Saalfelden Jazz Festival 2024 (3/3)

 

By Sarah Grosser

 

KONZERT IM RUDERBOOT: MATS GUSTAFSSON & NATE WOOLEY

Mountain Tracks

 

Mats Gustafsson – saxophone

Nate Wooley – trumpet

The Saalfelden lake can be found just a short 800m walk from the Main Stage, and is directly opposite the festival camping grounds. Past undulating hills and tucked away, surrounded by a vast panorama of glorious rocky mountains and grazing cattle, a strange quacking echoes from somewhere in the distance.

The rowboat performance is a long-standing festival tradition occurring at 8:30 AM and it seems like the whole town comes out to watch. Fold-out chairs line the perimeter of the lake, and - is that ‘Where’s Waldo’? No, it’s James Brandon Lewis again! Everyone’s gathered to see Mats Gustafsson & Nate Wooley imitating wild game as they gently float around in circles on the glassy body of water. The improvisations are carried beautifully across the surface of the lake and can be heard echoing through the mountains from miles around. Some of the louder bursts even echo with delay. Most onlookers are fairly silent, but some are (understandably) giggling at the bizarre sights and sounds. Yes, it’s impressive, but I'll be damned if it’s not adorably funny, even cute, watching Mats and Nate gliding merrily along, making duck calls in a damn row boat. Brilliant concept, totally worth waking up early, and a great way to get some fresh, cool air in the lungs after the blistering heat wave of the previous days.

OLI STEIDLE & THE KILLING POPES

Otto Gruberhalle

 

Photo by Matthias Heschl

Dan Nicholls - keys, electronics

Keisuke Matsuno - guitar

Justus Rayem - keys (absent)

Oli Steidle - drums midi controller

The Host is BACK. This time he’s making jokes in German about "Killing Popes on a SUNDAY." Ha ha haa.. good one. He’s the man.

There’s just three popes today - Popes Lite! Things kick off with blips, ploinks, water droplets and quick diverse selective drumming, hints of drum & bass on the tempo, and a reverberant lead synth on an interstellar exploration. One particularly windy synth sounds like an ancient flute. It’s totally groovy, infectious... funky, even. This must be around show number 6 for Oli, but save for a few beads of sweat on the brow, from the accuracy of his form, one could never tell he’s been so busy. He's just that professional. Oli was even one of the participants in the Saturday morning “Jazz Hike,” which was, according to him, "really great." It was unfortunate to have had to skip it due to scheduling conflicts, but this was a recurring theme at Saalfelden: with so much talent on offer at all hours of the day, there were often clashes resulting in difficult sacrifices. Dan has a deep, descending whirr going during a particularly trippin' breakdown while Keisuke exudes charisma on the git. Oli is a man about broken breakbeats. Each piece is deliberate, really infectious, creative, and always topped off with a killer, out-of-nowhere fill. Such exciting musicians to watch. You never know what's going to happen next; an addictive act!

The Halle is dense with bodies, but still plenty of space to boogie, which some people do. Jim Black can be spied nodding, counting along to Oli’s great drumming. A spontaneous tempo switch has feet tappin’ all round and locked in music-lovers are bouncing fast, and smiling at the riveting pace. One guy is grinning and shaking his head in disbelief at the magic and musicianship unfolding onstage. His partner and friend are deep in it too. Today is a good day for them. One woman walks past with a Popes record, no doubt to keep the party rockin’ later on.

TOMEKA REID QUARTET

Main Stage 

 

Photo by Matthias Heschl

 

Tomeka Reid – cello

Jason Roebke - bass

Mary Halvorson - guitar

Tomas Fujiwara - drums

Slowly wrapping things up for the weekend, the soundcheck isn't quite finished when they open the doors. It’s not a worry, nobody is fussy, especially when it gives a glimpse into the wonderful show that’s ahead of them. Sparse pitter-patters of Tomas's soft brushes meet the distant harmonics of Tomeka’s soft cello. Mary comes in with her glorious affected, reverberant guitar like a rainbow through the clouds, illuminating the sombre piece. (Again, the photographers swarm…)

The piece in question has a nice, shuffley swing to it. Tomeka and Jason play a main melody in unison an octave apart from each other. There's an unmistakable soul. Is this what it means when they talk about that "New York Jazz?” Tomas's plays an explosive little solo with a beautiful, natural fluidity.

Among other creative and unorthodox playing techniques used sparingly, Tomeka uses a “pressing” technique to elicit a rubbing sound. The playoff between Mary and Tomeka is complementary and conversational. There is hardly a seat free in the house. At one point Jason leans in and blows into the hole of his upright bass to produce an amplified, well, blowing sound. Tomeka accompanies with eccentric experimental plucking and creaking methods. Mary joins with feather light plucks and Tomas adds the occasional spattering of cymbal. Soon the instrumentation evolves slowly into a shifty jazz ballad, it's complicated but not to the point of being unpalatable. In fact, it’s quite enjoyable. Tomeka's cello harmonics whistle softly and the bass brings it all home.

POST KOMA FEAT. SOFIA JERNBERG
Main Stage

Photo by Matthias Heschl

Petter Eldh - bass

Sofia Jernberg - voice

Jonas Kulhammar - saxophone

Kaja Draxler - piano

Lukas König - drums

Petter explained the entomology of Post Koma: Koma Saxo is the original but Post Koma is with whoever he wants to play. Petter’s bone-dry stage banter is hilariously cheeky: "Normally we have Christian Lillinger – today we’ve got a better drummer, Lukas König.”

Petter rips a gorgeous bass solo and is joined by Kaja – it’s wonderfully melodic. In some groups it’s not always so obvious to the onlooker who is in charge, but with Post Koma it's clear that Petter is the leader. The basslines are frequent; involved and busy, and beyond that there's plenty of bass features accompanied only by drums or piano.

Sofia's sweet high voice provides a fitting top layer to round out the sound. The concept is established and confident. The compositions are tight. Sofia gives accents reminiscent of a powerful singer over a 90s club track. Love that.

Petter’s epically dark stage banter continues: ”This is a WORLD premiere. This song has a Swedish tone, by a Swedish man. I won't mention his name because he doesn't deserve it. Anyway, he’s dead.” So far Petter is just about the only artist to have any real jokes between songs and it's so funny.

Throughout the show there are some really cool percussive interludes in interesting shifting measures that have you counting along and keep you guessing. Again, the hall is packed, this time the balcony even more so. So far this is one of the most crowded shows, certainly due to the caliber of the musicians but probably also due to the bad weather and the rest of the festival having already packed up and called it a weekend. 

