Summer Bummer in Focus

At the end of this summer, the Free Jazz Blog will be heading to Antwerp to check out the Summer Bummer festival. Held over the last weekend of August, it's been on our 'bucket list' of festivals over the past few years as its reputation has leaked across the ethers. Today, we present an interview with programmer Koen Vandenhoudt, about the festival's origin and concept ... but first a short impression of event from the festival itself:

Paul Acquaro: How did the very first edition of the festival come into being?

Koen Vandenhoudt: The first edition of Summer Bummer came into being as the celebration of 25 years of Freakscene, my radio show at Antwerp’s Radio Centraal, so originally it was Freakscene’s Summer Bummer. But even then it was a combined effort of music enthusiasts, supportive artists and a lot of volunteers that made and still make it happen.

PA: What do you think distinguishes your festival from others in Europe?

KV: We work purely by content, and though we pioneer many artists and give chances to lesser known and emerging artists, we go less by trends or commercial choices. At Summer Bummer we often present artists in constellations that have never happened before or that are brand new. That’s super exciting but hard to promote. People want the hear and see things before hand. So to see people coming from all over the world to witness this musical adventure, gives us a good feeling. It’s a trust kind of thing built over the years.

Another important thing is that we never do overlaps. We use multiple stages but always make sure that people can see all the shows -- and very important, it’s a community thing, where people can hang out, meet the artists, participate in an installation, enjoy some nice homemade food or score some excellent records.

PA: What guides your programming choices from year to year?

KV: We would like to say the artists and the ever changing amazing music they make. The international network and knowledge we built from within our Sound in Motion organization - volunteers, professionals, artists and like minded organizations - over all the years is pretty vast. This means that from all over the world we are continuously fed with the ins and outs of the music world.

On top of that, we support musicians over the long term, from the early stages, where the artist is new and unknown, to the moment where the international stage starts noticing.

PA: How do you decide when a project is “right” for the festival?

KV: That’s a very subjective process and impossible to pin-point exactly. We sometimes set out a kind of wish list or some minor themes but this very often gets overruled by the sheer quality of surprising offers or by the fact that every day is a day of potential musical discovery. Being able to keep this flexibility, this room to manoeuvre is crucial...

PA: How do you balance presenting established artists with discovering new voices?

KV: Since the first Summer Bummer edition and also in our nomadic concert series, our Dropa House residencies and our Dropa Disc label, we always balanced the older generation with established artists and the up and coming generation. In an age where pioneers of improvised, adventurous and experimental music are rapidly forgotten and disappearing, it’s super important to stage these different generations together. Sometimes we can combine them, like Peter Brötzmann with Farida Amadou and Thurston Moore, or Cel Overberghe with Adia Vanheerentals and Ornella Noulet (60 years of age difference), and Joe McPhee with Mette Rasmussen and Dennis Tyfus is also a good intergenerational and genre defying example. 

And sometimes it’s exemplary of how the past is still more than relevant and moves into the future, like the trio of Barry Guy, Evan Parker, Paul Lytton or the historic duo of Fred Van Hove and Brötzmann. As said earlier we support musicians over the long term. Therefore some artists who are considered established these days still have a strong bond with Summer Bummer and Sound in Motion as an organization. Being able to show how these artists evolve is something very beautiful and exciting to witness. 

This year we have some beautiful examples of this with the world premiere of Rodrigo Amado, one of the hardest working reed players around, in a trio with the legendary bass player/icon Joëlle Léandre and the genre hopping genius drummer and electronics manipulator Gerald Cleaver, not a trio we requested but a proposal by the artists themselves. 

And what to say about one of the all time greats, Alexander von Schlippenbach, who will play this years Summer Bummer in a duo with phenomenal drummer and one of the most prominent representatives of the scene Paal Nilssen-Love, another request by the artists themselves and super exemplary of everything we stand for. And maybe the ultimate example of mixing up generations, gender, established and new artists is the passage at Summer Bummer in 2024 of Fire! Orchestra CBA and Fire! Orchestra CBA Youth. Mindblowing and very inspirational indeed.

PA: Are there artistic boundaries you intentionally avoid—or intentionally cross?

