I can't escape the jazz wormhole yet. Thankfully this one is more contemporary, and Scandinavian. Woo! I don't actually know what to expect here, but Henriksen was a contributor to Atmosphères, which I adored the first half of, and the other Norwegians from that project play here too. I am more hopeful for this than the listen just gone, and that had a few nice moments so...
It is a very muted start, in line with my mood. I am being ineffectual in my desire to get much done this week whilst off work. My body and brain not feeling up to the menial chores that need doing, in need of rest and relaxation instead. The soft backing is tense, the muted trumpet squeezing out strangled sounds, not clear notes and not bright sounds. The track is interesting and slightly edgy as a result. There is enough going on in the background to build a crucible for the oddly throttled horn, so it doesn't just sound like someone failing to play. With a less well crafted context it could, I am sure. It is quite an uncomfortable opening track, and even when the trumpet opens up into some more expansive sounds in the latter part of the tune it keeps an edge to it. That discomfort is quite compelling though, and I miss it as it closes.
I am surprised when Before and Afterlife has a vocal. Spoken. Recorded such that it overlays itself imperfectly in places. The odd blast from the trumpet behind it, other sounds appearing here and there. The opener was uncomfortable, this is more so. The voice is very... I dunno, comforting in timbre but made spooky by the glitches and deliberate distortions of the recording. It feels ghostly in that regard - there, but not there fully. An echo. Deliberate I am sure, given the track title. When the voice fades there is taut backing and a lonesome tune left behind, sounding like the accompaniment to a horror scene, exploring a deserted place in a certain era (the trumpet will forever evoke the early-mid 20th century; Hollywood saw to that). As much as I find this compelling, I was glad when the track ticked over and Migration was more... familiar? No, that's the wrong word. Its a more typical contemporary jazz trumpet track from my limited experience. The trumpet is lonely and there are electronics amongst the percussion and other bits and pieces supporting the solo melody. Cold soundscape. Precisely what I would have expected before I picked this up I reckon, based on my entry into this particular genre. There is a nice softness to the rhythm, and suitably sparse melodic bits and pieces back there. Not too much to smother the singular horn.
It is that singularity that draws me to this instrument; I am, at heart, quite a lonesome soul. I think I relate to the isolated sounds and strains, the context of the other players being the sea of people we all wade through - sometimes literally, sometimes only figuratively - every day of our lives. Like the lonely trumpet, I feel like I stand outside that sea, separated from others even as they are there and even though without them there would be nothing. Ugh - torturing a metaphor is something I seem to be good at.
Anyhow, a couple more short tunes have flown by whilst I was waffling my self-pity and singular angst; enough of that. Suffice to say that I am feeling a degree of isolation coming through in the tones here, but I would be surprised if I didn't.
Recording Angel may have a very stretched vocal. It's hard to tell, but in places it sounds like snatches of words. This tune is fairly chilling, edgy and stretched. There is a plaintive nature to the horn here and a hopeless one at times, too. The backing reminds me a little of prog rock or ambient music with its long, over-held tones but the effect is very sparse and cold. Cartography is the making of maps; this feels like traversing an unmapped icy wasteland - fraught and unwise.For all that, I really like it. I was at a gig a couple of weeks back and having a conversation with the friend I went with about discomfort in music. Some of the songs played had post-apocalyptic themes, and she found these less appealing because the theme was uncomfortable. Me? I liked them because they were very evocative, painting bleak but vivid pictures. The relevance to this album? She went on to say that's one reason she doesn't like jazz - discomfort about where things were going or what would happen next. I suspect that was meant in relation to more stereotypical (even traditional) jazz with improv and solos aplenty, but I think it applies to this type of bleaker contemporary piece too.
Me, I conjure images to accompany it. Evocation again.
Oh my... shivers. The opening notes on Loved One are so strained it sends convulsions down my nervous system. The horn is so... all over the place here, it is really pushing the limits of discomfort. Screeching. There is a pulsing effect to it too, breath stopping and starting perhaps? It sounds like a dying plea, desperation and despair. Not what I would associate with the track title. This pushes even my ability to appreciate the bleak from start to the point it finishes in what feels like mid-stanza.
I cannot but see trumpet tunes as (mostly) sad soundtracks generally, and this album is doing nothing to dissuade that perception. It is fair to say it is a very dark album, born of sunless Norwegian days, perhaps, and certainly suiting this time of year where light is at a premium. Channeling the cold and ice from without to within through the medium of music, and without giving you literal chills. I cannot necessarily see myself ever listening to this again but man, I am very glad I have given it a proper listen. It is not an easy album, but it is fascinating. Thermal is again a spoken story, and with the title of the final track reminiscent of the opening one, it feels palindromic in nature.
