Moers Lets Down its Hair (Moers Festival 2026)

By Paul Acquaro

Once upon a time, in a land where melodies did not necessarily neatly resolve, there lived a jazz festival known far and wide. Its name traveled on the wind, whispered across oceans, appearing on record sleeves on shelves from Frankfurt to Philadelphia. Many a listener kept treasured vinyl marked with its crest—perhaps a spellbinding Evan Parker incantation, or a tale spun by John Carter.

 

But one day, as festivals sometimes do when the moon hangs just right, this venerable gathering felt a stirring—a curious, mischievous idea fluttering at its edges. It wondered what might happen if it dared to dream a little differently…

 

Having spread its wings and expanded its scope, the Moers festival has grown from its avant-garde roots into something much larger. Weaving in modern jazz, new music, poetry, political discourse and more, the theme this year was fairy tales, which the printed program whimsically presented in its surreal prose and thematic illustrations, a densely packed long holiday weekend. The festival unfurled through the old city of Moers — the castle courtyard, the main parking lot and the city park — offering lots to discover and more than one way to enjoy the festivities.

 

To some, it might have seemed chaotic. To others, perhaps a city festival with lots of food trucks and stands to buy hippie-jewelry and dashikis. And to yet others, it was a rich, off-beat intersection of musical styles, offering unexpected encounters and discoveries. None of these categories are mutually exclusive, so one could also mix and match, being equally bewitched, bothered and bewildered.

 

***

Moon over the Moers Castle with Rapunzel's escape plan in view

In a cute nod to the fairy tale theme, Rapunzel's long hair hung from the castle's tower, and to its left was the entrance to the courtyard. This was where the festival had begun, 54 years ago, inside the castle walls, before it first moved into the city park and then further out to the city's recreation fields. Today, sitting in the blazing sun of the bright blue late afternoon was drummer Chris Corsano's drum kit, and if you hadn't arrived a half-hour (or more) early, there was not chance to get a shady spot. 

Chris Corsano

Corsano began by blowing into a clarinet mouthpiece that vibrated a drum head. He proceeded into the half-hour set that was both rhythmic and melodic, as far as melody goes on the drums. It was a thoroughly engaging improvisation, drawing the listener in close.

  

Outside the castle, a mere stones throw away, across the packed market place, was the main stage, where trumpeter and composer Nate Wooley, along with the new music group Yarn/Wire (pianists Laura Barger and Julia Den Boer, and percussionists Russell Greenberg and Dustin Donahue) and vocalist Tara Khozein were set to play. Here, the erudite trumpeter was presenting a newly commissioned piece that mixed narrative with modern classical. Long, dramatic passages brought together Scottish author Nan Shepard's mystical stories to the stage and quiet interactions between the musicians provided a charged atmosphere. The two grand pianos framed the music with light, dissonant chords while Wooley's tender passages were adorned with soft whispers and audible breaths. Mostly melancholic, the piece was punctuated by intense crescendoing passages. A brainy set, for sure.

 

Skylar Tang and Luis Lopes

Ready for a little more free improvisation, the Moers Sessions were calling. So, back through the market and past Rapunzel's locks, to "Wo die wilden Frösche klatschen" (Translation: Where the Wild Frogs Clap) stage area, nestled in a tree-lined grove in the park. Curated by saxophonist Jan Klare, various sessions throughout the festival brought together musicians appearing elsewhere at the festival in new formations and an improvised setting. This evening began with saxophonist Mia Dyberg in dialog with pianist William Schwartzman and drummer Jonathan Schierhorn. Melodic and probing, the tentative trio locked into a groove about half-way into their set, bringing the listeners along an explorative journey. Next up was the assemblage of bassist John Murray, trumpeter Skylar Tang, drummer Sofia Borges, pianist Rieko Okuda and guitarist Luis Lopes. The group seemed split, while Lopes, Borges and Okuda seemed comfortable skirting around an identifiable tonal center, Tang sounded a bit resistant to let it go. The audience did not seem to mind, Lopes' clashing guitar and Tang's attempt at tonalism generated ample, enthusiastic applause.

***

In the Zwergengasse

The city of Moers itself is an eclectic mix of sights. At the intersection of the aforementioned lush city park and old town, featuring the city's castle (or what remains of it), there is a collection of historic churches and buildings, one of which is a picturesque 18th century neo-Renaissance "Altes Landratsamt" (which translates to the rather uninspiring: Old County Administration Building). Then, if one wanders a little further, into the Fussgaengerzone (pedestrian zone), they will pass the old city mansion, the Peschkenhaus (which we'll come back to later) and then just a bit further, the sweetly curious Zwergengasse (The delightfully translated: Dwarves Alley). The latter is a narrow, colorful alley way featuring a house dating from the 1920's adorned with charming carvings - worth a trip if you happen to already be in town.

 

Ches Smith

Back to the festival: Saturday's adventure begins again at the castle courtyard, this time for percussionist Ches Smith's solo set. It starts with a crash, Smith going at his drum kit full throttle. Flanked by glockenspiel and timpani drums, it was obviously just the opening salvo. The chimes soon came into focus, stark in contrast to the drumming but one could still sense more was still to come! The action then shifted towards the timpani, and playing with expanding and contracting tension, Smith pulled unusual sounds from the instruments around him. At times exploratory and other times hard hitting, the set was another early highlight of the festival.

