I can't recall what drew me to it - I am almost certain it was bought unheard - but I did rather fall for a couple of the renditions on this recording, particularly the opening track, and liked it enough to buy at least one follow-up.

The piano part that opens traditional tune Black Is the Colour is polluted a bit by the organ accompaniment but that is easily overlooked once Dillon's voice joins in. There is a lovely tremour in her delivery, a slight warble that lends a warmth to the track. The song is sung faithfully, which is to say that  she hasn't gender-flipped it and made it about a black haired lad. All through I find myself drawn to the piano line (should be no surprise by now), a gentle repeating loop that gives more structure than real melody but captivates none-the-less. The tune whizzes by and it never seems to grow to the extent my recollection of it would suggest but it is still hugely pleasant.

Dillon's voice keeps her accent - or enough of it - intact. I think that was one of the major draws for me. Too many singers flatten their voices in song, ending up with a generic (if brilliant) singing voice as a result. Of course, having claimed that I am struggling to think of a clear example where the speaking and signing voices sound so very different. Typical. The second track has none of the warmth of the first; sounds a little tinny, a bit flat, phoned in. Less so in the vocal than in the arrangement to be fair, but it all feels a little disconnected. Craigie Hill, which follows, dispels that again by stripping everything back to voice and keys. Harmonies in the vocal, and a really nice swaying rhythm to the lines sell this track hard, and I feel the hairs on my arms standing in places. There is a bit more of a rich arrangement after the first verses are done, but the drumming is subtle and supportive. That the track works so well in both light and rich arrangements is because the singing is freed to star throughout.  Dillon's voice rises and falls, speeds through and draws out as needed and works really well with the layering effect; I think its production rather than backing vocals that gives the harmony.

Her voice is interesting. It does not always sound the strongest; at points in Green Grows the Laurel I am far from convinced by the singing. Yet at other points she clearly has something special. I think it better suits some songs, some forms. Oh god, mind blank. My eyes have shut as if lead weights were hung from my eyelids and along with that my brain has lost all train of thought. Sudden tiredness is weird.

A couple of tunes drift by whilst I try to reform my thoughts and focus on my task at hand. I find myself thinking Dillon sounds much better in harmony than alone. There is something about the timbre of her voice that is amplified when offset and that is where the really warm, engaging sounds are found. These are all traditional songs, but there are points in there where the more modern arrangements clearly stand out and add their own sense of things. The confluence of voices and instrumental crescendo on the chorus of The Lonesome Scenes of Winter is one such time, where the electrified guitar part and the rich interweaving of the wider arrangement really lift the track. As the tracks pass me by I find myself recognising large swathes of each which is something of a surprise because I don't really have any sense of listening to this at length for more than a decade.

The louder, richer moments - voices blended together, whether multiple sources or technical effects, and deeper arrangements - are the heart and soul of this album. They take the otherwise nice but plain tunes and inject a sense of personality, a stamp of ownership. A reason to listen to these recordings of them. I find my mind drifting more in the softer and quieter verses, but being dragged back on track by the choruses - I Wish I Was being a clear case of this, even though the choruses concerned lack discernable lyrics.

There is a chill sense to The Maid of Culmore, the more mournful tone and sparse opening bars cool the air. It is a tuneful take but a little too slow and sad for me to really enjoy in a state where my eyes want to droop. Two to go; I think I don't recognise She's Like a Swallow to start with, then the other musicians all come in and memory returns. I don't think it is a great tune, but it is a very comfortable one. Simply put, all the stresses are in the right places for me, and the way the piece comes together - again, energised by the crescendos and ensemble play - raises a comfortable and knowing smile. It just works.

As with the rest of the disc, the strongest moments in the final track come with the central theme. Not a chorus this time, but a repeated bridge that has solid playing and a hummed vocal melody that envelops the listener with warmth - it is a swell, another crescendo that is mirrored behind parts of the verse too. Its a lovely effect, the intertwined vocal lines really making it. Cara Dillon - best in stereo, or something.