That said, the final track is a mournful melody, but with richer sound - both from the horn and through the addition of some strings and choral elements, so in fact it ends nothing like it begins. All in all... fascinating. So much so that I want to go read what others thought of its mix of discomfort, cold, loneliness and whatever it is that actually made it work. I still can't put my finger on that.
It is a very muted start, in line with my mood. I am being ineffectual in my desire to get much done this week whilst off work. My body and brain not feeling up to the menial chores that need doing, in need of rest and relaxation instead. The soft backing is tense, the muted trumpet squeezing out strangled sounds, not clear notes and not bright sounds. The track is interesting and slightly edgy as a result. There is enough going on in the background to build a crucible for the oddly throttled horn, so it doesn't just sound like someone failing to play. With a less well crafted context it could, I am sure. It is quite an uncomfortable opening track, and even when the trumpet opens up into some more expansive sounds in the latter part of the tune it keeps an edge to it. That discomfort is quite compelling though, and I miss it as it closes.
I am surprised when Before and Afterlife has a vocal. Spoken. Recorded such that it overlays itself imperfectly in places. The odd blast from the trumpet behind it, other sounds appearing here and there. The opener was uncomfortable, this is more so. The voice is very... I dunno, comforting in timbre but made spooky by the glitches and deliberate distortions of the recording. It feels ghostly in that regard - there, but not there fully. An echo. Deliberate I am sure, given the track title. When the voice fades there is taut backing and a lonesome tune left behind, sounding like the accompaniment to a horror scene, exploring a deserted place in a certain era (the trumpet will forever evoke the early-mid 20th century; Hollywood saw to that). As much as I find this compelling, I was glad when the track ticked over and Migration was more... familiar? No, that's the wrong word. Its a more typical contemporary jazz trumpet track from my limited experience. The trumpet is lonely and there are electronics amongst the percussion and other bits and pieces supporting the solo melody. Cold soundscape. Precisely what I would have expected before I picked this up I reckon, based on my entry into this particular genre. There is a nice softness to the rhythm, and suitably sparse melodic bits and pieces back there. Not too much to smother the singular horn.
It is that singularity that draws me to this instrument; I am, at heart, quite a lonesome soul. I think I relate to the isolated sounds and strains, the context of the other players being the sea of people we all wade through - sometimes literally, sometimes only figuratively - every day of our lives. Like the lonely trumpet, I feel like I stand outside that sea, separated from others even as they are there and even though without them there would be nothing. Ugh - torturing a metaphor is something I seem to be good at.
Anyhow, a couple more short tunes have flown by whilst I was waffling my self-pity and singular angst; enough of that. Suffice to say that I am feeling a degree of isolation coming through in the tones here, but I would be surprised if I didn't.
Recording Angel may have a very stretched vocal. It's hard to tell, but in places it sounds like snatches of words. This tune is fairly chilling, edgy and stretched. There is a plaintive nature to the horn here and a hopeless one at times, too. The backing reminds me a little of prog rock or ambient music with its long, over-held tones but the effect is very sparse and cold. Cartography is the making of maps; this feels like traversing an unmapped icy wasteland - fraught and unwise.For all that, I really like it. I was at a gig a couple of weeks back and having a conversation with the friend I went with about discomfort in music. Some of the songs played had post-apocalyptic themes, and she found these less appealing because the theme was uncomfortable. Me? I liked them because they were very evocative, painting bleak but vivid pictures. The relevance to this album? She went on to say that's one reason she doesn't like jazz - discomfort about where things were going or what would happen next. I suspect that was meant in relation to more stereotypical (even traditional) jazz with improv and solos aplenty, but I think it applies to this type of bleaker contemporary piece too.
Me, I conjure images to accompany it. Evocation again.
Oh my... shivers. The opening notes on Loved One are so strained it sends convulsions down my nervous system. The horn is so... all over the place here, it is really pushing the limits of discomfort. Screeching. There is a pulsing effect to it too, breath stopping and starting perhaps? It sounds like a dying plea, desperation and despair. Not what I would associate with the track title. This pushes even my ability to appreciate the bleak from start to the point it finishes in what feels like mid-stanza.
I cannot but see trumpet tunes as (mostly) sad soundtracks generally, and this album is doing nothing to dissuade that perception. It is fair to say it is a very dark album, born of sunless Norwegian days, perhaps, and certainly suiting this time of year where light is at a premium. Channeling the cold and ice from without to within through the medium of music, and without giving you literal chills. I cannot necessarily see myself ever listening to this again but man, I am very glad I have given it a proper listen. It is not an easy album, but it is fascinating. Thermal is again a spoken story, and with the title of the final track reminiscent of the opening one, it feels palindromic in nature.
That said, the final track is a mournful melody, but with richer sound - both from the horn and through the addition of some strings and choral elements, so in fact it ends nothing like it begins. All in all... fascinating. So much so that I want to go read what others thought of its mix of discomfort, cold, loneliness and whatever it is that actually made it work. I still can't put my finger on that.
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