 

Returning to the full courtyard after a little wander around the festival grounds to find some dinner, it was time for some high-energy music. After a quick count-off and delivering the head of the first tune, saxophonist Angelica Neiscer was deep into a scorching solo. Her counterparts, cellist Tomeka Reid and drummer Eliza Salem were in cahoots as the cellist played a vibrant bass line and the drummer provided a propulsive tempo. It was a classic piano-less jazz trio, energetic, and though not free-jazz per-se, there was generous freedom within the charts. Case in point: Reid's freak-out solo during the second piece that threw anything written into the metaphorical wind (a little real wind would have been nice, it was hot!).

 

Bonbon Flamme

An exquisite chaos was already underway on the main stage as Bonbon Flamme's mash-up of cabaret, half-remembered melodies from a black-out night, old-time jazz riffs and skronk guitar filled the air. The audience was enrapt as Cellist Valentin Ceccaldi, keyboardist Fulco Ottervanger, drummer Etienne Ziemniak and guitarist Luis Lopes achieved a new level of musical abandon. As a French chanson segued into prog rock via a wheezy pipe-organ, the cello played a bass-line that triggered an explosive solo from Lopes. As they played, the keyboardist could be seen leaping acrobatically between his many instruments and all of the action on stage was being projected to a giant iPhone screen hanging from a crane to the back left of the audience area. It was a colossal structure with a mix of live and pre-recorded videos playing throughout the performances.

 

 

Evi Fillipou's "inEvitable"

Every year at the festival there is an artist-in-residence and this year it was vibraphonist Evi Fillipou, who for the festival assembled an extended version of her ongoing "inEvitable" project. In addition to the ineffable Fillipou on vibes, percussion and singing, this was singer Zuza Jasinska, guitarists Keisuke Matsuno and Arne Braun, bassist Robert Lucaciu, drummers Marius Wankel and Jim Hart, and saxophonist Daniel Glatzel. They kicked off the set with a strikingly rhythmic piece, accentuated with rave-up vocals and crashing waves of percussion, perhaps better said, they projected a party vibe. Drawing from a panapoly of musical styles, the music shifted from lithe scatting in Greek to smokey vocal jazz to heavy rock grooves. In addition to the prominent percussion, Matsuno and Braun's guitar work brought a wide sonic palette to the stage, painting a soundscape with distorted smears and blistering jabs. High octane, tight and effervescent, it was a show surely worthy of the artist-in-residence title.

 

***

 

In the city park are a thousand baby bunnies. Every 20 minute walk from the hotel to the festival grounds along the creek and fields was a stroll through a menagerie of cuteness accompanied by a symphony of frogs, kind of a fairy-tale ready experience itself.

 

Evi Fillipou, Tomeka Reid, Luis Lopes, Angelia Niescier.  Photo by Dennis Hoeren 

Mid-morning Sunday in the castle courtyard, the next Moers Session was starting - this time, three sets. The first grouping was Evi Fillipou fresh off the previous night's success, along with Angelika Niescier, Luis Lopes and Tomeka Reid. Niescier started things off with a free-jazz blast from her saxophone, which was followed by some hovering tones from Fillipous' vibraphone. Angular jabs from Lopes' guitar and low-register strikes from Reid's cello responded in kind. It was a strong 25-minute warm up, and though short, it was unrushed, unfolding with collective purpose. The next grouping was comprised of Jonathan Schierhorn on drums, Sophie Cooper on trombone, Bella Comsom on electronics and Hyunjeong Park on gayageum. Their set began with a gentle thrum of electronics supporting the deep, round tones of the gayageum, a Korean zither. Then, following the entry of the drums and trombone, the group gelled expressively. The final set featured session organizer Jan Klare on sax, Fulco Ottervanger on keyboards, Florence Christman on electronics and Bruna Cabral on drums. Klare set the direction: a series of syncopated lines augmented by Cabral's percussion. Then came an underlying buzz from the electronics while a dark organ sound welled from the keyboards. The set soon took gathered momentum as the sax, drums and keys locked into a flowing, effusive groove. Extroverted Ottervanger injected some gentle humor into the set, dueting with Klare on a harmonium at one point and adding a sci-fi synthesizer interlude. 

 

The morning stretched out into the afternoon, lunches were eaten, music absorbed, and acquaintances old and new encountered. Then, under the late afternoon sun, the Dwarves of East Aguza took the main stage. The crowd was slowly filtering in as they began a steady brooding groove. Guitarist Sam Shalabi played a mix of rhythm and brittle, agitated melodic phrases. A beguiling mix of primitivism and middle eastern flair, it locked in with Maurice Louca's electronic pulsations perfectly. At this point, Alan Bishop's guitar merged sonically with the electronics. He soon switched to saxophone and over the mutating oscillations, he smeared notes and phrases across the musical canvas. Through the mix of exotic rhythms and droning tones, the music flowed hypnotically.

 

Between the Dwarves and the next set, a volunteer 'moersfriends' tried asking for donations from the main stage, however his pitch was drowned out by a relentless noise. Throughout the festival, from the sound system surrounding the stage, recordings of different Trump speeches played simultaneously. It was the Bösewicht (German for villain) that the hero of every fairly tale encounters. All part and parcel of the theme, it was a clever but rather disturbing reminder of the raging real world. As the break continued, paper crowns decorated by local school children were handed out to the audience so everyone could be king (or queen) for one day.