Capricornia - Allo Darlin'

Track list:

2. When You Were Mine

Running time: 3 minutes
Released: 2012

I have a quickie to fit in. A singleton from a single, I guess. I think I picked this up from Bandcamp after already having the A side as an album track but I could be wrong. I loved Allo Darlin' and frankly since then have picked up everything I have seen them do (rather than everything they've done) to somewhat mixed results. When they are good, though, they are very, very good indeed.

When You Were Mine is upbeat and tuneful, a guitar tootling around over a pacy rhythm. It has me tapping my foot immediately. The song is washing over me, I don't think it is the singer's best moment - there are points in the song where she sounds flat - but it serves mostly to counterpoint the tune and rhythm with a different sort of sound, obscuring the repetitive nature of the composition enough for it to be enjoyable. Not their strongest effort, but a pleasing little 3 minute pop song. And that is me done!

Cantando - Bobo Stenson Trio

Track list:

1. Olivia
2. Song of Ruth
3. Wooden Church
4. M
5. Chiquilín de Bachín
6. Pages
7. Don's Kora Song
8. A Fixed Goal
9. Love, I've Found You
10. Liebesode
11. Song of Ruth (variation)

Running time: 77 minutes
Released: 2008

Yet more jazz from northern climes. A bit of a glut, it seems. This is a long one, and not conveniently split into two parts. Bobo Stenson is a Swedish pianist, so I guess I was looking for another gem like Esbjörn Svensson (not that there is any reason why two Swedish jazz pianists leading trios need be alike in any way). I have no strong recollections of these tunes though, so I guess there was nothing that stand out. That said, I doubt I have sat down and really given it time or space before.

The first thing I notice, as I hit play is that these tunes appear to be composed by others. Whilst Stenson leads this trio, he is credited with co-writing just one of the tunes. This is a surprise to me, but there is certainly enough jazz out there to support a recording full of reinterpretations - though admittedly I wouldn't be surprised if my track metadata is innacurate. Olivia is all wandering keys, disconnected bass and playful drums... a lounge-like insouciance (yes the word means what I think it does); I wish I had some of that. This post has been two weeks coming as a result of weddings (not mine), not enough sleep and getting my priorities screwed up. I blame the length of this disc, about as long as CDs ever get. I am forcing myself to do it on a Sunday evening to try to rekindle the drive behind this project. Whilst I have been making excuses, Olivia has kept playing, flitting in and out of my conscious thoughts. It doesn't have a dominant or coherent tune really - more a collection of small snatches of sound. They are nice and all, but it doesn't sustain complete attention or interest for the seven allotted minutes.

There is a stronger theme to Song of Ruth, the piano weaving a sombre and solemn tune around a skittering percussion and sparsely structural bass. I rather like the timbre, but it feels a little overwrought, bearing down on my choice to listen this evening. There are little moments of light though, when the piano reaches the higher registers there is a nice, hopeful musicality to the notes. Whereas the last couple of Nordic jazz listens have been short, snappy tunes for the most part, many of these tunes are longer, echoing the epics of the past. I am not feeling in the mood for lengthy oeuvres, but that is what I face.

Suffice to say that the similarities with Svensson end at being Swedish. Googling whilst Wooden Church struggles to engage me I find that Stenson is 20 years older than Svensson would be were he still with us. This does not surprise me; these tunes have a more traditional, less energetic, feel to them and are failing to excite. Don't get me wrong, the playing is nice and the sounds are pleasant enough, but the lack of urgency and laid back nature of these pieces is failing to grab me in any way. That is probably in part because I am having to force this listen but there is definitely an element of this being a bit too stately for my tastes. The opening of M is the best the disc has been so far, the piano skimming over a lot of high notes, the contrast with a low thrum from the bass and the skittering percussion is sweet and welcome. The tune is pleasant and dominant - the latter hasn't always been true thus far - and a bit more intricate. Something to get stuck in to.

