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Soft Machine: John Etheridge (g), Fred T. Baker (b), Theo Travis (ww, keys), Asaf Sirkris (dr)

Nica, Hamburg, Oct 2026

Marta Warelis (p), Sam Pluta (el), Camila Nebbia (ts), Joanna Mattrey (v), Kathrin Pechlof (h), Andro Manzoni (viz)

Schorndorf, Manufaktur, October 2026

Ahmed] أحمد: Pat Thomas (p), Joel Grip (b), Antonin Gerbal (dr), Seymour Wright (as)

Ludwigshafen, Das Haus, October 2026

Monday, October 19, 2026

Gianni Gebbia - Petrichor (objet-a, 2026)

By Ferruccio Martinotti

“To have seen Italy without having seen Sicily is not to have seen Italy at all, for Sicily is the clue to everything”. (J.W. von Goethe)

If there's one artist who embodies the layered, cultured, and restless soul of Sicily, it's Gianni Gebbia. But beware, his musical lexicon is never a regionalist language, but always an extraordinary, challenging, universal Esperanto. Born in Palermo in 1961, he taught himself jazz by gaining experience in numerous Sicilian groups and orchestras and participating in jam sessions with passing American musicians. Like all men from the islands, he couldn't resist the call of the Horizon Line, and in 1980 he moved to New York, where he experienced the "no wave" movement and the last glimmers of the loft scene. During those same years, he attended the legendary University of the Streets on the Lower East Side, directed by saxophonist Muhammad Salahuddeen, before moving to Paris in 1984 to study with Jean-Claude Forenbach and Alan Silva. In 1990, he performed solo at the FMP “Total Music Meeting” in Berlin alongside musicians such as Steve Lacy and Lindsey Cooper, and since 1991, he has collaborated with German percussionist Guenter Baby Sommer and double bassist Peter Kowald, thus reuniting one of the most telluric duos of European free jazz. In 1993 he formed the folk-improv project “Terra Arsa” along with Vittorio Villa and singer Miriam Palma. In recent years, performances have been frequent alongside contemporary and butoh dancers (Masaki Iwana, Tadashi Endo, Antonio Carallo, Julie Stanzak, Yves Musard), poets (Alberto Masala), videomakers (Salvo Cuccia), film and theatre directors (Raul Ruiz, Roberto Andò, Jerome Savary, Guido Chiesa, Vanessa Redgrave, Heiner Goebbels, Aurelien Bory, Stefania Casini, Davide Riondino, Luca Guadagnino, Pina Bausch), visual artists (Toti Garraffa, Nicola Console, Martha Keller, Georgina Starr) and circus artists (Francois Chat, Vera Mormino). The collaborations in the musical field are impressive: Heiner Goebbels, David Moss, Zu, Otomo Yoshihide, Fred Frith, Anatoly Vapirov, Vladimir Tarasov, Jean Marc Montera, Dominique Regef, Louis Sclavis, Pino Minafra, Jim O' Rourke, Lee Ranaldo, Glen Velez, Benoit Delbecq, Noel Akchoté, Antonello Salis, Sergey Kuryokhin, Henri Kaiser, Michel Doneda, Takaoka Daysuke, Shin'ichi Isohata, Reiko Imanishi, Garth Powell, Evan Parker, Francesco Cusa, Domenico Sciajno, Butch Morris, Lukas Ligeti, Elliot Sharp, Shin'ichi Isohata, William Wynant, Satoko Fuji, Dominique Regef, Benoit Delbecq, Lawrence Butch Morris, Wadada Leo Smith, Milford Graves, to name some. Gebbia's ongoing projects in recent years include “Trionacria” alongside Roy Paci on trumpet and Francesco Cusa on drums,“Switters” with Francesco Cusa and Vince Vasi, and “Zen Widow” with Californians Garth Powell and Matt Goodheart. His solo work has continued steadily since 1990. In 2011, he played with Eiko Ishibashi, both in a duo and a trio with bassist Daniele Camarda. In 2013, he formed a new band, “Magnetic Trio”, with which, for his own label “objet-a”, he reinterprets all the compositions created from the 1980s to the present, as a sort of compendium of all his musical experiences. In 2020, he formed the open project "The Fruitful Darkness”, which features Massimo Pupillo and Tony Buck. In 2024, as “The Mayfield” (Heiner Goebbels, Willi Bopp, Cecile Lartigau, Nicolas Perrin, and Camille Emaille), he released an extraordinary album with Intakt Records. In recent years, he has begun studying and using Indian bansuri flutes in his performances, and he cultivates his study of Indian music, having attended courses with the renowned Maestro Hariprasad Chaurasia and his students Debopriya and Suchismita Chatterjee. This interest led to the solo albums “Vapor” and "Calor”, where Gebbia primarily uses the bansuri flute, and the same occurs in Petrichor. Titled with a neologism that combines the Greek words "Petra" (boulder, stone) and "Ichor" (sap), referring to the scent of rain on dry earth, the album unfolds across 11 tracks, all under three minutes, suspended between ambient atmospheres, micro-variations of sound, and sensorial perceptions. The textures of Indian wind instruments and electronics play with Eastern influences without folkloric shortcuts or implausible xerox-effects, but rather through a unique interpretation by someone who has embraced those cultural styles in their soul, even before than in their musical technique. In a single track ("Metabolico"), Gianni returns to the soprano saxophone, while the 11 minutes extended bonus track ("Zazeela") pays homage to Marian Zazeela (April 15, 1940-March 28, 2024), a New York-based artist and musician, member of the experimental music collective "Theater of Eternal Music," known for her collaboration with her husband, composer La Monte Young. For those who dug Shabaka's shakuhachi period but a really great record per se.