 

Nicole Mitchell’s Black Earth SWAY

Nicole Mitchell’s Black Earth SWAY offered a diversion. The group with Mitchell on flute and vocals, Coco Elysses on didley bow and vocals, JoVia Armstrong on percussion and vocals, and Zahili Gonzalez Zamora on keys (everyone also had a touch of electronics) had been formed around the concept of Afro-Folk-Futurism and their first song strove to build a confessional intimacy with the audience. Spoken words about neurodivergence were augmented by thrilling flute work and driving percussion. The group's second song already offered a sing-along part, bringing the crowd and band even closer together.

 

As the late afternoon slid slowly into dusk, it was almost time for the "Secret Concert". Migrating through the city park, past the frolicking baby bunnies and croaking frogs, early ticket buyers and other Moers friends made their way to the event hall in the recreation area, where the previous year's main concerts had been staged. There, a group conceived by Nate Wooley with percussionists Chris Corsano and Ches Smith as an 'anything goes' improvising trio, were set to perform.

 

Ches Smith, Nate Wooley, Chris Corsano. Photo by Dennis Hoeren

Wooley was welcomed to the stage by the crowd singing a happy birthday tune, but was eager go get into the set. His opening electronic tones set an atmospheric buzz. The two drummers then added an extra charge of energy. Smith soon activated his own electronics, bringing the opening fanfare to an early peak. A new tune began to then emerge, a gentle, folksy melody from the trumpet supported by percussion from Corsano. As the intensity increased, Wooley used his trumpet to create the sounds of gale winds as Corsano added the wail of whales though his own inventive, acoustic means. It was an expressive and impressive set, a real aural treat.

 

Gellért Szabó's Ideal Orchestra

On the trip back to the main festival grounds, the sun had set, and as a stillness covered the lush park, the frogs were in full song. At the main stage, the evening was wrapping up with Gellért Szabó's Ideal Orchestra, a large ensemble out of Leipzig who were performing the final installment of a piece developed as a three part fairy-tale (the other parts had been performed on the previous days). Combining improvisation, jazz, classical, a choir, and the multimedia of the giant iPhone screen, the sonically dramatic final installment brought contrasting passages of calm and turbulence with an intentional and slightly tongue-in-cheek holiness to the stage. An informal survey revealed it to be an unexpected highlight for many of the concert goers.

 

As the evening bled into the night, throughout the festival grounds and nearby churches, a tribute to 20th-century avant-garde composer Morton Feldman was just starting up. Stretching into the late evening hours, the festival commemorated the composer's 100th birthday with several performances of his well-known works, such as "Rothko Chapel" and "Melancholie des Verschwindens." A gentle coda to the day.

 

***

 

The final day of the festival began with a crushing line at the Peschkenhaus. A hot sun made the line to get in and the performance space a stifling experience. Why the wait? In the attic room of the stately 18th century manor, now a meeting space and art gallery, guitarist/oudist Gordon Grdina was set to perform with drummer Christian Lillinger and keyboardist Elias Stemeseder.

Christian Lillinger, Gordon Grdina, Elias Stemeseder

Grdina began the show on a well work electro-acoustic guitar along with taps and thwaks from Lillinger, and blips and bloops from Stemeseder. This was merely an intro to a very rhythmic improvisation that snow-balled as the textural guitar work and burbling synthesizer, pushed along by the precise percussive jabs, found their footing. For a heart-pounding ten minutes, the group pressed at full speed until a break in the tension, during which Grdina switched to the oud. The large stringed instrument projected a thumping bass sound, setting the group off in a fresh new direction. The set ended with Lillinger and Stemeseder both navigating the deep space of electronics. 

 

Sam Shalabi

A compelling solo guitar set from Sam Shalabi followed. Exploring the instrument through arpeggiated, microtonal blocks of sound and lite distortion, the Dwarves of East Aguza guitarist conjured images of specious desert landscapes with wisps of dry wind blowing swirls of sand. The notes themselves seemed less important than the mood they set. 

 

Drifting out into the heat of the early afternoon, the shady Wo die wilden Frösche klatschen stage was the next destination to catch the end of percussionist/composer Bex Burch's set. Angelika Niescier was wrapping up another fiery solo as the group segued into a gentle, unfolding piece with the band acting mainly as a choir. Long minimal interludes led to moments of feverish saxophone and, for a brief moment, it felt good to let a little time slip by in the afternoon humidity.

 

Knobil

Swiss bassist and singer Knobil was another fine discovery of the festival. A mix of singer-songwriter and a swinging free improvisation, Louise Knobil, along with the engrossing bass clarinet work of Chloé Marsigny and drumming of Vincent Andreae, played a compelling set on the main stage. Between sweet banter and wonderfully syncopated melodic songs, Knobil was a welcome late afternoon refresher.