 

Ches Smith (with "The Throw"). Photo by Matthias Heschl

Speaking of which, it would have been an absolute delight to have indulged in Erik Friedlander’s “The Throw”, closing out the festival, as I am such a fan, but the intensity and overload of program dictated to me and my exhausted mortal hull that this was not to be. Which is terribly unfortunate, because aside from the New-York-based quartet being highly reputable, world class musicians in their own right, according to the photographs, Ches Smith wore a pair of white knee socks. Oh well. You snooze, you lose.



Saalfelden Festival runs a tight ship, and it’s obvious why people keep returning after 44 years in a row. Its success can be attributed to the professionalism of its co-ordinators, diversity of its artists, the variety of its different sized stages, and the overall great mood of seemingly everyone involved. It’s a testament to the festival that the artists were so present and happy to hang around the site among the festival-goers, but the blessing of great weather and a wide range of different food and entertainment options meant that there was never a dull moment. Yes, it was exhaustive, but perhaps the more seasoned Saalfelden attendee would be less overwhelmed the second time around. The only way to find out is to invite me back to next year’s Saalfelden #45, as I am already daydreaming about getting down to that sweet little mountain town, strolling over the valley at dawn, and enjoying some new set of glorious weirdos, floating around, gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily torturing their musical instruments in a dingy.

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Saalfelden Jazz Festival 2024 (2/3)

 

By Sarah Grosser

 

Day 2: Saturday, 2024-08-24

THE TOTALLY MECHANIZED MIDI ORCHESTRA FEAT. VARIOUS ARTISTS
Nexus Stage Downstairs

(Taken on Thursday night) Photo by Matthias Heschl

MIDI Orchestra
Judith Schwarz - drums
Martin Siewert - guitar, electronics
Mona Matbou Riahi - clarinet, fx 
Chris Janka - guitar

Nicola L. Hein - electric guitar, programming for interactive robots

My plan was to see the exhibition piece by Sofia Jernberg and Tomeka Reid at the Brücklwirtshaus. Unfortunately, the "Brück" only seats 100 people, and it was full on arrival. Some stayed to at least hear it from the lobby, but for a festival with plenty to offer, this lesson was learned for the next time, and I hauled ass to the Nexus Stage for Plan B.

Mona scrunches up her nose in a happy grin when she hears something she likes- in this case it's the tiny, tinny, plink-ploink of a mechanized xylophone.

The improvised piece ventures from ambient, experimental tones and klang through to a more groovy beat-based jam. There are five different machines and five musicians. It's a respectful collaboration taking heavy cues from the machines. Occasionally the machines become a little dominant. The machines are fascinating but can get noisy, and sometimes the music takes a back seat to the clattering. It's a small crowd, I don't think this collective was announced in the app.

A bottle blowing machine, xylophone machine, one machine made from the body of a guitar,... an assortment presumably controlled by MIDI as the name suggests.

The space is a typical "white-cube" gallery with a glitching projection and colourful lights adorning the area, alongside some hanging blackout cloth to highlight the machines and provide a backdrop to the stage space. The high ceiling provides a cool escape from the brutal Austrian heatwave and it's a very comfortable space to consume such complex, "far out" music at 10:30 AM. Most folk have resorted to sitting on the floor to watch the cosmic jam, and despite the moving images and warm stage-lighting, the tone of the piece evolves into a rather ominous, dark, almost horror-esque soundscape. The tinkling glockenspiel takes on the character of a spooky possessed children's toy.

The bottle machine is a ghost, Mona "talks" into her clarinet like a trapped spirit or muffled radio, a distorted pulse flickers through from an unidentified source like a ghost motorbike. Occasionally, random viewers peer over the balcony at the show below, but the original crowd on the floor stay committed. The children in their ear protection are well behaved.

COURVOISIER / ROTHENBERG / WAITS
Short Cuts Stage

Photo by Matthias Heschl

Sylvie Courvoisier - piano

Ned Rothenberg - saxophone, clarinet

Nasheet Waits- drums

After an eight minute delay… It's the host! Götz Bühler is back! He announces that the band have decided to name themselves after the concert hall. So ladies and gentlemen, this is the new trio: "Short Cuts."

When Sylvie plays she rolls her hands and wrists along the entire length of the keys- she must have incredibly tough or thick skin, one couldn't imagine it to be such a comfortable style of playing. This is interspersed naturally with an imaginative and intelligent playing style, occasionally reaching inside the instrument to create percussive effects. Blink-and-you'll-miss-it flourishes of bright sudden high arpeggios accentuate a suspenseful mid-range melody while Nasheet accompanies on rolling cymbals and occasional crashes. They are evocative, and as animated and powerful as giant waves off the coastal shoreline, smashing against the spikey cliffs.

Ned's clarinet solo is breathy - it’s rapid, and expressive, but understated. Nasheet performs an incredibly speedy, tom-heavy solo with a super crisp snare (it makes a "cha!" sound). He seems to be channeling a primitive energy.

Sometimes Sylvie also contorts in her chair, slamming her entire arm along the keys. One can feel that she has a message to deliver and this is her wordless outlet. Ned is equally as prolific on the sax as he is on the clarinet. While this particular solo was more of a pulse, his lack of ego and this restraint make for an unpretentious saxual experience which is entirely welcome and thoroughly enjoyable.

The prepared piano sounds out of this world, particularly up the top end where higher frequencies are reduced to mere pops and plucks. It almost sounds as if it were produced on a weirdly randomized modular synth setup, but in fact it’s made from strips of gaffer tape.

A great little supergroup with a fabulous chemistry. The group makes up for their delay, spoiling us with a little overtime encore. A guy behind me goes "Yeeeee!" when it ends.

LA LITANIE DES CIMES
Main Stage 

Photo by Matthias Heschl

Clément Janinet - violin, compositions
Elodie Pasquier - clarinets
Clément Petit– cello

A straight up folky trio of cello, violin, and clarinet. Introspective and gentle with plenty of pizzicato action. It’s mostly pretty, compared to a lot of the acts so far, and it’s certainly much "easier." In an adorable French accent we are introduced to: "a piece from Burgundy… I hope you know where is… Burgundy."

Cyclical arpeggios with oscillating melodies over the top are tumultuous and dramatic, along with easier, more conventional meter and tone. Methods of playing are not as wildly experimental, and one could easily imagine this as the score for a dramatic indie movie or TV show. It’s more classical in nature. Bows come out for cello and combined with bass, the mood is sad, not depressing. But perhaps if someone was having a sad day, this music might have them weeping.

Towards the tail end we get some experimentation, and a more loose, free feel. The plucked cello is acting as an upright bass, providing the thick bassline while the violin twitters and soars over the top at breakneck speed, but not full volume, and still in control. The bass clarinet provides a woody, textural contrast and homey, familiar melody. One guy behind me goes "wow."