The stronger sounds from the keyboard are a welcome shift in tone, and I find myself really enjoying M as it continues. It shows the wonder a good melody can offer. There is not too much change in bass and drums really from the tracks that preceded M, but the difference in the piano part is huge. More life, more action, more heart. The thing is - you often need percussion and structure for tunes to shine, and not everyone can be the hero all the time. Sometimes it is better for those disciplines to stay in the shadows a little. I can understand the desire to do something a little different, play with preconceptions and have these guys get their times to shine but... pianos are just so much better at carrying!

I am drawn back from a wandering mind by another moment where the "let the others have their day" mindset sticks out. Bass solos just aren't (generally) that interesting, you know. That goes double for drum solos. M appears to be the exception, not the rule; whilst there is more of a tune running through the subsequent number, it doesn't have the same strength of character and the devolution into spotlights for the supporting cast typifies it, making for a forgettable piece. We are then launched into a 13 minute epic, and it is fair to say my hopes are not high. Pages starts at a glacial pace and seems to be shooting for an atmospheric quality that nothing which has gone before suggests will be a success. It manages to be a little haunting, but at the same time it is also largely bland - too much space left around each note, and those notes not conveying enough.

The track goes silent for a second about 3 and a half minutes in. Sound returns with an edgy scratching from the percussion. This is not comfortable listening, but that edginess wouldn't be a problem if the resulting sounds were gripping - instead... well, it sounds a little bit like that one jazz stereotype, the one that, to me as someone who listens to a fair bit of jazz as part of a balanced musical diet, is utterly infuriating. The one that spawned the Jazz Club sketches on The Fast Show (Nice!).

That everyone is separately making it up as they go.

Ugh. I hate that as a throwaway insult but, as much as that is the case, it feels like it applies here. Worse, the 13 minute track is actually made up of several shorter sections that have very different themes. I don't get any sense of cohesion from the piece, no flow, no reason why these disparate sounds have been adjoined in this manner. For my money none of the little snippets are that interesting in and of themselves and they become less so when strung together like this. Pages is a sure fire casualty.

Huh, now that is interesting. The bass-led opening of Don Kora's Song has me thinking of Rodrigo y Gabriela of all things. Something in the cadence of the track has a Latin vibe and the hum of the bass is evocative of their guitar work. It is a huge step up in interest. There is a nice tune there - both melody and bass structure are coming from the keys, though the actual upright bass is contributing, the dominant theme is from the lower register piano, which means Stenson is playing two tunes, albeit one simple and repeating, with one hand each. This gives a nice effect, but arguably the track is more effective when the bassy part is being plucked. Or rather, it would be if the weighting towards the keys was maintained whilst that were happening - in practice the key treble is backed off in the recording. Still, a big step forward and the first sub 6-minute track.

The second "half" of the album is much shorter than the first and we blow through the next two tracks in half the run time of Pages. The first of those is an Ornette Coleman tune (I recognise the name but cannot claim familiarity with his work). I find it a bit tuneless for my taste, and it is best just before it closes. Too little, too late. The second is just over 3 minutes and a much more delicate tune. It suffers a little from too much weight on the wandering bass - the melody would have more impact if it was cleaner and clearer, but making the piano any stronger in and of itself would destroy the delicateness the tune conjures. I like it, to a point but it would be better with a solo piano.

Two to go. Liebesode (not to be confused with Liebestod by And None of Them Knew They Were Robots - there is an unlikely tag for you!) is again longer. It is mournful, with funereal pace. Lonely and sad strings carry the early part of the tune, with the piano hovering in the bass register. I am not sold on the strings here, there isn't much in their part here other than a huge serving of sadness and  it is a little overbearing. When the piano contributes more than the odd note it helps lift the piece and, as we pass 5 minutes, it seems to take over the lead. Alas the pace and timbre are unchanged and it is that stately, sad nature of the track that fails to work for me. The melody has become something of a joy but alas it is fighting against an indifference the rest of the playing did a lot to create.