Gordon Grdina's RU'YA

In the early evening, Gordon Grdina's RU'YA, his headlining project, took the stage. With Grdina on guitar and oud, the group featured vocalist Ghalia Benali, violinist Eylem Basaldi, keyboardist Elias Stemeseder, percussionist Hamin Honari and drummer Christian Lillinger. The group's project had begun as a commission for Berlin's Boulez Saal, a center for contemporary classical and Middle Eastern music, and seems to have taken on a life of its own. A mix of passionate, evocative music, the lyrics in Arabic expressed messages of family, loss, hope and peace against a backdrop of Arabic and Western instrumentation. The insistence of Lillinger's drumming, the deep vibrations of Grdina's oud and the intense rhythmic playing from Honari, along with the vibrant violin and keyboards made for lively, urgent music. An exciting and engaging show.

 

As the closing act for the festival, saxophonist Lakecia Benjamin brought a spirited energy that fit well into the overall eclectic-ness of the program. Her act, with a strong mix of showmanship and musicianship, can and did transcend audiences. 

 

Lakecia Benjamin

Decked out in a stylish, shiny outfit, fully in command of the stage and audience, and backed by the top-notch playing of pianist Oscar Perez, bassist Elias Bailey and drummer Dorian Phelps, her approach is one that can both satisfy many of the jazz-purists and engage far more of the jazz-curious. One could complain, for example, that her take on John Coltrane's 'My Favorite Things' hit the high-notes too soon, but then again, it also sounded great - festival audience approved - and she even threw the deep listeners a bone by quoting 'Giant Steps' at a breakneck tempo. Perez's piano work complimented the saxophonist's energy as he led the group with a spiritual tune before they ended with some high-energy funk. 

***

 

And just like that, the festival dissolved into the night: a long week end of music, more than 2,000 tickets sold, and some estimated 20,000 curious souls wandering through the free concerts and market place, taking in whatever caught their eyes and ears. And they all lived happily ever after ....

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Jorge Nuno - Memórias em chamas

An austere visual for a delicate exploration - Portuguese guitarist Jorge Nuno's second solo recording A ilha Revisitado is out now on Thödol Records. In this video by Mariana Felix, a seemingly abandoned structure is contrasted against a yellowed sky at dusk. Nuno's slashing playing, atonal and rhythmic, form the songs jagged structures. 

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Aaron Wyanski – Schoenberg in Hi Fo Pierrot Lunaire Op. 21 (Speculative Records, 2026)

By Sammy Stein

Aaron Wyanski is a man on a mission. He is a pianist, composer, and musicologist. Wyanski has been a featured composer at festivals and major events and has held a deep fascination with the atonality and compositional style of Arnold Schoenberg since he was young. This recording Schoenberg: Pierrot Lunaire, OP.21, sees Wyanski continue his ongoing exploration and homage to Schoenberg via the medium of jazz, Schoenberg in Hi-Fi. You have to be free-thinking to understand what Wyanski is intending with his Schoenberg in Hi-Fi series, of which this recording is another step. Wyanski coined the title “speculative musicologist” to describe the project, which is a series of albums and performances that explore a speculative reality in which Schoenberg’s music was intentionally marketed as lounge/exotica as part of the late 1950s LP boom in mid-century America. Wyanski takes Schoenberg and rearranges it, dropping in a large portion of jazz and enhancing the atonal concepts – hiding sweet inventions to be found and making Schoenberg accessible to an even wider listening audience. It might not seem to fit a free jazz take – until you hear it. Then, it makes sense. I was lucky enough to see Wyanski’s work performed in one of London’s major free jazz venues – Café Oto, and the audience there loved it.

On this recording, Wyanski radically rearranges Arnold Schoenberg’s atonal masterpiece, Pierrot Lunaire OP.21 with vocals performed with glorious decadence by soprano Anna Elder. In the alternate reality where Schoenberg is marketed to mass Mid-century audiences, it would coincide with the rise of high-fidelity audio. Many albums were being sold by boasting “you’ve never heard sounds like this before.” In Wyanski’s universe, that means freedom, and the sounds might come from a real or imagined faraway place. Or the sounds of outer space. Or an eclectic orchestration. Or an experimental approach to the new possibilities afforded by stereo sound. Or all of these.

An interesting feature of Schoenberg in Hi-Fi as a whole is that, aside from percussion, nothing is added or removed from Schoenberg’s work. As a result, while the transformations can sound radical, Schoenberg in Hi-Fi becomes a new lens to experience what is already in Schoenberg’s scores. Wyanski calls this practice speculative musicology.

On how he and Elder came to collaborate, Wyanski comments, “Anna and I met while both participating in the summer festival New Music on the Point and got to know each other better while we were both living in Pittsburgh a few years later. After my first Schoenberg in Hi-Fi release, she wrote me a very kind email and said that it reminded her of Yma Sumac, whom she used to make and perform transcriptions of, so she really got the whole exotica angle. She also mentioned that she was getting ready to perform Pierrot later that season. Seeing this opening as the once-in-a-lifetime possibility that it was, my response was, "Hey, want to make a Pierrotalbum with me?" and I consider myself extremely lucky that she agreed. I couldn't have asked for a better collaborator. There is a wide range of performance practices for the vocals in Pierrot, but the fierce accuracy of her approach I find especially well-suited for Schoenberg in Hi-Fi."

Wyanski has struck gold with Elder. Her vocals are rangy, and she also has an ability to not only be note-perfect but also to infuse a laid-back sense of decadence and humour into her singing.