SYLVIE COURVOISIER - “Chimaera”
Main Stage

Photo by Matthias Heschl

 Sylvie Courvoisier - piano

Christian Fennesz – guitars, electronics

Patricia Brennan – vibraphone, percussion

Nate Wooley - trumpet

Drew Gress - bass

Nasheet Waits - drums

Totally packed out main hall where the heat has well and truly risen, from the 30C+ day. The air is thick in the hall but the compositions waft like a refreshing blast of cool sea air.

Today, Patricia Brennan replaces Kenny Wollesen on vibes! A worthy substitute, effortlessly "chiming" in. Sylvie has had a costume change from earlier in the day too, and understandably so. Everyone is looking forward to the cool temperate change tomorrow.

The soundscapes are peaceful and meditative with a hint of sensuality accentuated by Wooley's occasional muted trumpet. Piano and drums are in beautiful sync as they roll and arpeggiate together. All the while subtle hints of Fennesz's signature affected guitar, which provides a unique and distinctly ambient character for the sextet. An audience member mutters "Mmmm hmmm" in agreement after the first melody reaches its breakdown. A soulful, desolate, lonely trumpet. The older women in the back row who snigger at the more far out solos by Nate are in for a wild ride, if they think this is where it ends… far from it.

Despite the number of people in the group, everyone is given the space required to breathe, and to feel his or her place. There's an underlying sultriness to Sylvie's compositions that make you want to slow dance in the moment. As I write this, as if telepathically connected, Mary Halvorson starts slow dancing along in the aisle as she fans herself to beat the heat. This music would be perfect to listen to on a sweltering hot beach on holiday after a bad breakup. There is just the right amount of "uplifting" despite it not being particularly "happy" per se. Chimaera is a beautifully deep project. It's lovely.

THE MESSTHETICS & JAMES BRANDON LEWIS
Main Stage

Photo by Matthias Heschl

Joe Lally - bass

Brendan Canty - drums

Anthony Pirog - guitar

James Brandon Lewis - saxophone

Overheard once the Messthetics started to play: "What is this porno music?? This is way too sexy for Saalfelden! I gotta go check that out - that is too good to miss…"

The house is packed, people are dancing- it's the big party closer that the Main Stage has been craving. It's a big, fun, freakout with infectious heartfelt melodies and JBL's smokin' aces. The band is having fun and the crowd is mad for it. Not too much more needs to be said other than that the energy is palpable and the group have Saalfelden in the palms of their hands, which are presumably sweaty, given how hot it’s been today, and how hot it is in the Main Stage hall. The ballads are catchy and… also hot. The guitar effects are spot on. The mix is right. Really excellent curatorial choice to program this band at this time. Props to the team, and the killer musicians. What’s not to love about this?

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Saalfelden Jazz Festival 2024 (1/3)

By Sarah Grosser

Day 1: Friday, 2024-08-23

Not their first rodeo - this was to be the 44th Saalfelden Jazz Festival, and one could tell by the scale of the production that this time it was going to be enormous. The hand-flyer summed up its gargantuan pitch: 4 DAYS - 60 CONCERTS - 200 ARTISTS - 13 LOCATIONS - 1 APP.

This reporter arrived on Friday and only managed to make it to 3 DAYS - 14 CONCERTS - 54 ARTISTS - 7 LOCATIONS - 1 APP, and even having only experienced a quarter of what the festival had to offer, it was still exhausting. Thankfully the Mainstage VIP, Press, & Guest area provided warm catering and a number of open bars, but with the aforementioned 200 artists roaming freely and mingling amongst the patrons, adrenaline and excitement does tend to lower the appetite. One thing that never gets tiring however, is playing “Where’s Waldo (Festival Edition)” with the likes of, say, James Brandon Lewis or Jim Black. No matter which show you would go to, there would always be a musician peeking in and watching over your shoulder. For jazz trainspotters, just another dash of fun amidst an already dense program of musical activity. 

 

LEÏLA MARTIAL & VALENTIN CECCALDI

Short Cuts Stage

 

Photo by Matthias Heschl

Leïla Martial – voice

Valentin Ceccaldi – cello

Boris Darley – sound

Entering the balcony floor a couple minutes late, the Short Cuts Theatre was hot, dark, and full. Black walls made it virtually impossible to determine whether or not you were standing next to a wall or another person. Despite this and an obscured view, the performance was a breathtaking cello and voice duo. Leïla Martial sounds like an operatic mix between Beth Gibbons of Portishead and Susanne Sundfør. She has the brilliance and power of a pop singer, but also the very delicate, tiny, and minute emotional tones of someone older and wiser. She pairs this with some very subtle effects that she masterfully incorporates with an avant-garde flair. Not just singing, but making physical sounds with her mouth and incorporating instrumental tools as diverse as a slide whistle and a music-box hurdy-gurdy thing, looping effects, and reversing. All the while, the constant heartbeat of Valentin Ceccaldi's appropriate and reduced baseline and melody back her up. Combined, they make a very delicate and warm duo. They performed a song called "Cold Song," the temperature of which was certainly not the case inside the theatre, due to an uncharacteristically hot day over 30 degrees Celsius.

MONA MATBOU RIAHI - “NEBULIFT”
Main Stage

Photo by Matthias Heschl

Mona Matbou Riahi - clarinet, fx
Dorian Concept - synthesizer, electronics
Manu Mayr - bass, fx
Lou Zon - visual art

The Main Stage floor seats around 450, with press & VIP on a balcony with glass railing; perfect for views from above. The press are everywhere. Swarms of photographers line the front row, at least fourteen of them. The room is silently listening, save for the odd shutter snap. The photographers soon have their shots and Mona begins her cool, weird clarinet wail. Gradual descending bass fills the space. It’s dreamy, like a soundtrack, reverb heavy, and pretty. Deep, subconscious, distant, meditative, introspective, reflective, subtle. Lou Zon’s visuals glow like breathing shimmering opals. Eventually making way for an oscillating beat with more focus, imaginative and evocative - very easy on the ears, welcoming and relaxing.

The visuals of trees and leaves blowing are zen-like and ambient. Mona feels every slice, every pulse. The great sound system annunciates beautifully and along with a lot of sub bass nuances, the mix is really satisfying. Playing two horns at once creates a train sound that crescendos. It’s captivating, engaging, cathartic, focussed, special. Mona is possessed.

When the synth builds, it's like a beatless trance record from 1999. Samples from traditional Palestinian singing add to the transcendental vibe. It's great chemistry. Mona’s clarinet is a tether to the mortal realm; a trip sitter holding our hand through the chakra-cleansing voyage. Peaceful, occasionally disturbing, but in a good way, like asking yourself a difficult question. When you know the answer, it's not an easy truth to face. But you also know you can't go back, and it's a new chapter.