Sunday, October 18, 2026

Sunday Video - Simon Rose solo

 Our Sunday video this week offers a beautiful, intimate and well-recorded - both sound and editing - solo performance by British saxophonist Simon Rose, here on baritone. The video lasts only 20 minutes but is a great testimony for Rose's art: captivating, sensitive, explorative, adventurous, physical and as said, also intimate. 

I can only advise readers to check out his albums we reviewed on our blog, starting with Vienna Solo, equally from 2024. 

Performed at Acker Stadt Palast, Berlin. Curated by Volker Meitz, who also managed the sound and the mixing. Video recording: Florian Japp Editing: Per Jörgen Erkius. 

Saturday, October 17, 2026

Signe Emmeluth, Dag Erik Knedal Andersen, and Magnus Skavhaug Nergaard - Live at The All Ears Festival (Sonic Transmissions, 2026)


 
Signe Emmeluth, the alto saxophonist/composer/band leader/new Danish Thing progenitor/and hyperdynamic cosmic dynamo, burns bright in 2026. I have written about the artist’s work on numerous occasions for the Free Jazz Collective, as have my colleagues (if you missed it and you dig Signe, you need to read this review of Emmeluth’s stunning recording with MoE and Ikuro Takahashi by William Rossi).

What more can Emmeluth give us? I mean, it seems every time I communicate with someone about her, superlatives in the realms of incredible, amazing, or even somehow unexpected are thrown about. My reaction to this may be to say that the English language falls short. These adjectives are not only deserved and accurate, but like all words, they absolutely fail to relay what makes her so special. In 2026 alone Signe has appeared on at least three albums I think may be the album of the year (I have in mind We Vote Force Majeure by Hyper Elastic Jinx, With Love by the Amoeba, and the aforementioned Live at Børsen Kulturhus with MoE and Ikuro Takahashi). She has appeared on numerous other works this year, and will appear on yet another recording with guitarist Karl Borja this coming October. And the range of these recordings is just as sweeping: experimental music versions of compositional suite, punk rock, and new age folk.

On this new release with bassist Magnus Skavhaug Nergaard and drummer/percussionist Dag Erik Knedal Andersen, Emmeluth finds herself this time in a pure free jazz context. What I mean by this is Live at All Ears documents three musicians playing with no prior plan. This is a live set including only one 37 minute take consisting essentially of two tracks. The three allow the music to develop organically in the moment through deep listening, inventive contributions, and intuitive communal connections. 
 