KV: Crossing artistic boundaries is inherent to the invited artists. Creating the platform to cross potential boundaries is the essence of Summer Bummer as a festival and to Sound in Motion as an organization. Just look at this years program and you know what we mean.

PA: What do you hope musicians experience here that they might not elsewhere?

KV: We once published a book with the title Food For Thought asking the artists how they experienced playing for Sound in Motion. One of the answers was: 'Feeling at home away from home.’

We like to think and hope that we are part of a handful of organizations and festivals that actually make this happen. That we can create the perfect environment for artists so they can focus 100% on their craft and artistry.

PA: What do you hope audiences experience here that they might not elsewhere?

KV: That there’s more than just mainstream music, forced upon everyone by mainstream media. And that, unlike mainstream channels will make you believe, it is not by definition difficult music. Even alternative channels struggle with this, shying away or being apologetic when music is abstract or noisy or not following known paths, as if there’s something wrong with it. No, embracing the unknown and enjoying it full on is the way to go.

PA: How do you see the festival’s role within the local music community?

KV: By showing the international dynamic of adventurous, improvised and experimental music and putting local musicians in the spotlights, introducing them first hand to international mainstays the Summer Bummer Festival tries to open international doors and opportunities.

PA: What is one thing that we didn't ask you that you think we should have?

KV: Sound in Motion is a nomadic organization, how does that relate to the concert series and the festival, and what's the importance of this within the field of improvised and experimental music and free jazz?

Sound in Motion uses a "nomadic" model that fundamentally shapes both its ongoing concert series and its annual festival. In fields like free jazz, improvised, and experimental music, this structural fluidity is not just a logistical choice—it is an aesthetic and philosophical necessity. Experimental and improvised music has historically suffered from being ghettoized either as purely academic or overly elitist. By refusing to stay inside a traditional, high-art institution, Sound in Motion actively de-academizes the genre. Bringing free jazz into a rock club one week, a community art space the next, or a cultural center the week after meets diverse audiences where they already are, embedding avant-garde sound into the community fabric.

Free jazz and free improvisation are built on the rejection of rigid frameworks, fixed charts, and predictable patterns. As a nomadic organization, Sound in Motion mirrors this artistically. When an organization is not connected to a physical building, it avoids the institutional inertia that forces venues to book "safe," commercially viable acts to cover high overhead costs.The organizational structure is as improvisational, adaptive, and high-risk as the music itself.

Because we must constantly collaborate with different physical venues and artistic spaces, Sound in Motion inherently builds an inter-connected infrastructure. We do not guard our audience; instead, we aim to cross-pollinate with the crowds of the partner venues. This creates a robust safety net for touring experimental musicians, making Belgium a vital European hub for artists who rely on agile, grassroots bookers to sustain their careers.

Find out more about Summer Bummer here.

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Reza Askari Roar Quintet - xAYb v8v dYAx (Boomslang, 2026)

By Eyal Hareuveni

Reza Askari is a German (son of an Iranian-born father and a German mother), Cologne-based double bass player, composer, and educator (he is a professor of jazz bass at the University of Music Wuerzburg). His main band is the Roar trio - with clarinet and tenor sax player Stefan Karl Schmid and drummer Fabian Arend, augmented by vibes player Christopher Dell (who is also an educator who teaches architecture, urban design, and planning) in its last two albums - the self-titled album (QFTF, 2022) and Zen World Cables (Boomslang, 2024). The fifth album of Roar has a cryptic title, xAYb v8v dYAx, and the trio hosts Dell and Canadian trumpeter Lina Allemano (who splits her time between Toronto and Berlin). The album was recorded at Deutschlandfunk Kammermusiksaal in Cologne in April 2026.