Overheard in German, "This is definitely TOO experimental." Perhaps for some, but for others it’s brave, ambitious, and a success on all fronts. Dorian's loop layering is euphoric and unique. For seasoned jazz fans maybe it's too far out, but for lovers of experimental electronica, a rare delight. Thank goodness for "too experimental" bands.

BOTTICELLI BABY
City Tracks Stage

Photo by Rosario Multari

Marlon Bösherz - bass, vocals

Max Wehner - trombone

Thomas Rieder - trumpet

Christian Scheer - saxophone

Jörg Buttler - guitar

Lucius Nawothnig - piano

Tom Hellenthal - drums

I only got the chance to hear Botticelli Baby for a brief moment while exploring the other stages of the festival. Their brass-heavy seven-piece performed on the public City Tracks stage to a completely packed audience of families and casual festival-goers. Their feelgood melodies captivated the entire park. Marlon Bösherz has the look and charismatic performance style of IDLES Joe Talbot, if Joe had taken a couple of pre-show chill pills. They’re cute and cool – everyone is enjoying them. They also offered a staggering range of some of the most impressive merchandise in the scene, including this Botticelli Baby soccer-fan scarf .

KRIS DAVIS TRIO

Main Stage

 

Photo by Matthias Heschl

 

Kris Davis - piano

Robert Hurst - bass

Johnathan Blake - drums

Another swarm of photographers all huddle the stage to get their snap during the solo opening piece. Götz Bühler, the host in white suit jacket is… everywhere! It seems like he is announcing every single performance of the festival, on every stage. His enthusiasm and charisma are contagious, and his passion for remembering the names of each individual musician and pronouncing them correctly is disturbingly professional.

Pyroclastic Records chief and star pianist Ms. Kris Davis performs pieces from "Run the Gauntlet." Davis announces it’s their first performance in Europe, and the next one: "Little Footsteps" is written for her son.

Mary Halvorson and Tomas Fujiwara are standing right behind me - holy guacamole.

Johnathan Blake's drums are FLAT! All low, and angled parallel to the floor. He is all ride. Surely this offers him more control over the volume, but it also gives the audience an uninterrupted view at his precise, effortless drumming. Robert Hurst plays deliberate, intentional bass with solid groove & unmistakable funk. The rhythm section are clearly feelin' it, both musicians nodding along to their rhythms in occasional syncopation with each other. It's easy to spot the musicians in the crowd, because they are in similar sync, grooving with the band. Most everyone else is just watching, still.

Kris's fingers dance over the keys like a spider meticulously spinning its web; precise and methodical, as if by nature. Beams of light illuminate the stage in long sticks that compliment the quieter, more reduced, ballad-y moments of the set.

Mary & Thomas have left but now Tomeka Reid is kickin' it in the back, locked in to the performance.

Kris' soft piece is thoroughly composed as the band reads off of sheet music. A galloping bass solo is met with huge applause – captivating, with just a lil' slap, (or maybe a "love tap") here and there. When the band lifts it up a bit, it's the kind of jazz you could listen to forever. Groovy and interesting, it's like a delicious meal you don't want to finish.

The compositions are such fun, watching them swing, as they really spring into life doing what they could probably do in their sleep. A walking bassline and a ring-a-ding ride are classic, but done so well. Kris dives down into the keys like a flock of seabirds diving into the ocean from the sky, spearing their fish for dinner. The lights are absolutely beautiful. If jazz is to be played in a concert hall, this is precisely how it should be honoured. Props to the stage design team. It looks great.

DANIEL ERDMANNS “THÉRAPIE DE COUPLE”
Main Stage  

Photo by Matthias Heschl

Daniel Erdmann - saxophone
Hélène Duret - clarinet/bass clarinet
Théo Ceccaldi - violin
Vincent Courtois - cello
Robert Lucaciu - bass
Eva Klesse - drums

Götz Bühler, the host with the most, is back to introduce the sextet… Love that guy.

“Couples Therapy” are a colourful bunch: Eva Klesse is hunched over the kit in a signature stance. Robert Lucaciu is on upright bass, sporting two sleeves of tattoos. Theo Ceccaldi’s funky pants steal the show. Erdmann, with his soft, floppy hair, is wearing the only tie I have seen in 2024 and that's perfectly fine. He can also play the saxophone, and his performance is certainly animated, shuffling from foot to foot. Although he is the leader, it’s not a particularly sax-heavy performance. It’s dramatic, suspenseful, and string heavy, with a bass & cello standoff, going tremolo.

The melodies are thoughtful, even kind of fun, but still original. Tasteful. Not catchy, but lovely and palatable. Upbeat. All the while, it's so hard not to watch that delightfully bizarre drummer!

Ceccaldi (in the good pants) is sporting the Human League haircut: the classic Phil Oakey. It suits him. One particularly wild violin solo elicits a "Wow!" from somewhere behind me. He’s quite the showman, thrusting his mop all over the joint. He's a madman. They're all mad. It's rare to see a bass clarinet, even rarer to see one played as soulfully and passionately as Hélène Duret. It soars through the night.

The strings are brilliant. Classical interludes amongst the jazz are like a drizzling of warm, spiced honey. At one point, Ceccaldi plucks his violin like a lil' ukulele. Vincent Courtois’s cello solo is intense and high pitched reaching moments of pathos. The bass clarinet is so breathy and deep in contrast to the higher pitched notes of the cello. It’s a great dichotomy, whereas normally these roles are reversed: the clarinet’s timbre traditionally plays the higher frequencies, well above the lower tones of the cello. Lucaciu’s bass solo is patient, harmonic, resonant, commanding, building, and thunderous.

THE END - “Why Do We Mourn?”
Main Stage 

Photo by Matthias Heschl

Sofia Jernberg - voice

Kjetil Møster - clarinet, tenor sax, electronics

Mats Gustafsson - flutes, baritone sax, live electronics

Anders Hana - baritone, bass guitar, langeleik

Børge Fjordheim - drums

Dominant electric bass plus more rocky drums with two brain-melting saxophonists. This is free jazz pure. Throwing the sax skywards, Mats is an exhibitionist. Anders Hana has longish, rock-star hair, which is fitting for an electric bassist. Sofia Jenberg joins in unison with sax #2, providing an organic, textural element which compliments the quartet naturally and logically.

Her singing is full of dramatic scats, wails, and cries. But it is much more controlled- she is invoking some kind of wild spirit, but she is a vessel for its song.She translates their otherworldly message as a human interpretation, presenting it for us mere mortals that we may attempt to comprehend.

The saxophone squarks and her bird-like calls are a fitting match for each other. At one point the combination of bass sax and clarinet together imitate the sounds of a bowed upright bass.