The first of the two works presented here does the bulk of the heavy lifting. Running over 27 minutes, this piece demonstrates all of what these three make function so well. The work opens quietly, with Signe tonguing and repeating an impromptu motif built around a single bent, squeaky note. Knedal Andersen soon enters with bells and overtones from cymbals bowed with sticks. Skavhaug Nergaard simultaneously begins to pluck harmonics on his bass in the album’s first display of a kind of spontaneous communication that appears to fall somewhere between a magic trick and instrumental mastery. The reality, of course, is the three from the outset display the kind of intuitive connection one finds only in the very best moments of free improvisation. 
 
Each musician continues to provide momentum by contributing new developments or by responding to a contribution by another member. Moments like those around the 4:25 or 19:30 marks allow the listener to realize it is fruitless to determine who is the leader and who is the follower on this date as the musicians operate as one collective body of sound. As I listened to this piece, I found myself surprised again and again at how many times I could not figure out whether certain sounds were being created by the drum kit, the double bass, or the alto saxophone. These, after all, are pretty different sounding instruments. Somehow, nonetheless, moments like those around 6:00 or 8:40 provide a wonderful blending and confusion of sonic voices. 
 
The second work runs much shorter at around eight and a half minutes in length. This piece features a prickly start-and-stop collective improvisatory approach, and one of the highlights for me is the theme Emmeluth conjures into being. I do not know if Signe does so intentionally, but the leitmotif here is a melodic fragment used at times by Peter Brötzmann throughout his career. Shortly after Peter’s passing, I remember feeling deeply moved by the posthumous release of Chicken Shit Bingo with the saxophone giant and drummer Paal Nilssen-Love. The theme one hears throughout the second work on Live at All Ears is similar to that played by Peter in “Smuddy Water” on that record.

Emmeluth, Knedal Andersen, and Skavhaug Nergaard manifest interplay and equity for listeners on this Sonic Transmissions release. Exploration, vulnerability, and adventure occupy equally important roles performed with spontaneity and unity. And, if you care to hear what humans sound like at their best when they get together, work together, and create together, I highly recommend giving At All Ears a listen. 
 
Live at the All Ears Festival can be listened to here:

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Friday, October 16, 2026

Rodrigo Amado & David Maranha - Desolation Row (European Echoes, 2026)

By Paul Acquaro

It’s a slow burn and one that is quickly alight. From the opening moments of the album through its mid-way wanderings to its tense, and then suddenly gentle closing bars, we hear a consistent lightly dissonant thrum from David Maranha colorful electric organ and the eviscerating emotional tones of Rodrigo Amado’s tenor sax. One could easily slap the label spiritual jazz to this music as it truly seems to climb up from somewhere deep within both musicians, but there is more to it than that. 
 
Over the course of 41 minutes, the one uninterrupted track of Desolation Row throbs and pulsates with an urgency that is palpable. Throughout, Maranha lays down a harmonic wave pool that flows and rolls with unrelenting, but calm, ferocity. For Amado, he does the opposite, his melodic ideas sail over these boiling waters with a confidence and focused energy, only once or twice going so far as to sonically abuse the instrument’s mechanics. It's quite easy to form a mental image of Amado’s veins pulsating as he pushes his instrument to its melodic limits.
 
Recorded live at the OUT.FEST in the outskirts of Lisbon in October 2025, Desolation Row follows the duo’s well-received Wrecks released the year before. Looking across both titles, one can hear, aside from the titular reference to Bob Dylan’s surreal masterpiece from 1965’s Highway 65 Revisited, which surveyed the cultural and political landscapes of its times with a prematurely cynical eye, an allusion, or acknowledgement, of decay. The music across both of this duo's albums is indeed foreboding and laced with a discernible disquiet — fitting for our current times. This is where the aforementioned spirituality meets current events, surveying and synthesizing the turmoil in the world and channeling it into something terrifying and lovely.
 
There is, however, more sense of hope on Desolation Row than on Wrecks. While Amado is still explosive, he has a slightly lighter melodic touch here. Similarly with Maranha, his organ playing is a little less abrasive and sharp edged. I was happy to survive Wrecks and I’ve come back multiple times to Desolation Row. You should too.
 