Askari was mentored by German double bass players Dieter Manderscheid and Sebastian Gramss, but has played with other innovative double bass players like Barre Philips and Mark Dresser, and is well-versed in the free jazz legacy. But Askari sees the acoustic, unamplified Roar quintet as an improvising modern jazz band that adapts the logic of extreme metal bands with their asymmetrical or symmetrical cycles, collapsing forms, obsessive repetition, abrupt ruptures, and overwhelming physical force. He mentions metal bands like Meshuggah, Car Bomb, the Melvins, and the Dillinger Escape Plan that have a distinct architectural and emotional language that he wanted to transform into a detailed improvisational context.

xAYb v8v dYAx distills the powerful, physical, and constantly shapeshifting rhythmic patterns of metal bands into layered, more nuanced, and spacious yet still restless patterns. Askari, Dell, and Arend sketch complex, polyrhythmic architectures of a modern jazz trio or a chamber music ensemble, while they keep trading leading roles, often reaching surprising reductionist or atonal territories. Schmid and especially Allemano act as free agents who can add disruptive, sometimes even abrasive touches, and they always do so, but thoughtfully and poetically. Allemano’s economic interventions always charge the music with intense, emotional impact. This tension stimulates and enriches the unpredictable, often fragmented rhythmic dynamics of this quintet.

The Roar quintet does not seek to replicate the massive polyrhythmic patterns of Meshuggah or other metal bands, but captures the nervous, punkish rhythmic spirit of such bands. This quintet refuses to subscribe to the common, familiar order and instead challenges itself with shifting contrasts and structural chaos, always questioning, negotiating, negating, and reassembling Askari’s compositions. The code-like, palindromic titles of most pieces intensify that feeling. The outcome is thought-provoking, epic, and makes you return to the album again and again, not to decipher the cryptic titles, but to enjoy its free spirit.

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Flo Stoffner - Bijou (Relative Pitch, 2026)

By Martin Schray

Bijou is a French noun meaning “gem”, “treasure”, or “jewel”. It’s often used in a formal or figurative sense to describe something particularly beautiful, precious, or valuable, similar to the term “gem” when referring to a beautiful house or object. And it’s the title of Flo Stoffner’s new solo album - his first since Norman (Veto Records, 2014). However, it differs significantly from his earlier recordings.

Stoffner has been an integral part of the European free jazz scene for many years. As a guitarist, he ranks among the best in his field alongside Fred Frith, Olaf Rupp, and Noël Akchoté. No wonder - when John Butcher and Paul Lovens choose you as a collaborator it certainly counts as a mark of distinction.

After many duo and trio releases, Bijou highlights Stoffner’s unique style as if he were freed from the constraints of having to communicate with others. “This time, I made short recordings here and there over the course of several months. I deliberately wanted to immerse myself in this process over a longer period of time. For me, it was really all about the process itself, since I learned and discovered so much through this engagement with myself and the instrument. I also wanted to make the very quiet playing styles audible - the ones that are hard to hear when other musicians are playing along”, Stoffner emphasizes. Therefore, Bijou is more purist than the solo albums before, on which he used effects more frequently. On the one hand, it becomes clear that his technique is shaped by the British school, especially Derek Bailey and John Russell; on the other hand, his sound has clearly emancipated itself from his role models. Flageolets are at the center of his style, he contrasts them with hard, individually struck notes. The result is a very open sound, as if a wild ECM album was being played in a DIY style by a post-punk guitarist (e.g., Durutti Column’s Vini Reilly). You won’t find any ethereal lightness here, it’s more like being Nero in the first Matrix movie, dodging the ricochets, which come flying at you not in slow motion, but in real time. The whole thing sounds like a hailstorm descending on an abandoned Tibetan monastery where the chimes have been left behind. This becomes particularly clear in the album’s final track, “Bijou 6.” Amid all the roughness and harshness, a stark beauty flashes through consistently, so that despite its jarring contrasts in high and low flageolets, the piece is reminiscent of ambient music. But even though Stoffner seems to play with a greater sense of freedom, he still feels that it was a major challenge to play without a partner because it was sometimes difficult to get to the point. But don’t worry - on this wonderful gem, he has succeeded without exception.

Bijou is available on CD and as a download.

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Toc + Jean-Luc Guionnet - Quelques idées d’un vert incolore dorment furieusement (Tour de Bras, 2026) *****

By Richard Blute

“Colorless green ideas sleep furiously.”

-A sentence proposed by Noam Chomsky that he claimed was grammatically correct, but meaningless.

In 2015, I attended a concert of the band Kaze in a downtown Ottawa nightclub. Between sets, the musicians were selling CDs, surrounded by a crowd of fans. I picked out a few CDs and was still hunting around when I saw one I didn’t recognize. The print on the back was tiny, the room was dark and I didn’t have my reading glasses. But I figured I’d try my luck and purchased it without even knowing who was on the CD. It was TOC’s album Haircut and it became one of my favorite albums of 2015, and I’ve been an enormous fan of TOC ever since.