The music verges on metal in its rough, doom-like nature. Hints of Black Sabbath on some of the darker riffs are complemented by the red and black light show. The electric bass also contributes heavily to the overall grit and grunt of the vibe. Great for headbanging and throwing devil horns with the hands. Fitting that they are called "The End." Apocalyptic. Instrumentally, this group is a great match with each other – certainly not a band for the casual jazz enjoyer. This stuff is HEAVY. Occasionally Sofia's voice ventures into the realm of child soprano, fragile but trained. It's a gift to be able to switch into this timbre of innocence. Not something that can be taught.

It's been a long day and some people are starting to feel the weight of the intensity. The melodic lap steel and crescendoing electro effects, combined with malletting drums and harmonica are too much for some. Granted it's 12:30 AM. Some of the slower songs are a bit lethargic after such a hot day, and while they are still resonant, and well executed, it’s a bit sleepy. Nothing against the performers or the work - some folks are rocking to the beat and even tapping their feet along, so it's certainly connecting with those with which it is meant to connect.

Again, the bass sax is hurled skyward, producing a screech straight from hell; harrowing, and genuinely frightening. The mood is foreboding. It's certainly powerful, but it's a lot, this late at night. Now they bring out the flute and for some people this is the breaking point. For those who leave, someone from the perimeter swoops in and steals a front row seat.

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Etienne Nillesen - en (2024, Sofa)

 

By Sarah Grosser

If you are the kind of person who is excited by the idea of a guy sitting at a snare drum and running objects around the perimeter to produce a whirring tone, you are about to lose your collective shit. If not, keep reading anyway - yes, it sounds zany, but rest assured, this is not a release you are going to want to sleep on in 2024.

Etienne Nillesen carefully runs percussive mallets that resemble elongated Chupa-Chups and other different objects along and around the snare head, the vibrations of which result in a tone which drones continuously. Deeply concentrated, he achieves a zen-like state to produce a pure sound, metallic, and soothing. There is something about the reverberations of the constant kinetic movement which is both intimate and addictive: we are invested, sharing this journey of focus with him and we need to hear what happens next.

It’s an endurance piece with occasional silent breaks for effect, but also presumably, to switch sticks/mallets/whatever. These moments are like resting phases between performing an exercise routine. A chance to sit and just allow the heart to relax before the next phase of activity.

So often projects like these suffer from pretentiousness, especially in the liner notes. Thankfully for en this is not the case. Nate Wooley's thought-provoking written additions are an invitation to join the universal “quest for silence," claiming that Nillesen has found it. “But will we make the effort? Are we strong enough? And are we wild enough to be unafraid of what we may unlock?” It’s not so much about the literal moments of silence, moreso the respect for the silence required to really open one’s ears; to take the time to sit and simply absorb what we hear.

There is really no better way to consume the en experience than by sinking into your favourite chair, putting on a great pair of headphones, cranking the volume up to 11 and closing your eyes. The act of listening is as meditative and as concentrated as the method required to produce it. One feels a connection - a knowing, trusting bond amidst the tension. In keeping with the minimalist aesthetic, the record contains only one track, commanding the listener to consume it the whole way through. Runtime is around half an hour. Even the very name of the record is minimised: the two uncapitalised initials of the artist.

Cover artist Eva Jeske collaborated with Nillesen in 2022 on a work entitled “i will keep drawing circles until it becomes a picture." From her website: “an installative composition and performance for an electronically augmented snare drum and spatially distributed quadraphonic snare drum speakers.” The piece is a painted circle which appears to have been painted to mimic the motions of Nillesen’s technique, layering circles on top of circles “until it becomes a picture." But this work is not the one depicted on the cover - this is “Membrane;" an imprint of one of Nillesen’s own drum heads, picking up on fine details in physical texture, crackling pathways in stoney grey, like a drop of water on hot cement. Apt? You betcha.

The subtle nuances in sonic texture, overtones, and kinetic “whistling” are earthy, rich, and as varied as wind through the trees. It is primal, grounding, and without getting too esoteric, some might even go as far as to call this “spiritual.” Certainly ritualistic, and vaguely metallic. Mechanical in execution, but performed by a human (or is he?) Intimate. Public. Private. Introspective. Outrospective. There is a lot of dichotomy at play for an LP with such a basic premise. It’s the whole package deal: A simple idea, well rounded from top to bottom, and perfectly executed. But where to from here? It’s hard to imagine how Nilleson could develop this skill any further - the 30-minute runtime of en feels just sufficient. Should one feel the desire to reconnect with his technique then there’s always the opportunity to replay it… but why get ahead of ourselves? For right now, we have this, and for right now there is nothing quite like it… and to top it all off, the cover is lilac.

Simply remarkable. 

 

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Paul Lovens 75 - Cologne, Loft, 9/1/2024

Photo by OhWeh

By Martin Schray

In recent years, things have gone quiet around Paul Lovens, one of the great drummers of European free jazz. His body has been bothering him (knees, back, hands), which was the reason why he decided that it no longer made sense to play live a few years ago. On the occasion of his 75th birthday in June, Hans Martin Müller, the man behind the Loft in Cologne, asked himself how the man could be honored and it turned out that this could be done as part of the Cologne Jazzweek. Müller - as he explains in his introduction - met Lovens in Aachen (Lovens’s home town) in the 1970s and, after founding the Loft almost 35 years ago, Lovens played there time and again. For the concert Müller coordinated the musicians who played at the Loft in Lovens’s honor with Lovens; all of them had played with the drummer at some point (with the exception of Michael Vatcher). And before the concert finally started, Müller said the crucial sentence: “Paul Lovens never had his own band under his name, but he made every band he played in better.“ Frank Gratkowski (alto saxophone and bass clarinet), Tobias Delius (saxophone, clarinet), Florian Stoffner (guitar), Philip Zoubek (piano), Wilbert De Joode (bass) and Michael Vatcher (drums and percussion) played in his honor. However, this was not supposed to be a sextet, but two trios. 

The basic idea for both trios was that the musical focus should be more of a chamber music style. Philip Zoubek, Frank Gratkowski and Michael Vatcher started off with a strong 20-minute set. Their three pieces in total were characterized by the above-mentioned rather chamber music-like playing style, which they didn’t maintain continuously - on the contrary. It was a constant alternation of spherical, meditative passages (especially with Gratkowski on bass clarinet), hard sections with harsh staccatos from Vatcher and almost what you could call classic free jazz of the old school. Extended playing techniques played an important role for all three on that night (Zoubek on the prepared piano, Vatcher on the singing saw and Gratkowski sometimes stuffs a glass of water into his sax).