Thursday, October 15, 2026

Jon Raskin - Live at Celeste (self-released, 2026)

By Hrayr Attarian

Saxophonist Jon Raskin is a restlessly innovative improviser who excels in the company of like-minded musicians. His discography is rich in collaborative and spontaneously created works that show seamless camaraderie. Live at Celesteis one such example. Celeste is a Vienna venue that hosts improvisation sessions on Monday nights, a series that bass clarinetist Susanna Garmayer curates. On November 4th, 2024, Raskin, with frequent collaborator Thomas Lehn on synthesizers and bassist Matija Schellander, performed a single 31-minute multilayered piece that is vibrant, intriguing, and hypnotic .

“Sounds of the Wienfluss” starts with angular ensemble exchanges. Raskin’s agile alto saxophone forges a serpentine path within Schellander’s bowed phrases. Lehn contributes sound effects that underscore the dramatic ambiance. The mood is quite contemplative throughout, even though the group conversation ebbs and flows from fiery and riotous to quiet and somber. Raskin blows gentle, flittering notes, as Lehn peppers the music with clear, resonant chimes. Matija adds an organic quality to the interplay with dark, dense lines that delightfully contrast with Lehn’s otherworldly tones. Raskin’s alto alternates between urgent and acerbic melodies to solemn, crystalline refrains depending on the atmosphere his bandmates create.

A third of the way in, Schellander’s percussive bass ushers in an expectant undercurrent. Lehn responds with tense synth vamps. As Raskin returns with an elegant and passionate solo, the tune takes on an otherworldly quality with a touch of angst. Lehn brings subtle theatricality to the collective conversation, while Schellander contributes dark lyricism. Both perfectly complement Raskin’s forlorn saxophone lines. The result is wistful and introspective with a touch of mysticism. Slowly, as this stimulating and emotive three-way stream of consciousness comes to closure the trio members align their individual extemporizations with one another. Thus, the conclusion is haunting and provocative.

Live at Celeste is a brilliant and poetic recording. Raskin, Lehn, and Schellander demonstrate sublime synergy and share an innovative spirit. The result is a satisfying listening experience, one that stays memorable. even after the album itself has stopped playing.

Tuesday, October 13, 2026

The return of diatribes: Part II

By Nick Ostrum

diatribes, the long-standing house duo of Insub Records, had been on hiatus while percussionist Cyril Bondi and electronicist d’incise pursued other projects, sometimes together, sometimes apart. That hiatus has ended, at least for now. This year, 2026, has gifted us four realizations of a single score, L’apport (French for “the contribution”), each featuring the diatribes core in collaboration with a different musician (or in the sole case of Sound the alarm, a team of five) to round out a third rotating seat.

diatribes and Stefan Thut - L'apport : Lâ dèchigeâ (Insub, 2026) 

Composer and cellist Stefan Thut has collaborated with d’incise and Bondi in the Insub.8tet (many of whose members appear on the 7tet release featured below), but, as far as I can tell, never just with the diatribes duo. Recorded in situ in the Wallis Mountains of Switzerland, this realization of L’apport comes across as a cross section of Thut’s minimalism (coupled with short references to Swiss folk songs), d’incise and Bondi’s forays into field-recorded environmental improvisation (see their Polytopies project), and all three’s long-standing fascination with long-tones. Bird chirps introduce Lâ dèchigeâ and abound throughout. With Bondi now on shruti box and d’incise on objects and laptop, the ambient bird, breeze, and other nature sounds provide the underlying soundtrack with which the trio interacts. Maybe by default of volume, Thut stands out the most with his intermittent legato drawls over the textures laid by the nature sounds and diatribes’s soft incidental contributions. A fine, divergent complement to the other performances released here and recommended especially to those drawn toward hyper-minimalism and musical interventions into nature sounds.


Insub.7tet - L'apport : Sound the alarm (Insub, 2026) 

L’apport: Sound the alarm is the outlier in this project, as it expands the diatribes +1 core to a full seven. In addition to d’incise and Bondi, the group is rounded out by two vocalists, Antoine Läng and Natalie Peters, violinist Anouck Genthon, and reedists Christophe Verthet and Esther Vaucher, respectively on soprano and tenor. Because of the size of the group, one might be tempted to assume Sound the alarm is the apex of the project. However, I am not sure that this realization is any more complete than the others. L’apport is that open.