TOC consists of Peter Orins on drums, Ivann Cruz on guitar, and Jérémie Ternoy on keyboards. (Peter is also the drummer for Kaze.). On Haircut, TOC creates complex rhythms that are a delight to listen to, with Cruz in particular treating his guitar like a percussion instrument. The rhythms have an almost hypnotic effect which I found fascinating.

I very much liked the idea of adding a saxophone to TOC. They had previously collaborated with Dave Rempis on Closed For Safety Reasons, and that was a terrific album. On this album, Jean-Luc Guionnet proved to be an excellent choice for collaboration. FJC readers will recognize Guionnet from multiple reviews, including a 5 star review for his duo with Will Guthrie, his more recent album with Diatribes, as well as his work with the band The Ames Room.

This album consists of a single 33 minute track, and the band is more than capable of sustaining the listener’s attention throughout the piece. It begins subtly with TOC playing some textural percussive sounds inviting Guionnet to join them. As the rhythms build in complexity, Guionnet’s playing builds in urgency. He plays beautiful serpentine lines, but occasionally sounds like he’s calling out to the others as he plays a single screeching note. As the piece proceeds, Guionnet’s overblowing ratchets up the tension and TOC responds with their own intensity. The last 8 or 9 minutes of this album are pure, thundering bliss.

This is my album of the year so far.

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Fie Schouten, Vincent Courtois, Sofia Borges, Pierre Baux - Open Space (Relative Pitch, 2026)

By Hrayr Attarian

French writer and filmmaker Georges Perec was known for using wordplay to explore identity, loss, and grief. His 1974 book Espèces d'espaces is equal parts essay and prose poetry, exploring the concept of space from an individual bed to the universe. It also serves as an inspiration for one of the most intriguing albums of 2026, Open Space.

On it, veteran French actor Pierre Baux eloquently recites Perec’s writing, and a trio spontaneously creates music inspired by it.

The album opens with “SPACE”. French cellist Vincent Courtois plays muscular refrains, off of which Dutch clarinetist Fie Schouten bounces her plaintive lines. Portuguese drummer Sofia Borges provides the percolating cadence that drives the haunting melody, which not only echoes the essay's words but also goes beyond them. Thus it forms a lyrical fusion of two forms of expression

A cinematic ambiance permeates the entire recording. For instance, on “The Bed and The Room” Courtois and Schouten engage in a tense duet that shows influences of Western classical music. Borges’ crashing cymbals, chiming bells, and rustling brushes add to the mysticism.

The three musicians demonstrate sublime camaraderie, with the focus primarily on the collective performance rather than individual solos. On the poignant absurdist “The Country-Borders”, in response to Baux’s emotive monologue, Schouten lets loose fiery, urgent wails while Courtois bows out crystalline and angular phrases with passion. Borges’ thunderous polyrhythms underscore her bandmates' improvisation and the anti-war message of Perec’s poem. Meanwhile, on “The Letter” the serene ensemble sound is laced with melancholy. Borges contributes soft, jingling percussion that dramatically punctuates Schouten’s languid, undulating clarinet and Courtois’ darkly smoldering cello.

This collaborative record perfectly marries provocative poetry with equally stimulating musical extemporizations. Its singularity, though, goes beyond its structure. Each of the performers brings their idiosyncratic styles and seamlessly overlaps them for a multilayered work that is moving and memorable. Open Space makes for a rewarding listening experience even for those who may not know French.

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The Black Nothing & Anders Filipsen - Midt i en Fremtid (Ilk Music, 2026)

By Eyal Hareuveni

Anyone who has experienced someone close, and especially a young one, who was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, would be familiar with the existential and emotional rollercoaster that awaits all around those ill ones, along with the grief-filled, compassionate yet helpless years to come.

Danish keyboard player and composer Anders Filipsen, the leader of the local experimental, electroacoustic ensemble The Black Nothing, experienced Alzheimer’s disease when his father was diagnosed four years ago. He composed a ten-part suite, Midt i en Fremtid (In the Middle of a Future), about the time he spent with his father, which composed passages, free improvisation, and graphic scores. He says: “This album is the sound of a time when what once was ceased to be, and something new emerged. It is a loving song to the moments we share now – in the midst of all that has disappeared”.