There are twenty-one tracks on this recording, and they seem to fly past, as Schoenberg is given the interpretation he possibly deserved. Elder introduces elements such as a wonderful swinging sassiness on ‘Madonna’ while the essence of Schonenberg looms large on ‘Mondestrunken’ and Der Kranke Mond,’ albeit with a slight touch of Austin Powers sixties tones in the latter. The ears occasionally find themselves most definitely pricked as Schoenberg’s delectation for atonality and dissonance is explored.

A delightful confluence of classical music, jazz and, well, something completely different, this music is an exploration not just of Schoenberg’s style and workings but also a development of several areas where dissonance becomes almost harmonic. In every chord, it can be argued, all the notes are present, and dissonance is created when you rearrange and reorganize them, something that Schoenberg and his ilk took delight in and then unleashed on unsuspecting audiences – sometimes to their liking.

It is similar here, and the listener is drawn in if they are curious enough, or brave enough, to venture beyond the expectations of expected resolutions to sequences, progressions, or musical cadences, whether perfect, interrupted, or imperfect. What is most intriguing about the music is not its sixties tones, or slightly irksome embellishments, but its hidden notes, the sudden drops and changes, or the beautiful, crazy vocal lines.

When I reviewed Wyanski before, I said that free jazz appreciators will understand. This music makes complete sense. It still does, and Schoenberg still has a lot to show us. 

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Thomas Morgan - Around You Is A Forest (Loveland, 2025)

By Sarah "Flake" Grosser

Thomas Morgan is an enigma. An anomaly in a scene dominated by popularity contests and loud, explosive personalities, fierce networking, and hustling at the after-show hang. And while it’s not atypical for upright bassists to tend towards introversion, Thomas’s default setting seems to be permanently locked into the same mode: ultra calm. It’s impossible to decipher the thought process behind his perfect technique and razor-sharp focus. Whether he is executing a series of miraculous double stops, or a simple, understated, beautiful melody; to watch or hear Thomas play is to witness his magic. It’s no surprise then that his work reflects his demeanour: softly spoken, calculated, deliberate, and above all, original.

For his 2025 debut release on Jakob Bro’s Loveland label, Thomas has mostly placed his bass to the side, in favour of an algorithmic instrument he invented, called WOODS; an acronym for “WOODS Often Oscillates Droning Strings”. With the timbre reminiscent of a muted plucked guqin or similar stringed instrument from the east, WOODS is deceptively acoustic-sounding. In the first song “Around You Is A Forest,” (a reference to the 1976 text-based computer game “Adventure”), Thomas duets with himself on both upright bass and WOODS. The rapid plucks spring in random rhythmic patterns from speaker to speaker, like rain pitter-pattering gently against a glass window.

The rest of the album is a series of duets with an exhaustive cast of brilliant jazz musicians, all male (unfortunately), but undeniably diverse and talented. These duets feature Thomas only on WOODS and are seemingly improvised works ranging in length from around five to sixteen minutes.

“Eddies” sees drummer Dan Weiss on the tabla in a lively groove while the WOODS explores rhythmic arpeggios and shifting melodies. It’s a stark contrast to “Dream Sequence” which begins with pianist Craig Taborn on a synth reminiscent of a forgotten horror film. It gradually morphs into a dreamy wafting soundscape complete with watery samples, bird tweets, and warm lush string pads. All while the WOODS continues to rapidly, subtly flitter around their strange, imaginary world.

“Through the Trees” continues our sonic forest adventure with Gerald Cleaver on a drumkit recorded with a distinctly characteristic mid-hall echo. Meanwhile, “In the Dark” brings us back to a nostalgic uneasiness with layers of atonal warbling flute from Henry Threadgill. “Assembly of All Beings” features layers of Ambrose Akinmusire on the trumpet dueting with WOODS and himself, in a series of long squeals and sustained notes used to create chords. This layering is also apparent via Bill Frisell’s contemplative, earnest acoustic guitar, topped with pepperings of electric and the slightest distorted fuzz on “Rising From The West.” Bright, soaring tones from Immanuel Wilkin’s saxophone are layered with peeps and toots in “Murmuration.” The addition of Gary Snyder's spoken-word poetry on "Here" brings the album to a warm and satisfying conclusion.

From start to finish, it’s hard to tell exactly what Thomas is actually doing, or indeed, what WOODS really is. Repeated listenings only raise even more questions. But this is all part of the mystery that is Thomas Morgan - there’s so much more to this forest than just the trees.

(Many of those questions are actually answered HERE, via the Transitional Technology Substack, in a guest essay penned by Thomas himself. In this great feature he shares his childhood experiences with music, programming, and how these early influences shaped the creation of WOODS, and this debut record.)

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Diatribes & Jean-Luc Guionnet – L’apport: An awkward position (Insub, 2026)

By Fotis Nikolakopoulos

Diatribes, the duo of Cyril Bondi on the drums and d’ incise on electronics, has been, in and out, running for twenty years. Their take on bridging improvisation with microtonal small scale compositions has always been traveling with guests that were equal parts of the aforementioned procedure. Here, on this CD, they revive all this by welcoming saxophonist and improviser Jean-Luc Guionnet.

Using the verb welcoming is not an accident for sure. Guionnet has for a very long time a champion of an experimental approach towards the saxophone –towards the orthodoxy of sound making I dare say. So is the duo of diatribes. Here, on the always full of surprises Insub label, they collectively try, maybe even struggle, to create symbolisms. Symbolisms that have shaped improvisation as a genre and practice against hierarchy in music. Questions are posed as to what is music when it comes to established realities of its tradition: melody, soloing, playing aggressively in order to be heard (the antithesis: microtonal playing), what is this tradition of, especially them, drums and saxophone in jazz’s history.