The final number is a reprise of Song of Ruth and seems to have the keys alone, at least to begin with. Whilst it is a little subdued in tone I find I like it - the clarity of sound on the melody is appreciated, though it becomes dilutes some when the drums join in after a while. This is not a happy song, not played like this at least (I am not familiar with the original composition), but this particular variation does not have the same over-the-top tendency that I found on the earlier version. It gets a bit too busy at the half way mark, the flow of the tune broken up a little by the increase in tempo and complexity but once I adjust to the new level of activity it still has an even keel and better stressing. I think track two is for the chop and I'll just keep this one - it's much more engaging.

Time to go through and cut out some dead wood, then. And just in case anyone expects it now, next time out on these pages won't be more Scandinavian jazz.

Buoyancy - Nils Petter Molvær

Track list:

1. Ras Mohammed
2. Gilimanuk
3. Moute Cave
4. Jackson Reef
5. Puri Jati
6. Lamna Reef
7. Amed
8. Martoli Bridge
9. Kingfish Castle
10. Maddagala

Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 2016

More Scandi-jazz, bought alongside Atmosphères - though I have been familiar with Molvær for longer than Henriksen. I was first attracted by description of how the trumpet was laid on over electronic soundscapes but to be honest since my initial purchase (NP3) I think I may have been picking stuff up based on name recognition and concept rather than any deep appreciation of Molvær's actual material. This will be a good litmus test.

It opens with a heartbeat-sounding throb, but then introduces prog-rockish guitars, the horn lurking inside melodies that wouldn't be out of place in a concept album. The piece picks up some pace about the 2.30 mark and it has a decent life to it, but it is a little removed from anything I could have expected going in. I am starting to wonder whether a trumpet appears at all in this Pink Floydian first tune when I hear a snatch of it, unmistakable. It is not the star though, part of the ensemble here.

As we leave prog-rock behind for the start of the second track, the attention does focus on the blower. This tune is slower, languid, and with a hint of danger. Night time noir music - I have used this description many times by now and I still find it the most easily evocative phrasing for what I mean. Rooted in soundtracks, night shots of cities, aerial or street shots, camera pans - scene setting stuff rather than accompanying the action or showdowns - but definitely reminiscent of a certain type of tension. Jazz is good at this, even when not made by the Americans that come most readily to mind when thinking of Noir. Even when the sounds are more modern than the "classic" noir era would support. I think its fair to say I like Gilimanuk, though the name could use some work.

After a brief interlude we hit a more percussive number, Jackson Reef being driven by a high tempo and heavy on the electronics. The themes that come out dominant are actually slow, low and spaced out affairs, and the contrast between this and the incessant pace set by the drumming creates a decent cauldron before the melodies get a bit of a fuel injection and become more intricate for a while. I prefer the contrast though, and when that comes back the track improves again. About a minute from the end the percussion dies out and we get an outro that feels like a different track. Similarity is maintained in the guitars and the lonely trumpet strikes up to carry us home, outlasting the strands of continuity. It makes for a strange ride of a tune, but apart from the moment where the drums just stop it works quite nicely and organically.

I have, I am sure, mentioned before about my weakness for long, lonely notes. I find that the trumpet is pretty much king when it comes to delivering on this. There is a yearning in the natural timbre of this instrument that when employed in certain fashion or style becomes the dominant and overriding emotion in the piece. Puri Jati has this in spades and I really like it. The tune also manages to hark back to the Bastion soundtrack by virtue of its low-end structures, and that reference makes me smile. The two themes I picked up there should be incongruous in many ways but I find they knit together well. As I consider that, the disc plays on and a slower number lazily reaches out to my ears. There is definite variation on this disc, which is a plus-point... though as I type that the electronics evolve into a high pitched squeak and make for a rather unpleasant end to the track.

Amed is the longest track on the disc. To now, everything has been relatively short and sweet, lending a feeling of momentum even on the tracks with less pace. This one stretches to 9 minutes, and as such I am expecting a centrepiece.