The different parts of the suite function as tableaux of moments marked by gradual decline, filled with silence, relating to the inevitable time when the ill ones can not share their thoughts anymore, repetition, and intensity- a landscape where presence and memory meet in sound. The ten musicians - vocalist Qarin Wikström (who sings in Danish, but the lyrics were translated to English), trumpeter Emil Jensen, clarinetists Carolyn Goodwyn and Jeppe Højgaard (who also plays the flute), cellist Soma Allpas, double bass player and cellist Nils Bo Davidsen, electronics player Mads Emil Nielsen, percussionist Victor Dybbroe, drummer Bjørn Heebøl, and Filipsen on synths - use their idiosyncratic voices to create a unified expression in which individual playing and collective sound merge.

The introspective, reflective, and chamber spirit of this suite emphasizes the vulnerability and the often helpless feelings of attending to those suffering from Alzheimer's when “everything that’s known is gone”, as Wikström sings in the opening piece, “Synker og Stirrerr (Sinking and Staring). “Nelly” captures Filipsen’s father's last memory and gently addresses the realization that when time, with its many memories and experiences, loses its meaning, and all that is left is the present.

The power of this thoughtful, insightful suite lies in its emotional restraint, best expressed by Wikström’s fragile voice, and its kaleidoscopic individual colors, suggesting a nuanced yet abruptly shifting, unstable, and not always comprehensible new reality, faithfully representing life with Alzheimer’s disease. But Filipsen orchestrates this suite not as an expression of melancholy and loss, but as a statement of compassion and love to the most closed ones, and the opportunity to let them go, embraced by their dear ones. Or as he wrote in “I stilhed findes ord (In Silence There Are Words): “...Room for honesty, peculiarity, and unbearable sorrow / Come take my hand”.

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Take a ride with Helicopter ... live at the Loft

Today's Sunday Video is from the power trio Helicopter, which looks to be 2/3 of Free Jazz Blog favorite Gorilla Mask with Simon Camatta in the drum seat. "Brighton" from Camatta is a taut, fist-pumping number that should help get your day started right!

Recorded live at Loft, Cologne Germany, February 23rd 2026 Peter Van Huffel - alto saxophone Roland Fidezius - e-bass Simon Camatta

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Ensembles with electronics: rewiring the imagination

By Stuart Broomer

These are recent and distinguished bands united by the extent to which they’re refined, defined and expanded by electronics, harbingers not of the future but of the immediate present, multiplying and expanding through degrees of transformation, each a legitimate heir to the kinds of informed complexity pioneered by musical outsiders like John Benson Brooks and Sun Ra and literary outsiders like Brion Gysin and William S. Burroughs.

Alexander Hawkins -- No Nation but Imagination (Intakt, 2026) 

 

Pianist/composer Alexander Hawkins has already covered a broad musical spectrum in his career, from Togetherness Music for Sixteen Musicians featuring Evan Parker to Carnival Celestial, his brilliant reinvention of the piano trio with bassist Neil Charles and drummer Stephen Davis. No Nation but Imagination may be his most striking work yet, with a trans-Atlantic quintet that links Chicago-resident flutist Nicole Mitchell and drummer Hamid Drake with British musicians Rhodri Davies, here playing harp and electronics, and turntablist/sound artist Matthew Wright. That’s not a predictable combination, and it immediately lives up to that promise of the unlikely: it’s music that can find a groove, but it’s a groove that hasn’t exactly happened before, suggestive in some ways of the unpredictable musical culture of Intakt label-mates Elias Stemeseder and Christian Lillinger and their Umbra series of recordings.

Liner note author Peter Margasak has traced the project’s complex lineage and associations, beginning with Hawkins’ enthusiasm for the Mandingo Griot Society, a band that Drake played in in the 1970s with Gambian kora master Foday Musa Suso. Mitchell has played with a kora master more recently, the Malian Ballaké Sissoko. Those associations with the harp-like kora triggered the inclusion of harpist Rhodri Davies, who has also worked extensively with electronics, also the arena of Matthew Wright. The resultant ensemble bears a certain resemblance to Wright and Evan Parker’s Trance Map in its integration of acoustic and electronic instruments and processing, the result here a mix of live and studio recordings with further processing.

