Cartography - Arve Henriksen

Track list:

1. Poverty and Its Opposite
2. Before and Afterlife
3. Migration
4. From Birth
5. Ouija
6. Recording Angel
7. Assembly
8. Loved One
9. The Unremarkable Child
10. Famine's Ghost
11. Thermal
12. Sorrow and Its Opposite

Running time: 51 minutes
Released: 2008

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.

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.

Being There - Tord Gustavsen Trio

Track list:

1. At Home
2. Vicar Street
3. Draw Near
4. Blessed Feet
5. Sani
6. Interlude
7. Karmosin
8. Still There
9. Where We Went
10. Cocoon
11. Around You
12. Vesper
13. Wide Open

Running time: 59 minutes
Released: 2007

So I have already confessed an interest in Scandinavian jazz through Esbjörn Svensson Trio - though I did not love 301 much. E.S.T were a gateway which I went through to discover more. Well, I say "discover"; I mean "randomly bought off Amazon and hoped to like".

As you might expect, this approach - and to be fair it is one I have used a lot in different genres over the years - can be a bit hit or miss. I honestly cannot remember which of those categories Gustavsen fell into so I am looking forward to diving into this one and establishing whether this was a master-stroke, a misstep or something in between.

It starts quietly, a solo piano softly opening, a slow lament of a tune, then joined by brushed drums, hints of structure. Bass eventually arrives and the track takes on the form of a jazz piece, albeit a very laid back one. I could lose myself quite happily in the wandering tune though, conjuring pictures of the 40s, black and white of course, whisky in hand. This is a good beginning - despite the potential in this disc, I had to push myself to start the listen; I am running out of days before I go away, and have had a number of things to take up my evenings. A strongly enjoyable opening track then is a shot in the arm to my resolve. It is not a busy piece but it is a very, very nice one. If the whole disc is of the same ilk as At Home then I should think I will listen to this a fair bit more.

Soft sounds seem to be order of the day, nothing overly stated or raising the volume, but Vicar Street has more intent, purpose and pace. Compelling - the percussion and structure more noticeable here, driving the piece along to begin with. Unfortunately the piece loses some of that drive over its length (and it is not a long track) but it is continued encouragement. Most of these pieces are a fairly standard 3.5-6 minutes in length, but there are a couple of surprisingly short numbers listed which promises some interest - a potential shake up.

Piano, bass and drums. It's a good combination and a versatile one. EST, Tord Gustavsen, Ben Folds (Five) and probably more acts in my library that I cannot think of from the top of my head after a long day, a glass of wine and a bleeding impossible episode of Only Connect. What? Don't look at me like that. Just because it crosses out from jazz and ditches the double-bass for an electric bass does not mean that Folds' preferred form is not relevant here. Bottom line, I like piano, and this combination provides all the structure you could want to show it off - whether in laid back Scandinavian jazz or haphazard rocky style. The bass takes the pressure off the pianist, allowing him to concentrate on melody over structure, which makes for both an interesting top end and a solid base over which to show it off.

I am a little disappointed that the first of the two short pieces - which arrive back to back - is not really energetic and changing the overall tone. It's a nice piece, don't get me wrong, but with a slow wandering melody it does not take advantage of its limitations in time. No space to build a theme, a sense of direction; by the time it does it has peaked and is in denouement. Actually the wind down is better than the climb up, and I notice now (blind, me!) that the second short piece is titled Interlude. I could have dashed my own hopes before getting them all up with a bit more attention. Oh well.

The thread of soft - though not distant - sounds is still largely with us. Even when the percussion takes centre stage it is gentle, deadened rather than bright and loud. From the promising start I feel that the album has drifted to a lower ebb. Too slow, too low, too laid back to excite, too relaxed to entice, too mellow to demand more air time. Each piece alone remains nice - well constructed and performed, enjoyable and musical. However they are much of the same ilk, and this is somewhere that I think Svensson was so much stronger in varying tempo, in raising the roof alongside the softer more reflective pieces. For all that I am lamenting the uniformity, Still There is a really gorgeous track. A slow, deliberate trip around one's own living room. It feels intimate, loving, special.

Finally the tempo lifts, and the injection of a little volume stirs me out of reflective stupor. Purpose again - deliberate striving for something, and a darker tone without swamping it with grimness. The difference is the introduction of more bass register keys, conscious wanderings into the left hand's domain, or even just the middle of the keyboard. Where We Went is the outlier that brings definition to everything that came before, providing greater context to what has been and what is to come. Oh, sure, the track slows to a crawl as it concludes, but its job has been done, its race well run, by then. The soaking bucket of active interest emptied over the nodding head that the earlier themes had brought on. The pace does not last into the next track, but the volume remains higher, the sound richer, as the Cocoon is built around me whilst I listen. There are more than shades of Svensson's playing in the latter half of this track for me, but overall the musicianship has been very different from that, emphasising different traits, strengths of the players.

The second half of the disc, then, has had more life than the first; it would be hard to have less and still be enjoyable. There is a stately air about some of it, Vesper in particular. A more measured elegance than the soft sound sculpting of the early tracks. One could also say that it drifts into much more traditional forms as the final track could almost be anyone, a world away from the soft and gentle application on the opener which was like nothing I had heard before. All in all it is a decent disc, although having gone through it in full once I don't think I would want to listen in order again. I did like everything, but I feel it would be better appreciated to sprinkle these in and amongst some livelier fare so I'll keep them with that in mind.