It starts slow, atmospheric, and builds. Mostly bass and trumpet, the former bringing threat and the latter bringing hope. When, about half way through, the guitars and electronics arrive they emphasize the first of these two elements, and it becomes a dark, screechy track, long drawn out screeches, cries for help. The drums and bass pick up speed and the thrumming basis for the piece grows around the electronics, establishing dominance. It has definitely built, and it definitely works as a focal point for the disc. The trumpet, meanwhile, disappeared somewhere along the way; what results is a piece that I like but which could be by any number of purveyors of electronica. Then it all goes quiet, the trumpet returns and we end with a final act that bids recollection, reminiscence. A masterwork it isn't, but it is a good solid epic around which to build the album.

Three tracks come after. The first is short and reverential, Molvær's horn standing alone, with some background static that hints at waves; it's a nice palate cleanser. The next actually resonates with the title of the album, the rhythms here conjouring images of a boat rocking on waves, tipping cargo gently from side to side and making soft impacts each time. Its a lovely effect because whilst the reality of boats bobbing on waves isn't as regular as the rhythm behind this sound, the actual beat pattern carries a feel of irregularity to it, whilst still serving as the backbone for the themes that are layered over it. This might be my favourite track on the disc, and I have only really taken on board the percussion. The bobbing percussion is dropped at the end, along with all themes, for an engine-like rumble that just sees the tune out; this I find an odd choice, and a disappointing one.

The final track feels lighter, pairing the trumpet with a nice guitar theme which gives me a Mogwai-like vibe, albeit perhaps a little more chilled. I can't shake the feeling it goes too long without introducing major variation though, and it all merges to become a little bland as a result. Nice sounds, but going nowhere, if you will. There is a shake up in tone and theme about the midpoint of the track but it feels too late. The tune, particularly the trumpet line, is nice but my brain has already disengaged a little, the smell of food cooking, and the knowledge of work to do.

All in all, I think this is a nice disc, and one I can see spending more time with, but not anything outstanding. Molvær's ideas are interesting and worth exploring, even if they don't always reach that one step further that would turn them to genius.

Atmosphères (Disc 2) - Tigran Hamasyan, Arve Henriksen, Eivind Aarset, Jan Bang

Track list:

9. Traces VII
10. Traces VIII
11. Shushiki
12. Hoy, Nazan
13. Traces IX
14. Traces X
15. Angel Of Girona / Qeler Tsoler

Running time: 39 minutes
Released: 2016

Disc 2 of Atmosphères. I have continued track list numerically, because I can, and because that is how it was represented when I looked it up wherever it was I copied it from.

Yesterday I loved part 1; the opening notes of this disc though leave a fair bit to be desired. Chaotic is probably the best word for it. Entropic. Not musical, more a collection of snatched sounds from the various instruments and samples rather than a piece to be enjoyed. Cohesion comes into the picture a bit more as the tune finds its feet but it is still a far cry from the best strains of yesterday's enjoyment - the mellow and caressed playing is nowhere in sight. And this track is 9 minutes long. Poles apart from yesterday.

I am a frustrated man this evening. Back to work tomorrow morning for a very busy day, and one of my main aims for the weekend has been shot down. Twice I went round the neighbours' place to talk to them about the damp situation that my plumber and building inspector both thought was likely to be a leak on their side; twice no answer. The first time I think they were out, but the second time, windows open, washing out... no answer all the same. Frustrating. Need to get their landlord's phone number because if there is a leak their side I can't repair the damage on mine with any confidence. I was hoping that some gloriously created jazz themes might be the antidote to that frustration, but this digression is because Traces VII never does come together as an enjoyable piece. It gets less cacophonous and more considered in places but the overall impression is still far from favourable.