It’s music that has covered tremendous ground just coming into being, and it’s fascinating how the most exotic of technological procedures admit of a certain alien prettiness, a provocative banality, evident here from the opening “Solo Way Far Gone”: mysterious electronic piano tinkling, at once bearer and judge of the merely pretty, is here elevated by degrees of mystery and alien artifice. The first real group track, “Resolution Each and Every,” suggests that some 1950s exotica by Martin Denny (e.g., “Quiet Village”) has been recovered by some distant and unknown civilization (perhaps Kurt Vonnegut’s refined Tralfamadorians), then altered, expanded and broadcast back to earth, with Mitchell’s flute assuming multiple identities amidst the complex percussion and a certain general wobbling of harp and synthesizer, with the music stretching far beyond the merely exotic. So too does “Mirror No Border”, which bristles with Hawkins’ percussive piano flurries and Mitchell’s alternately piping and soaring lines.

The more extended pieces create increasingly complex spaces. “Lullaby Much Further” combines near silence with a dauntingly mysterious collection of sounds and a complex web of connections, while “Hocket Fierce Peaceful” achieves the contradictory character of its title by setting a flute of almost unearthly tranquility amidst a maze of abstract and decorative electronic keyboards. 

 

Sofia Borges - Rieko Okuda - Peter Van Huffel -- Lagrangian Points (4daRecord, 2026) 

Equally mixed in its combinations of the acoustic and the electronic, Lagrangian Points differs significantly in being a documentary recording of a live performance from Berlin’s Morphine Raum, all the electronic processing going on simultaneously with the acoustic. Sofia Borges plays drums. percussion and electronics; Rieko Okuda, piano, keyboards and electronics; Peter Van Huffel alto and baritone saxophones and electronics.

According to the liner note “ Lagrangian Points are zones of delicate balance where forces align and bodies can remain suspended. In that sense, the trio forms a system of its own: each voice holds and is held by the others, maintaining a moving equilibrium, with enough space left open for the imagination to drift beyond its edges.” That particularly double identity is linked to the presence of electronics employed by each trio member, to the extent that instrumental identities can blur into one another.

The opening “Ghost Currents” initially seems to emphasize Okuda’s electronic keyboards and Borges’ percussion, but within moments the music’s distinctive complexity is apparent, many of the sounds traceable to their acoustic origins, but nonetheless operating in a transformative state, the three elaborating waves of sound that might suggest a wholly electronic extension of an improvising ensemble akin to Cecil Taylor’s trio with Andrew Cyrille and Jimmy Lyons.

“Parallax” introduces a subtle world of discreet electronic distortions, near-invocations of piano strings and metallic percussion all of these combining to suggest alien transmissions from space as well as a distinctly human music. Just as Alexander Hawkins’ electronic webs on No Nation But Imagination can make Nicole Mitchell’s flute seem alien, Van Huffel’s alto here might be purely acoustic at times, yet his aptitude for abstraction is such that his alto suggests something quite different, almost a harmonica, its voice swimming in an electronic maze, until electronic alterations to the saxophone draw it wholly into an intermediate zone floating between the acoustic and the electronic.

With the final track, “Hypnopompia”, Van Huffel’s saxophone initially provides an acoustic line in an alien soundscape, but as the surrounding sound grows increasingly menacing (there is a suggestion of hybrid alien predators), his sound gradually mutates, becoming closer and closer to the world that surrounds him, achieved with a brilliant combination of acoustic and electronic techniques. As Van Huffel moves further towards the electronic, Borges briefly inhabits the acoustic role, but the ultimate group movement will be almost wholly electronic.

These two remarkable recordings together articulate a new terrain, reflective of an increasingly mediated world, one in which the likelihood of deception conditions interpretation, one in which art and its appreciation might increasingly stretch both creative and interpretive acts toward surveillance.