The second set was then performed by Delius, Wilbert de Joode and Florian Stoffner. The music of this trio also thrives on the contrasts in improvisation, which - as with the trio before - blend together almost perfectly (which is all the more interesting because Stoffner has never played with Delius and de Joode before). This trio, however, places a somewhat stronger emphasis on the melodies, with Delius in particular repeatedly interspersing real swinging solos and de Joode also providing rather tender support, while Stoffner’s playing on this evening clearly shows how much he is obviously influenced by Derek Bailey (which is meant as a compliment). The whole thing is at its best when all three accelerate, Delius shouting into his sax, de Joode stroking the bass and using it like a rhythm guitar while Stoffner let the harmonics rain down. In these moment the trio sounded like some projects of the legendary British Incus label. It was as if you were listening to a swarm of insects in a dead tree stump. All in all a great trio that hopefully hasn't played together for the last time.

Anyone who would now like to see Paul Lovens once again and listen to music in his honor can still do so. On September 8 at 6 p.m., Sebi Tramontana (trombone) and Florian Stoffner (guitar) will be playing at the Musikbunker in Aachen. Paul will also be there.

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Dave Rempis / Tashi Dorji - Gnash (Aerophonic, 2024)

By Martin Schray

The regulars on our website know that I am a fan of Dave Rempis and all his projects. But that doesn’t mean I’m uncritical. However, the Chicago-based saxophonist always manages to surprise me - be it with an unforeseen band line-up or with unusual sounds and textures. On Gnash, it’s more the latter. Rempis and Tashi Dorji, the man on the guitar in this duo, are two thirds of the fantastic trio Kuzu and have come together on this album for an intense jam session informed by free jazz, psychedelia and modern minimalism. The links between the city’s jazz community and post-rock, folk, electronic music and the avant-garde can easily be traced in their work.

The piece that got me on Gnash is “Orphic Hymn“, on which Dorji put his love for folk music and his Bhutanese background to the fore, combining it with blues and psychedelic rock influences. For almost five minutes, he dreams himself into his own musical universe before Rempis enters with an oriental-sounding riff. Dorji, however, sticks to his chosen path and spreads out further pads, giving the music a trance-like quality. It brings back memories of the 1960s, when AMM were on tour with Pink Floyd or when Miles Davis jammed with rock musicians. Anything seems possible in this duo too, boundaries become blurred, especially when both turn the intensity screw in the middle of the piece and Dorji then introduces barrel organ-like sounds. Here, the duo’s music is close to neo-psychedelia bands such as Spacemen 3 or crossover projects like Spring Heel Jack.

Rempis and Dorji have started playing together since 2017 “when they first came together as a duo on the extensive solo tour that Rempis undertook across the US that spring. Performing together in Dorji’s hometown of Asheville, the two spurred one another on with back-to-back solo sets that ratcheted up the fire, before coming together in a shared union of volcanic proportions“, as the liner notes say. The basis of the recordings here was Rempis’s month-long residency at Chicago’s legendary Hungry Brain club and a follow-up gig at Milwaukee’s Sugar Maple club. Rempis and Dorji took advantage of the sold-out atmosphere and channeled the audience’s energy and enthusiasm to bring out the best in them.

“Ask for the Impossible“, the longest piece on the album, is an example of this. Everything about this piece is communication, both musicians bring everything they can to the table: Hard, choppy duels, brutal intensity, hard-hitting breaks in the playing style; tender, almost ballad-like musical embraces, spiritual outbursts, the grand gesture combined with the will for ultimate silence.

What finally needs to be mentioned is the fact that this album features Dave Rempis on soprano saxophone for the first time, an instrument left to him by his friend and mentor Mars Williams when he passed away in November 2023 after years of battling cancer. This is another innovation that promises excitement for future recordings.

Dave Rempis and Tashi Dorji show on this album that musical pigeonholes do not exist for them, they create something new with their available material. It is a pleasure to listen to them.

Gnash is available on CD and as a download.

You can listen to it and order it here:

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Travis Laplante - Sunday Interview

Photo by Jan Gates

1. What is your greatest joy in improvised music?
   
   Improvising has taught me how to heighten my senses so I can respond more fully to life in a given moment. This goes beyond music-making.    It is this feeling of presence in the unknown that makes me feel more alive, vulnerable, and joyful.    Improvising has also greatly assisted me in how to love others through listening, responding, and finding points of human connection.
   
   
2. What quality do you most admire in the musicians you perform with?
   
   Although I admire the unique qualities that each musician carries, the attribute that’s probably most important for me in a collaborator is the ability to give oneself to the collective sound and put the music and connection between each other before themselves.    I admire people who perform without the desire to prove anything or impress other people.    I gravitate toward working with people who carry a serious devotion and keep the music itself at the core of their being, regardless of external recognition. 
   
   
3. Which historical musician/composer do you admire the most?
   
   I could name so many, but the person who comes to my mind in this moment is Hildegard Von Bingen.
   
   
4. If you could resurrect a musician to perform with, who would it be?
   
   I don’t want to resurrect the dead! 
   
   
5. What would you still like to achieve musically in your life?
   
   I mostly practice the philosophy of “a day at a time” without thinking about external achievement, and instead do my best to trust life and follow what I feel most passionate about.    These days the main “achievement” for me is to have time, space, and energy to keep going deeper into the bottomless well of music, keep opening my ears, and to continue learning.  In this way I hope to have more to offer to others as I get older.    Perseverance itself is a great achievement.    I also hope to give all that I know to at least one person before I die.
   
   
6. Are you interested in popular music and - if yes - what music/artist do you particularly like?
   
   I enjoy many different kinds of music, including popular music.    My earliest musical memory is listening to Queen while I was in a crib.    I also listened to a lot of Genesis, U2, Super Tramp, Stevie Wonder, Madonna, etc. before I began playing music.    These days I don’t feel connected as much to popular music compared to when I was a kid but I still listen to the current hits for my own awareness. 
   
   
7. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
   
   The one thing that I might wish to change the most is my relationship to time.    This is something that I have been working changing for some time but it still needs work!    I often feel like there isn’t enough time which feels disrespectful to life and I would like to remedy this.    I would like to step outside of my all-too-aggressive relationship to time and instead have a relationship that is more in alignment with the deeper rhythms of the Earth, the seasons, and myself.    I feel like if we were able to live more in accordance with the rhythms of our creativity, this could yield music that is closer to the heart.    It’s very difficult as an artist to leave the belief and collective illusion that the busier we are, the more successful we are.    Most of us are struggling to make a living so this adds another component to spreading ourselves too thin, but I find that our relationship to the music can sometimes suffer because of it.    I realize that there isn’t a magical solution to this externally, but I feel like there are other possibilities within myself.    On the other hand, I often have an abstract sense that I still have a lot more work to do and that I don’t want to die until it’s complete.    This feeling creates a general sense of urgency in my life.    Although I think there is truth in this feeling and that it’s good to live life as if one isn’t going to live forever, there is a fine line between this and living in fear and stress that there isn’t enough time.
   