The addition of a third person in diatribes’ quest for total freedom in producing sounds, makes things even more complicated, even if Guionnet knows his way well into those uncharted territories. Sudden, small scale, eruptions of notes by the saxophone are followed –or going along- by low key drumming (even with some rhythmic patterns from time to time) and the electronics, along with other unknown sound sources, of d’incise that glue all this together.

It is not an easy task for sure. The sounds that come out of this cd are demanding –both towards the listener, as they were by their producers. Many times the tracks of  L'apport: An awkward position feel like a work in progress. Accepting the practicalities of sound mediums, like duration, all six of them, clocking just less than forty minutes, could be excursion into the unknown. Long distance runners in collective improvisation.

Listen here: 

@koultouranafigo

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Andy Haas – In Praise of Insomnia (Resonant Music, 2026)

 

By Matty Bannond

Up to 35 percent of adults in the US have symptoms of insomnia (according to a 2025 study ). But those people’s night-time struggles vary significantly. They may have difficulty falling asleep, staying asleep or returning to sleep. Patients can suffer short-term or chronic afflictions. And the condition can be linked to anxiety, depression, chronic pain or other conditions.

This twelve-track album by improvising saxophonist Andy Haas expresses the peculiarities of those various bedtime hardships—from overactive synapses and hyperactive fingertips to loneliness, self-pity and despair. It was recorded on the Winter Solstice of 2025 and presents Haas alone with his saxophones, as well as a Nano Pulsar pedal that chops, splits and reshapes his instrument’s sound.

Nifty pedalwork opens up an expansive spectrum of manipulated outputs. Several tracks feature duplicate voices that suggest Haas talking to himself in the twilight. “Heart Less” involves two long-note drones that start at opposite ends of the saxophone’s register and meet in the middle. “This Dark Land” uses a similar technique, with voices helixing around a central pattern of changing pitch.

Bursts of sound and oscillating frequencies are also common textural tricks. On “An Attenuated Goodbye”, a bluesy initial passage flits from singing to silence and back again. “The Cold Inside Us” has a piercing, car-alarm quality. Both pieces remind the listener of nights where a painful incident from the past refuses to subside or a concern about the future declines to wait until morning.

Amid the midnight misery, there is a playful property to this thirty-minute experiment. In general, Haas tends to favor the higher register of his instrument. This adds a squeaky cheekiness to tracks like “Sense Less” and “Sleep Less”. His playing has a more noodly nature here, like a person exploring the liberating options that become available when the rest of humanity is in the sack.

In Praise of Insomnia balances tonal and textural variety with recurring motifs, methodologies and moods. Although Andy Haas is a detail-driven artist, his improvisations often express a light-humored and capricious temper. This album is unlikely to help anybody fall asleep, stay asleep or return to sleep. But it might coax their mind down intriguing paths while they navigate restless hours in the day or the night.

The album is available on CD and as a digital download here .

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Cath Roberts and Olie Brice - Setpieces (Relative Pitch, 2026)

By Hrayr Attarian

English saxophonist Cath Roberts is an innovative improviser and composer, a graphic artist, organizer, and educator. Roberts’ frequent collaborator and compatriot, bassist Olie Brice, is equally imaginative as his music blurs the line between pre-written and spontaneously created. The pair shares sublime camaraderie, and their professional relationship enhances the brilliance of their individual expressions. All this is fully displayed on their 2026 duo release the provocative Setpieces.

The album starts on a riotous note with “Tensile”. Roberts’ fiery refrains spar with Brice’s angular, con arco lines. The delightfully dissonant dialogue seamlessly goes from a passionate, extroverted repartee to parallel introspective musings. Robert’s reverberating baritone complements Brice’s darkly hued bass as their respective improvisations elegantly waver between converging and going their separate ways.

This stimulating conversation continues on “Cascades”. Both Roberts and Brice, individually and together, channel more boppish sensibilities without limiting the freedom of their performances. Roberts’ alto has an incandescent, lyrical edge, while Brice creates a dynamic framework with his resonant tones. He plays increasingly complex melodic fragments, to which Roberts responds with agile, muscular phrases.

The two musicians mirror one another with clever and inventive ways to make their duets more than the addition of two separate solos. On the melancholic “Anthills”, for instance, Roberts’ pops match Brice’s plucked note

s while the saxophonist’s pensive undulations complement the bassist’s dramatic drones. The track grows more wistful as it progresses to its conclusion, and the captivating tension keeps the mood expectant.

The poetic sense and intriguing ambiance crystallize on “Shadow Puppets”. Both musicians echo each other with long, mournful soliloquies. Then, as the tune evolves, Roberts’ elegiac extemporization weaves a complex path through Brice’s intricate rhythmic tapestry. The discourse is laced with mysticism, especially as Brice’s dark, percussive passages intermix with Roberts’ warm, yearning ones.

This stimulating work showcases the imaginative creativity of two improvisational masters. It is also a perfect example of a sublime balance between individualism and collaborative teamwork. The result is one of the best releases of 2026 so far.