This is the only really long piece on disc 2. Like the first half, this part of Atmosphères is made up of more bitesize numbers, with the other 6 all under that many minutes. Traces VIII is a little more akin to the glories of disc 1 but it still seems to me to have an edge to it, a tension and a starkness. The trumpet is taut, bleak and stretched in places, the piano wandering the lower registers of its keyboard. Isolation and unease are two major impressions that I am getting. At this point, I think I will welcome the two Komitas tunes to come, and I find myself wondering if that is why they ordered the tracks in this way.

I got some proper exercise today, getting out cycling. I didn't go far really - probably no further in fact than my previous two exploratory forays - but what I did do is leave town and do a stretch which involved no stopping or slowing for the first time since I bought the bike. Glad I did, though I felt like I was dying after I made it back (not before mind; only once I was back in the door). They say it's good for you, you know.

The music has definitely taken another step towards coherence and recognisable tunes. Not as astounding as those on the first half, but better in that regard (and in favour) than the first two numbers of tonight's attention. The main piano theme in Shushiki is gorgeous, the space they have filled around it somewhat less so. Another beautiful piano melody strikes up as that one dies. Hoy, Nazan quickly becoming my favourite so far this evening. There is a wonderful clarity about the sound of the keys here, up and down the scale, played quickly as fingers flicker hither and yon. The other instruments exist only to offer support, as it should be. This is more like it, but very fleeting.

Two more Traces next. The first one is all wandering sounds... like an empty pitch black room where things collide occasionally. You hear the silence as a sense of space - walls enclosing you as the darting noises come and go. It segues from a piano melody to the trumpet at some point... melody in the loosest sense of the word. Like on the first disc I see them building a real, well, atmosphere through their playing. Unlike yesterday I am failing to find the magic in the creations. Maybe that speaks more to my mindset, my frustration coming through, but I think there is a tonal shift here. Less beautifully played soft piano pieces with haunting backing, more haunting backing with occasional tune surfacing. It feels kind of backwards. The final Trace is a low rumble, two minutes with virtually nothing else to it, then a brief hint of a tune. It isn't enough, but when it does start building the swells of sound are really very appealing, subtlety restored and bringing rewards. Perhaps this second post is prejudiced by the first. I had no expectations yesterday; today they were high and largely dashed.

The final number is a lonely trumpet calling out over wandering bassy keys and the now de rigueur atmospherics. The trumpet has an Asian or Middle-Eastern aspect to it; fitting. The close comes with the sound of waves, sweeping in and washing away the final trace. Overall, Atmosphères is still very good - but I found this second half far less enthralling than the first. Right place, right time perhaps.

Atmosphères (Disc 1) - Tigran Hamasyan, Arve Henriksen, Eivind Aarset, Jan Bang

Track list:

1. Traces I
2. Tsirani Tsar
3. Traces II
4. Traces III
5. Traces IV
6. Traces V / Garun A
7. Traces VI
8. Garun A (Variation)

Running time: 49 minutes
Released: 2016

Left-field purchase time. Well, sort of. I have a fair bit of Scandinavian jazz music kicking about and I was familiar with Avre Henriksen, which is why this caught my eye when browsing Amazon recently. The blurb made this work sound particularly interesting - based around Armenian folk patterns, courtesy of the pianist, which could be a nice blend. First listen.

The thing I immediately notice is the names of the tracks. Everything is Traces, except tunes that are directly handed down from Armenian musician Komitas. I guess the others are "traces" of his work too, to some degree, giving the album its theme. Most of them are short - a touch over pop song length, not what I might have expected going in - but Traces V makes up for that, running to 12 minutes.

The opening bars are quiet. There is a humming, slow oscillating bass and then a light-touch piano starts up. It is all very chilled, very zen. Very discreet background music for quiet moments. You couldn't listen to this whilst out and about, or whilst driving, because you just wouldn't hear it over the intrusions of the wider world. Its soft enough listening to it in my front room with just a hint of traffic noise from wet roads coming in from outside. I like the gentleness of it, though it would perhaps be better for late night relaxation than early evening study. The piece remains all about the keys and that thrum, though another focal point is added towards the end of the piece; the trumpet hardly makes an audible appearance, and I believe that one of the others is a guitarist and there is little concrete trace of them either.