   
8. Which of your albums are you most proud of?
   
   I’ve released albums steadily, with an average of one album every year since 2010.    However, this hasn’t been influenced by external superficial voices that I need to keep releasing things to stay visible or relevant.  Each project has carried meaning and has been something that I’ve worked extremely hard on.    The few exceptions have been fully improvised albums Tunnel to Light, Ancestral Instrument and Secret Meeting .    These albums were simply documents of exceptional improvisations that I wanted to preserve through time and share with others.    I usually feel most proud of whatever I’ve most recently completed since it feels the most relevant to where I’m at the given moment.
   
   
9. Once an album of yours is released, do you still listen to it? And how often?
   
   I often obsessively listen to my albums during the mixing and mastering process, which I’m almost always involved in.    Once an album is released I’ll listen to it once or twice and then usually have to focus my attention elsewhere.    I revisit older albums now and then.
   
   
10. Which album (from any musician) have you listened to the most in your life?
    
    There was a period of about a year while I was in high school when I listened to John Coltrane’s Transition on repeat every night while I slept.    I can safely say that I’ve listened to that album over a thousand times.
    
    
11. What are you listening to at the moment?
    
    I’ve been listening to a lot of emo and post-hardcore music lately like Thursday, Saves the Day (early albums), Pool Kids, and On The Might of Princes.    I’ve also been listening to Edgard Varèse’s symphonic works, Juri Seo’s Toy Store, and the Stories for a Living Future Podcast.    In addition, I listen to Guy Gavriel Kay’s books on tape while exercising.
    
    
12. What artist outside music inspires you?
    
    One artist who I greatly admire outside of music is artist Sarah. H. Paulson.    I’m biased since she’s my favorite person in the world, but she’s genuinely inspired me by her uncompromising relationship to her work and how she gets out of the way for the brush strokes or words to move through her, onto the page.    She has the ability to self-reflect and critique her own work in an extremely honest way, and she only creates work when she feels called to.    Sarah has managed to exist outside of most of the superficial aspects of the art world while still maintaining a rigorous practice that is continuously evolving.    Check out her work www.sarahhpaulson.com 

Travis Laplante on the Free Jazz Blog:

• When ancient art inspires modern sounds
• Travis Laplante -Wild Tapestry (Out Of Your Head Records, 2022)
• Battle Trance - Blade of Love (NNA Tapes, 2016) *****
• Sax Trios Galore ...
• Battle Trance - Palace of Wind (NNA Tapes, 2014) ****
• The Resurrection of the Audio Cassette????
• Little Women - Lung (AUM Fidelity, 2013) ****
• Little Women - Throat (AUM Fidelity, 2010) ****

 

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Reza Askari ROAR ...

Reza Askari ROAR feat. Christopher Dell (QFTF, 2022) 

Reza Askari ROAR feat. Christopher Dell - Zen World Cables - (Boomslang Records, 2024)

 

By Sarah Grosser

 

Reza Askari (bass) and Christopher Dell (vibes) are both professors. It’s not something that they parade about, but the level of elite musical education between these two is beyond impressive. Suffice to say, they take their shit very seriously. In 2022 Dell teamed up with Askari’s Trio “ROAR" to release a collaborative album, the success and chemistry of which spawned a follow up release, 2024’s Zen World Cables.

Fans of Christopher Dell’s work with DLW (Dell Lillinger Westergaard) will be familiar with his architectural approach to musical structure - a sound that is recognisable when listened to, but, at least for this journalist, somewhat clumsy to try and describe. Details about complexity, texture, frames etc. are far better outlined by the band in their liner notes . If you like what you’ve heard before, you will enjoy this too, as Dell is clearly in his element among the highly talented trio of Askari, Stefan Karl Schmid (clarinet, tenor sax), and Fabian Arends (drums).

The first album consists of mainly improvised atonal works, with bursts of melody just to keep you guessing, and a mixture of different tempos from plodding, meandering swing ballads through to more extreme, fast freak-outs. It contains a number of individual pieces, which is in contrast to the second album (Zen World Cables); an extended piece later split into tracks. The premium listening experience for ZWC is to let it run from start to finish. The track lengths on the first album average out at about 3:50 each, but on ZWC the durations are more sporadic, ranging from just 19 seconds to over 7 minutes. The tracks themselves are borderline superfluous, as the changes are not something you would notice in a live setting, or even a listen through at home.

The titles are also slightly less colloquial on ZWC - the debut featuring subject matter such as “Wheelchair Weed,” and (a personal favourite) “FCK.THT.SHT.ND.MK.MSC,” but just because they are less colloquial doesn’t mean they are any less fun; while “Desayuno Nica” might sound like the name of an exotic desert island, it is in fact, a standard Nicaraguan breakfast of eggs, rice and beans, and a slice of soft cheese.

Highlights include Dell’s 19-second solo “Interceptor:” a masterclass in vibraphone, in and of itself. Aside from the totally inhuman speed at which he can play, there are, (amidst a myriad of other impressive techniques) also subtle variations in reverberation, executed at precise moments to create a faint swooping, reverse-pedal effect. The thing is, it all happens so quickly, you’ll be skipping back to hear it again; one of the only benefits of having a recording versus seeing his unforgettable live performances in the flesh.

It’s all very complimentary: Arend’s skittery drumming style supports Askari’s intuitive, quick thinking on bass and vice versa, while Schmid’s conversations on sax and clarinet fit effortlessly among the quartet. There is no question about the musicianship of the players here.

Much of the music is quite busy. One would know very quickly whether or not this was going to be an album “for them.” With the level of academia generating the bulk of the sound, one might question whether or not a Ph.D. is required to fully enjoy the minutiae and levels of complexity at play. Surely there would be benefits that arise from a deeper understanding of the relationships between the instruments, the modi, and the architecturally-inspired musical structuring and so on, and so forth… but is it a requirement to "be smart" to be able to get something out of a record like Zen World Cables?

Well, let’s put it this way: If you prefer sweet catchy melodies, standard hooks, predictable returns to the head after a little soft noodling, steer well clear. These albums demand attention. They cannot simply be "on in the background." If you love to be challenged by music, to be fascinated by it, this is going to be right up your alley.

Music aside, one cannot go past the stunning packaging and artwork by Kristina Brauweiler. Both albums, while distinct in palette, contain consistent design themes indicating clearly that the two albums are companions. A signature “pop” of contrasting colour on each CD disk makes for a real “wow” factor when opening the gatefold, but it is the vinyl editions that really steal the show. The intense, translucent, orange wax of the first album is beautifully aesthetic, but the Zen World Cables marbled black and deep petrol-green is so gorgeous it can’t be captured by a photograph. The pictures on Reza’s Instagram don’t do justice to how impressive the marble effect looks in reality, how intense the dark turquoise colour of the wax is, and how it illuminates when held up to a light.