This final installment unfolds as slowly as the others, but with more elements and a more frequent trade-off between them. Läng and Peters voices add a human dimension and, following the dedication, a sense of urgency as they intermingle with, supplant, and yield to the various instruments that calmly vie for space. The resulting sense of calm is disquieting rather than comforting. One gets the sense of drowning, or the dolorous moans of those present and past contending to be heard among a series of other soft ribbons of sound and muted alarm pulses about 13 minutes and the more forceful soundings starting 26 minutes in. Sound the alarm, indeed. Let us hope there are ears open enough to hear.

NB: All proceeds from purchases of L’apport: Lâ dèchigeâ will benefit the Ghasan Abu Sita children’s fund.

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Read part 1 here 

Monday, October 12, 2026

The return of diatribes: Part I

diatribes, the long-standing house duo of Insub Records, had been on hiatus while percussionist Cyril Bondi and electronicist d’incise pursued other projects, sometimes together, sometimes apart. That hiatus has ended, at least for now. This year, 2026, has gifted us four realizations of a single score, L’apport (French for “the contribution”), each featuring the diatribes core in collaboration with a different musician (or in the lone case of Sound the alarm, a team of five) to round out a third rotating seat.

diatribes and Jean-Luc Guionnet - L'apport : An awkward position (insub, 2026) 

Jean-Luc Guionnet is one of the most uncompromising saxophonists around. He plays maximalist, and he plays minimalist. He also produces electro-acoustic sound art, more in the latter vein than the former, which give him the ears and unique set of chops to deal with the current understated incarnation of diatribes. The title, L’apport: An awkward position, is likely meant with some irony. No member’s contribution is awkward, nor does any seem to throw the others for an unwieldy loop. This is slowly churning, meticulously constructed granular music. Gone are the beats of d’incise’s early days. This is abstract music conducted in real-time at the molecular level. Turn the headphones up and indulge in the beautifully rendered textures, punctuated periodically by a few choice honks, squawks, flutters, and clucks from a deeply attuned Guionnet. This is certainly among the the spikiest and most active of the L’apport series.



diatribes and Clara Levy - L'apport : Ke ya me transí (insub, 2026)

Ke ya me transí (Sesotho for I’m taking the train) features diatribes with violinist Clara Levy. It is a slow, cumulative affair. Unlike An awkward position, this realization is based on drones, including Bondi’s methodical exploration of a vibraphone. Images of the hum of bees on a sultry day, sunlight refracted through a wispy fog, its counterpart in the tentative excavation of a hazy memory flit by. Six minutes in, the drama thickens in a pulsing marcato run, and from there the piece departs on a heavier expanse of long tones over various rings, rattles, and other sounds. Out of this sonic brume, Levy periodically engages in passages of melodies that play both with medieval Sephardic scales (as the notes indicate) and remind me of Johnny Chang and other contemporary lowercase violinists, who blend quiet, amelodic structures with strained classical and folk motifs. Fifteen minutes in, the repeating notes mark a break, then a heavier atmosphere, again returning to a series of vying long tones. (This type of break repeats periodically throughout the single track.) A wonderful and deeply introspective album, and a consummate example of what the chamber music tradition still has offer when cambered through the right lens.



diatribes and Lise Barkas - L'Apport : Apprendre la manière (Insub, 2026) 

The third installment in the series invites Lise Barkas’s bagpipes and hurdy gurdy to the crew. The result is a unique blend of the contemporary – long tones, false starts and stops, the elevation of the experiment over some consummative realization, electronics – early bardic traditions – Barkas’ contributions and the interaction between a single measure leitmotif and a thudding bass drum. In its circular ritualism, this resembles d’incise and Bondi’s recent work in their La Tène trio. For her part, Barkas helps pull the music from the dance hall inclinations of that project to sprightlier, if also halting, terrain. The irregular beats are more conducive to prancing around a dance-fire than bobbing around some warped chthonic club. The edges are frayed. The contours are ruffled and twisted. The abrupt stops can be distracting at times in the first realization, but are often deployed to great effect, especially in the glitchier passages and the more robust second one.