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Jacopo Ferrazza & Sebastian Marino - Apeiron (Teal Dreamers, 2026)

By Sammy Stein 

Apeiron is the new project by double bassist and composer Jacopo Ferrazza and pianist and composer Sebastian Marino, released on CD and digital formats on Teal Dreamers Factory.

The press release says that on the album, ‘double bass, piano, and experimental electronics coexist without hierarchies, generating a sound environment in which timbral origins often become indistinguishable.’ But a listen reveals this is not quite true. The timbral origins of the instruments and the electronics are distinguishable, with the deep body of the bass providing a definitive, characteristic timbre that no electronics can replicate. What does happen, however, is that the sounds of the double bass as it is played with the bow, or pizzicato, the piano, and the electronics of the mini-Moog, synth, and Hammond, intermingle and entwine, creating an effect akin to multi-instrumental music, yet the nuances and sonic elements of bass and piano are discernible. The electronics act as an extension of the instrumental dialogue through which the two musicians expand the possibilities of listening and interaction. Interestingly, the music circles around a poem:

Close Your Eyes
And Step Beyond the Edge of What You Know
There Is a Flame Inside You
Ancient Patient Waiting
It Has No Name
It Has No Beginning
It Is the Breath Before the First Word Was Spoken
Feel It
Rising Softly Through Your Spine
Like Liquid Gold in the Dark
You Are Not the Body
You Are Not the Thought
You Are the Pulse Beneath the Silence
Let the World Dissolve
Let the Noise Fall Away
There Is Only This Moment
This Warmth This Sacred Unfolding
Whisper to Yourself: I Remember
Because You Do
You Have Always Known
And Now the Flame Awakens

Each track is titled as a line from the poem, so both the concept and the music create a whole. The music is divided into two macro blocks, the first ten tracks form Epanastasi (Repetition) and the second eleven form Oneiro (Dreams). The title Apeiron is Greek and means boundless or undefined, and is apt for the music, which sees the musicians create landscapes of sound ranging from gentle whispers of entreaty to forceful, expressive density. Each track forms its own encapsulated narrative yet is linked to the rest of the music in subtle ways. The relentless repetition of the piano note on ‘Close Your Eyes’, surrounded by experimental, explorative sounds, is intense, yet somehow compelling as it leads to the short, intense forty-six seconds of ‘And Step beyond The Edge of What You Know’, which melds itself into ‘There is A Flame Inside You’, which feels almost ecclesiastical with its organ lines and vocal electronics. The bass swells in glorious tones out of the generous mix of sound, and the piano gently calms the madness that appears to be present in the music. You can almost feel the intention of Ferrazza, which, he describes as creating music, “where bass, piano and electronics function as a single evolving system.” There is a sense of the instruments feeding each other ideas, snippets to develop and run with, or shifts in mind and direction.

The lines of the poem as track titles offer concepts but rarely fit the atmosphere of the track to which they are assigned – but here the poem is a tool to weld the music together and give a route to follow, whether that is strictly or using diverse routes. The music unfolds, it is dynamic and, in places, terrifyingly beautiful in its fragility. Like on ‘Ancient Patient Waiting,’ where Ferrazza’s bass rises, its voice a gorgeous solo, its timbre palpable, the sounds swirling around the wooden body of the instrument and emerging smooth and warm, or the gentleness of both piano and bass on ‘It Has No Name.’

There are several standout tracks, including ‘It Has No Beginning,’ with its otherworldly atmosphere, which merges seamlessly into ‘It Is The Breath Before The First Word Was Spoken’ where deep electronics and synth lines give this a seventies prog vibe.

Both musicians have classical groundings, and this reveals itself in their harmonies and naturally evolving chordal episodes on some tracks, including the dynamic and emotive ‘Feel It.’

I found nothing but good in this music; the evolution of sounds is dynamic and interesting, so that even someone who is not fond of synth or Hammond found it incredibly engaging. The minds of these two musicians come together through their instruments to make music that is astonishing in the many ways it manages to engage the listener.

Both musicians have space to shine – like the bass rising on ‘Like Liquid Gold In The Dark’ and ‘You Are Not The Body,’ where Ferrazza finds endless elements of the instrument, or the piano on ‘You Are Not The Thought.’

Some tracks are an entity of their own, while others merge into each other, broken not by a change of tempo but a change of direction, slight then deliberate and divergent. Like from ‘You Are the Pulse Beneath the Silence’ to’ Let the World Dissolve.’

The second block of tracks (dreams) seems like one narrative, with different chapters, the music a changing dialogue. There are more electronic sounds in this block, and on ‘Whisper to Yourself I Remember,’ there is a sense of a hellscape as voices and strange electronic background sounds make the music rather than instruments.

Interestingly enough, truculent piano, swooping bass, and weird electric sounds work a treat, like on ‘You Have Always Known.’ The final track sees a return to piano and bass playing at its best and most expressive.

This is a different step, as Ferrazza says, from his previous work. The album was fully improvised and recorded in a single session with no editing. The music unfurls through listening, tension, silence, and real-time transformation, moving between free improvisation and a more textural, electroacoustic space.

Ferrazza said he felt this might resonate with my interest in exploratory and boundary-crossing music, and he was right, but this music will resonate with many listeners because it is energetic when it needs to be, quiet when this is called for, and the music seems to follow an exquisite rhythm that somehow is defined and sits beautifully in the mind of the listener.