Satisfying in the hands, satisfying on the ears - two worthy additions to any contemporary collection. Here’s hoping for a third. 

 

 

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Ivo Perelman & Fay Victor - Messa Di Voce (Mahakala Msic, 2024)

By Sammy Stein

I wrote a piece for Reader’s Digest a year or two ago titled “10 Female Musicians You Should Get To Know”. One of these was Fay Victor, who coincidentally was interviewed for FJC’s Sunday interview in August. Her voice is an instrument of delight. So to find Victor featured on this album in my inbox from Perelman was a joy. Perelman has collaborated with only two vocalists, Flora Purim, and Iva Bittova. Here, the mastery of Victor pushes Perelman to explore even deeper, the wealth of musical discovery, he has made – and it is easy to believe he also makes a few new connections. The album also has the supremely creative rhythm section of Joe Morris and Ramon Lopez. Victor has worked with Anthony Braxton, Randy Weston, Wadado Leo Smith, Nicole Mitchell, Daniel Carter, and more and her ‘Freesong’ approach has shown her as an individualistic, creative vocalist. Joe Morris brings his blend of African and jazz-rooted music to his bass playing and Ramon Lopez is a jazz drummer familiar to many for his multicultural cadences.

To find four musicians of such calibre on one recording is a rarity. To discover they blend and merge so well, with Victor’s vocals adding nuances almost impossible on any other instrument, is a delight. Messa Di Voce (which means placing the voice in Italian) could not be a more appropriate title because Victor understands how to use her voice as an instrument in as precise a manner as anyone plucking or bowing a string or striking a key. And the other musicians understand how to utilise the depth of Victor’s voice to the best, allowing her to express its full range and versatility.

Perelman, ever the organic grower musically, has placed these three musicians together and cast his net across using his sax lines to link, and his musical suggestions to inspire. The notable similarity between the range of the female voice and that of the upper sax registers is clear along with the possibilities for complimentary phrases and contrast. At times on Track I-One it is possible to imagine the sax and voice as one and at others, the point where they diverge and separate is difficult to discern. Victor’s pitching is profound and vocalising as she is against Perelman who, as ever, introduces unexpected musical dalliances into the melodic lines, veering off along pathways of his invention, and leaving Victor to follow, is a feat most vocalists might not relish. Victor, however, is no ordinary vocalist and she counters and enhances Perelman’s musical deviations, at times re-taking the creative mantle, causing Perelman to backtrack and re-engage. In the middle section, there is a lovely, phrased section where Victor hums a tune that Perelman picks up and distorts – creating an adaptive, creative response. Lopez sets up furious rhythmic passages in the closing stages as Victor flows freely, allowing her impressive voice its full range.

The tracks follow much the same pattern, but there is never a sense of repetition or over-familiarity. Perelman is pushed by the vocals and introduces sounds he has not played for some time, such as on track I-Two, where he blasts and growls rhythmic patterns while Victor pushes out equally extreme vocalisations, creating a depth of intuitive sound, which feels like two musical titans leaning into each other at times, and slightly demonic at others.

There are some beautifully worked sections, like the swinging phrasing briefly held by the sax on track I-Three and the guitar phrases on that track. Familiar jazz elements ooze over trickling, intricate vocals. The opening on track I-Four sounds big-band with the vocals exuding emotion. The structure of this eighteen-plus minute track is exceptional, and the listener is never lost, yet somehow catapulted from one extreme effect to another. Many tracks make the most of the rhythmic potential and adaptability of the voice, with Victor offering her punctuation and percussive elements at times counteracting the rhythm section of Lopez and Morris. II-Three is an impressive blend of culturally diverse rhythms and vocalisations.

As ever, the numbering of the tracks is a mystery with the album being divided into two parts, but the tracks are also numbered in numerical order from 1 to 9 and vary in length from just over five and a half to over eighteen minutes.

Gathering his components around him Perelman, the constant gardener of music, plants elements to create colours, patterns, and striking contrasts, that work to create a glorious, colourful, emotionally packed musical landscape for the listener. Given Perelman’s kinaesthesia, it is no wonder he can weave intricate patterns of depth and warmth, using subtle hues and big, striking episodes of intensity.

Four stellar musicians, with Perelman as a guide but not leader in the ‘follow me’ sense, but more in the ‘let’s see what works if I do this’ sense and with heavy attention paid to the incredible instrument of Victor’s voice, this is simply beautiful.

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Mats Gustafsson / Liudas Mockūnas- Watching a dog. Smiling. (NoBusiness, 2024)

By Martin Schray

Reeds duos are complicated, and writing about them even more so. Musically, we actually have two solo instruments that are sound-wise close to each other, i.e. there are hardly any textures against which one of the instruments can stand out. When writing about it, it’s easy to fall into platitudes or obvious comparisons, e.g. that the duets sound like you’re listening to a dialog between songbirds (I’ve succumbed to this temptation, too). But on their first duo album Mats Gustafson and Liudas Mockūnas make it easy not to fall into this trap.

First of all, these two real warhorses of the NoBusiness label sound very different, which can be seen in the choice of their instruments. Here, Gustafsson is on the flute, the slide-flute, baritone sax and live electronics, while Mockūnas can be heard on several high saxophone types like sopranino, soprano, reedless soprano and overtone sax (but also on bass saxophone and contrabass clarinet). Excitement through stark contrasts is therefore guaranteed from the outset.

Of course, there are also the reeds duels, such as the title track, in which Gustafsson on the flute engages in a kind of race with Mockūnas’s high saxophones, or “Cold talk. From the side.“, in which the two musicians on baritone and bass sax yell at each other in an almost painful way. However, the most interesting tracks are “More sad than love. Is life.“ and “An urge. Of nothingness.“, because on these two pieces Gustafsson uses live electronics - and he does it in an almost ultra-brutal way. In the first track, he initially sounds like a sputtering engine making a cold start, while Mockūnas still plays around these sounds hesitantly and cautiously. Over time, Gustafsson increases the speed of the engine noises, only to then completely overdo it (in a positive sense) and finally reach a crassness that is best known from Aphex Twin recordings such as “Come to Daddy“. You feel like you’re standing in a tin hut with a hurricane raging around you. Mockūnas is the man screaming for help in this hut. In “An urge. Of nothingness.“ the live electronics are not audible at first, they lurk in the background and then provide the dark surface for an intense, gloomy saxophone solo. But while the sax then falls silent, the rumbling wall of noise remains and is what we hear at the very end.

Watching A Dog. Smiling is a raging hell ride that makes no attempt to conceal its darkness. But this is precisely where the album’s appeal lies.

Watching A Dog. Smiling is available on vinyl in a limited edition of 300 and as a download. You can listen to it here:

 

The vinyl version is sold out at bandcamp and NoBusiness, but there are some copies available on the internet, for example at Trost Records.

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