There is a real charm about the way Hamasyan caresses the keys of his piano. He has a soft touch, a wandering hand that reminds me of the joys of simply letting your hands wander over keys with no real forethought of what might come up. The piano is most noticeable in the higher registers, which adds to this lazy improvisational impression - even as he is playing one of the composed pieces. Here, Henriksen's trumpet is the main accompaniment, taking up a significant part of the melody. Again there is a low-level brooding in the background sounds; it reminds me a little of Vangelis', specifically some of the Blade Runner soundtrack in places - coming back to how little melodies drift in and out over a slightly brooding background. Do like.

Suddenly all is a blur of motion, rapid hands running all over the keyboard. That is quite a departure in tone, nothing like as soothing as what has gone before. The hubbub dies down a little at the Traces continue, but it has introduced a more frenetic, more urgent sound and feeling to the work. That energy persists even as the piece is muted, low amplitude, in the vein of what came before. This second Trace stands alone in its urgency though, as that impetus and energy is absent again once the track ticks over. On the one hand I now miss it; on the other the piano part is so darn nice that whilst I find the slow tempo, quietude, and generally subdued nature of the pieces soporific, I also find the music enchanting and enticing.

The quiet nature of the pieces does seem to encourage distraction though in the context of this exercise. If I were sat back, not recording my thoughts, I could close my eyes and concentrate on the low key wonder, the spaces in and around the melodies in these tracks. Having to be upright, alert and typing though, the sparse nature of the work finds me falling into sinkholes - spaces in the music becoming spaces in my thought as my concentration wavers from my task. I have said before that these posts are not reviews, and I am not a critic; I find it hard to put the right words on this work. My wavering attention is absolutely not a bad sign, not correlated to my appreciation. This is a special kind of disc... it is so much of a light touch that sometimes you may lose track of it, but every trace you find and catch is amazingly well executed that despite the tendency to want a little more to latch on to it draws you in, right up until the point where the sound drops so soft that you lose track again.

I have hit the long number and for the first time some dissent. The way is opens (hah! It is 3 minutes in by the time I am typing this) is less enveloping, less magical. I couldn't close my eyes and drift on this in the way that I could with what has come before.

I find myself wondering where music like this fits in the modern world; the pieces espouse quiet, calm and solitude and it really takes an effort to create the right space to listen to such things. Time and effort I don't imagine most people can or will make. Hell, were it not for this project I doubt I would ever get to enjoy this... I would have bought it, then skipped every track on a shuffle for being too quiet, too demanding to listen to in the same way that I consume the majority of my music. And that is a real shame. I am less than half way through Atmosphères (given there is a second disc to come) but it is leaving quite an impression. It is properly an album, not a collection of tunes, and it demands to be consumed as such. Were its pieces surrounded by tonally dissonant works, these are the ones that would suffer more for it. And for all that I am loving these tunes, I doubt seriously that I will ever enjoy them quite the same way, or as much, again. One and done, despite falling in love with it. That thought makes me sad, but the realities of keeping this project moving - of finding the time to the things I have decided for myself I will listen to - have proved difficult enough in busy times.

Mood, killed.

Trace 6 is disappointing. Like the one earlier that had unexpected energy, this is at odds with the overall tone of the record. Unlike that one, this does not seem to have much else to recommend it instead. It is a more piecemeal effort, with the musicians coming across less in sync, and the piano, which I have particularly loved, relegated to a bit part/supporting role. It just falls a little flat, though part of that may be my self-induced buzzkill. Thankfully the final piece - another Komitas-penned tune - ends this first half on a more representative and enjoyable note, with the piano and trumpet weaving around each other nicely.

I have no words left, find myself at a loss to adequately describe the nature of the sounds. I am left with the nagging doubt that progress isn't always such, and that the pace of modern life does much to zone out work like this, to our detriment.