Sunday, October 11, 2026

Reza Askari Roar Quintet - Maining Suite part 3

Recorded at the Kammermusiksaal Deutschlandfunk in Cologne, the piece from bassist and composer Reza Askari features Lina Allemano (trumpet), Stefan Karl Schmid (tenor sax), Christopher Dell (vibraphone), Fabian Arends (drums) and Askari. According to the composer, the composition forms the third part of his Maining Suite and is dedicated to pianist and composer Felix Hauptmann. It revisits and reshapes several motives from Maining Part Two—first documented on the 2022 album Roar feat. Christopher Dell—while introducing a new motive that will evolve further in future installments of the suite.


Also, seenEyal Hareuveni's review of xAYb v8v dYAx (Boomslang, 2026).

Saturday, October 10, 2026

Ed Hazell - ENERGY CENTER, A history of Studio Rivbea (NoBusiness Records, 2026)


By Ferruccio Martinotti

Paris in the 1920s, with Picasso, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Gide and Gertrude Stein sitting at the Shakespeare & Co.; the Bauhaus with Oskar Schlemmer's theater and the themed parties; the boppers at Minton's Playhouse on 118th Street; the CBGB's in 1976. In a word: The Scene. Is anyone indifferent to its call? Certainly not us. In many cases, it arises from the suggestions of historians, journalists, and/or enthusiasts who shape it “ex post”, but who cares? Thinking of a group of people, in a specific historical and social context, sharing a common cultural sentiment, simply generates unparalleled fascination. Just a few years before the explosion of the punk supernova of the Ramones, Television, and Patti Smith, around the same geographic perimeter (Village, Lower East Side, Soho), seismographs recorded a new artistic ferment. Inspired by the AACM in Chicago and the Black Artists Group in St. Louis, a group of musicians, writers, and actors repurposed abandoned spaces such as lofts, warehouses and industrial buildings into creative hubs in which to live, play, record, teach, discuss: Loft Jazz was born. Wise Old Man Wadada Leo Smith summarized it this way: “There's the mainstream, and you're not part of it, so you have to build your own reality. And that reality is not a protest against, but something for ourselves.” 

There are two main hotspots: the hottest is Studio Rivbea at 24 Bond St., where Sam Rivers lives with his wife, Bea; then Ali's Alley at 77 Greene St., Rashid Ali's home, club, recording studio, and headquarters of his Survival Records. Contributing to the cause are James DuBois and Juma Sultan with Studio We; Warren Smith with Studio WIS; David Murray and Stanley Crouch with Studio Infinity; the theater/music space La MaMa and The Soundscape. Without predefined aesthetics or boundaries of any kind, the rules of engagement are crystal clear: Community and Freedom. This extraordinary bonfire of creativity spanned almost the entire 1970s, extinguishing in 1979. For those who didn't experience it firsthand, the reference bible has always been the five Wildflowers albums recorded at Rivbea in 10 days in May 1976, featuring all the key players. The records have become difficult to find, even in the 3-CD version, but don't despair, because in Lithuania, NoBusiness Records' mission is to soothe our regrets and to grant our wishes. And they do so with Loft Jazz as well. First and foremost, with the 2009 box set "Muntu Recordings," celebrating saxophonist Jemeel Moondoc, then with the “Rivbea Live” series by Oliver Lake, Jimmy Lyons, Arthur Blythe, and Maurice McIntyre, recorded at Rivbea, which take us back to Downtown, allowing us to relive the magic of that extraordinary season. Four unmissable albums, period. 

From a chronicles perspective, to date, the only one who has dealt with that scene is Michael Heller with “Loft Jazz: Improvising New York in the 1970s.” As an ethnomusician, Heller focuses his analysis on the economic, social, and urban aspects of early 1970s New York, crucial to generating the breeding ground without which the scene would never have taken shape. We said “to date”, because NoBusiness Records draw a line, putting an end to the topic, now and ever. It does so with Ed Hazell, a Boston musicologist and curator of Sam Rivers' musical legacy, who, with "Energy Center," provides us with the ultimate book on the Loft movement and its epicenter, Studio Rivbea. 