It is a testimony to how good musical dialogue becomes when musicians have a long association, such as the fifteen years of working together behind Ferrazza and Marino. I cannot recommend this album more.

 

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Joel Harrison and Friends - In a Silent Way Reimagined

A few weeks ago we shared a video from a group out of Germany taking electric Miles out for a spin. Seems like they aren't the only ones - here is guitarist Joel Harrison with some folks certainly known to the readers of the blog jamming on In a Silent Way" at Big Ears this past year. There is a recording of the whole meet-up that is slated for release in August.

To cap off our Miles Davis tribute week, here is 'In a Silent Way Reimagined' with Chad Taylor, Jerome Harris, Micah Thomas, Sam Sadigursky, Brandon Seabrook, Tim Keiper and Joel Harrison. 

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Miles Davis @ 100 - A Celebration Through Albums (6)

The final day of our celebration of Miles Davis at 100. See day 1, day 2, day 3, and day 4 respectively. 

 

By Paul Acquaro

 

Bitches Brew ... the first time I heard it, I was in high school. A friend had beaten me to the jazz-rock trough and had been drinking liberally. He effused about Billy Cobham, talked in hushed tones about Mahavishnu Orchestra and conspiratorially name dropped the title of Miles Davis' electric masterwork. Coming from a steady diet of Bob Dylan, Paul Simon and Violent Femmes, I wasn't so sure I shared in the taste, yet. I picked up a copy of Bitches Brew and popped it into the tape machine ... and I didn't get it. It was chaotic and harsh to my then tender, structure-addicted ears. Today, I hear only creamy tones and fluffy textures, I can not imagine not luxuriating in the sweet drippings of a Fender Rhodes, but that was then. What turned out was, I really needed was a gentler introduction, an opening of my taste buds to the exotic riches on offer, what it turned out I needed was the 1968 release Filles De Kilimanjaro, the first of the so called 'Directions in Music' labeled albums that was used on Mile's electric output until 1973. 

Filles De Kilimanjaro (Columbia, 1969)

A so-called transitional album, Filles De Kilimanjaro featured the 'second great quintet' with Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, Tony Williams and Wayne Shorter on the first recording session. On a second session, Davis replaced Hancock and Carter with Chick Corea and Dave Holland. The resulting album found electric keyboard and bass along side their acoustic counterparts, looser musical structures, and the introduction of more straight-ahead rhythm and melodic snippets and statements. The near hypnotic pulse of the opening track 'Frelon brun' and the crispy blasts of trumpet on 'Petits Machins' fascinated me. However, it was the title track that had the most power effect. The electric bass most of all, driving and simple, it anchored the music. I finally heard the trumpeter's melodies and the shimmering keyboard work in their fullness. Here was Davis and his luminous crew laying the foundations for the even more abstracted constructions on Bitches Brew. By then, Teo Macero would be cutting and pasting together the long jams into tracks, but at this point they were still somewhat traditional songs. This was the gateway for me, I began developing the taste for electric Miles Davis music that sustains me to this day. 

 

Star People (Columbia, 1983) 

A little later in my listening life, a slightly tattered copy of the Miles Davis box-set The CBS Years 1955 - 1985, which I likely picked up at Princeton Record Exchange for dirt cheap, did it again. This time, I was caught by surprise by the track 'Star on Cicely.' I hadn't yet progressed into 80s Miles, or rather, the snippets that I had listened hadn't generated the enthusiasm I felt for the 'electric Miles' period. Something changed with this one. Excerpted from the 1983 album Star People, 'Star on Cicely' had an unexpected rocking punch to it. The music is slicker than the 70s output, song structure is back and Miles' playing is sharp. What I liked even more was the guitar work on the album, which was primarily Mike Stern with some contributions from John Scofield. Apparently, the head melody of the track was derived from an improvised line that Scofield played - though I'm not sure where I got that information from - regardless the song that was subsequently crafted had a lot of moxie. The album itself is rather joyful. The opening track, 'Come Get It,' is a barn-burner, with Davis ablaze on the track, bassist Marcus Miller providing a funk grounding, and Stern comping with spunk. I don't care for everything on the album, elements of 'Speak' and 'U 'n' I' are harbingers of cheesier times coming, but at least 3/4 of this album still resonates for me. 

 

I learned about the live recordings We Want Miles! and Miles! Miles! Miles! a little later and tracked down both albums, both of which captured the magical moments found on Star People. 

 

Bill Laswell - Panthalassa: The Music of Miles Davis 1969–1974 (Sony, 1998) 

Last but not least, I must mention Bill Laswell's masterful remix album Panthalassa. This album rewired my musical brain again when it came out in '98. Laswell used Davis' electric era music as a source, and employed the studio to emphasize and de-emphasize different instruments, mixing the impressionistic sounds of In a Silent Way to give it a new punch, adding a dub foundation to parts of Agharta to work up a different mood and finding a new song in 'He Loved Him Madly.' Sad that a follow-up to Panthalassa never made it to release. 

 

I could keep on going, as I slobber ecstatically when thinking of Live-Evil, Tribute to Jack Johnson, Big Fun, Get Up with It, On the Corner, At Fillmore, Dark Magus, Agartha and Pangaea, but I think you get the picture.

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