The work is divided into two parts that represent the axes along which the author's exegesis moves. The first 100 pages lead us to the Loft through the personal and musical journey of Sam Rivers and his wife Beatrice, whose centrality to the story comes finally to light in all its entirety. If you think you already know everything about the subject, our humble advice is to not skip a single line; we're sure you’ll find something worth reading. The next 200 pages are the book's cornerstone and hallmark: the sessionography. A mind-blowing session history, detailed by date and musicians, will satisfy even the most compulsive completist, providing the reader with vivid evidence of what an incredible musical powerhouse Rivbea was. The list of recordings released at the Studio completes such a philological, gigantic labor of love. A word more about the iconographic content. The photographs, many previously unpublished, are astonishing and, in their timeless, b&w beauty, confirm, once more, how much jazz owes to photography and vice versa. Still not enough? Then take a look at the reproductions of dozens and dozens of ads, brochures, and flyers related to Rivbea's activities: a golden cornucopia that will bring tears to your eyes. Could you ask for more from a book? Honestly, NO. File under: Holy Grail. 

Order from NoBusiness' website.

or here...

Friday, October 9, 2026

Masayo Koketsu & Nava Dunkelman - Veins of Rain (Relative Pitch, 2026)

By Richard Blute

““Ain’t nobody coming?” [Ali] said to Coltrane.

“No, it’s just you and me.”

“What are we playing? Is it fast? Is it slow?”

“Whatever you want it to be. Come on. I’m going to ring some bells.””

-Quoted by Ben Ratliff in Coltrane: The Story of a Sound.

John Coltrane’s sax-drums duo album with Rashied Ali, Interstellar Space, stands as a singular achievement in the history of free jazz. The duo’s restlessness, their commitment to musical exploration and the profound communication taking place between them would create a template that has animated the practice of free jazz to this day.

Stef Gijssels, in his 2007 post on this website, wrote the following about that combination of instruments:

“[It] offers a total freedom of interaction, but it's like poetry without rhyme, there is no comfort zone to fall back into, no safe haven, no safety net, it's swim or drown.”

I think any jazz musicians wanting to tackle the drums/sax duo format must be very brave indeed, knowing that a comparison to Interstellar Space is almost inevitable. But they would also realize the freedom of unfettered expression that comes with it. And great musicians would view that as an opportunity to create something new, to engage in a genuinely novel musical conversation. Best of all, we get to eavesdrop on that conversation.

I’ll always click on a drum/sax duo when I come across one on bandcamp. But I was especially happy to see this particular combo as I was familiar with both musicians and had very much appreciated earlier work of theirs. Both were in a trio album with Tim Berne, Poiēsis, one of the best albums of 2025. Drummer, percussionist Nava Dunkelman was also in a tremendous duo with violinist gabby fluke-mogul, titled Likht.Saxophonist Masayo Koketsu has a solo album, entirely on alto, called Ballade in which she plays jazz standards. She even covers Lover Man. (Seriously, I discovered this album in the course of writing this review and it’s exceptional. Do check it out.)

The first track here, 初雷–hatsurai, begins with a thunderburst from Koketsu. Dunkelman matches her intensity. Google Translate tells me the title means First Thunder. Yup. I’ve listened to this album a bunch of times now and it still snaps my head back. These musicians are serious and they want your attention. Both musicians genuinely bring thunder on this track.

There’s so much good music on this album, and what’s most impressive is the great variety of ideas to be found. The third track, 露の玉–tsuyu no tama, meaning Dewdrop Ball, is beautiful. Koketsu begins with lightning quick shards of notes with Dunkelman responding with bells. A reference to Interstellar Space? Then there’s a brief bit of Ayler and then the musicians are off to explore more new ideas.

The final and longest track 夕霧–yūgiri, meaning Evening Mist, is the best. It begins with plaintive playing from the saxophone with very light percussion. Then Koketsu’s playing gains in intensity and her lines become more complex. Dunkelman happily matches her and then takes over. Now she’s bringing the thunder and Koketsu again responds. Here, and throughout the album, these two musicians seem so in tune it’s a delight to listen to.

Possibly the most surprising thing about this album is the first sentence of the liner notes:

“Masayo Koketsu and Nava Dunkelman met for the first time in this studio session.”