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Abdelnour/Loriot/Meier/Niggenkemper – Et il y aura… (Veto Records, 2026)

By Fotis Nikolakopoulos 

The music made by this quartet possesses agility and versatility at the same time. They move quite easily from organized sounds to more improvised territories, while at the same time the sounds they produce seem fluid like modern composition and edgy as any good improvised, but jazz based, recording. Veto records has done it again, producing extraordinary music that defies boundaries.

Christine Abdelnour plays alto saxophone with long notes and phrases, Frantz Loriot utilizes his viola in many ways, David Meier reserves his bass drum (and some objects) for rhythmic reasons and not, while Pascal Niggenkemper is always a chameleon with his double bass.

The quartet is not in a hurry, takes it’s time to build, like a slow sculpture procession, the sounds and the atmosphere in both tracks of the cd that plays nearly for an hour. Improvising is a way, a path that allows many ways for the players. Here, all four of them choose to follow a path and follow four different trajectories, in parallel, but play in unison at the same time. I could comment that their music derives from the European avant-garde, a term I do not like because it has so elitism within it. But there are times that it is a proclamation of new ideas and of the willingness to explore sonically.

This is the case here with this cryptically titled CD. Both long tracks are open fields of audio explorations that don’t want to be labeled as anything. Only good, adventurous music that cannot be tagged. One of the best for 2026 so far.

Listen here:
 

@fot.isn

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[AHMED] - Play Monk (Otoroku, 2026)

By Ferruccio Martinotti

It was only a matter of time. In the cosmology of our music, one thing was certain: the orbits of Thelonious Monk and [Ahmed] were destined to overlap, after having crossed in the name of Ahmed Abdul-Malik, Monk's bassist in the late 1950s quartet, heard on 1958's Thelonious in Action and Misterioso, as well as on the album with John Coltrane at Carnegie Hall unearthed in 2005. Pat Thomas (piano), Seymour Wright (alto sax), Joel Grip (double bass), and Antonin Gerbal (drums) "make music about (Note: bear in mind this "about" because is the key to almost everything) Ahmed Abdul-Malik, they excavate, re-inhabit, and use a-new the now overlooked documents and fragmentary plans of his mid-20th-century synthetic vision to produce a new jazz imagination for the 21st century. 

[Ahmed] and Abdul share a critical engagement with time, specifically in challenging its linear trajectory and offering sites and modes of synthesis and rupture instead. In their music, fragments of time are scattered and re-arranged in the present". So says the band's official statement, which theoretically should explain everything. Theoretically. Malik (1927-1993), son of Caribbean immigrants, was a NYC bassist, oudist, composer, educator and philosopher, he played with Art Blakey, Earl Hines and Randy Weston and his albums Sahara (1958) and East Meets West (1960) fused aspects of Arabic and East African musics and thought, his committed long-term relationship with Sufi Islam and then-modern jazz and thinking, in revolutionary and vital way. But, as well as honoring these traditions, Malik's straddling, synthetic and inclusive vision is one of the great projects of imagination in jazz. He mixed sounds and ethics, meanings and beliefs in open, experimental ways, without any dogma and this became the true north for [Ahmed]: to visit and re-think his compositions and the process potential in them. This is why we emphasized the adverb "about": neither covers, nor lab experiments in cold musical eugenics; neither free jazz, nor classic (even two super skilled listeners and reviewers like Lee and Fotis, in past reviews, scratched their heads between amazement and ecstasy) but a hypnotic Black Monolith that has cast an enigmatic and fascinating shadow for some years, writing a new chapter destined to remain in the Annals of Music. 

From the very first time we heard them, the immediate reference for us, rather than the music, was the cubist painting, in which we found all the elements expressed by [Ahmed] and vice versa: the break with traditional perspective; the geometric decomposition; the simultaneity of views; the reduced color palette and the use of collage. Art must not portray reality but interpret it, like a cognitive tool, as per cubists’ First Commandment, and Pat Thomas & co. are exactly abiding by that. After 6 albums, (all excellent but “Giant Beauty” and “[Sama’a] (Audition)” are two real, unmissable, t-rex carnivorous records) and a 7-inch, here finally, after having engaged with Monk’s standards in various individual or collective ways, the hesitation is broken and [Ahmed] “Play Monk”: when a title says it all. In 2 CDs recorded in March 2025 at Fish Factory Studios (the same “Sama’a” recording sessions), with a cover photo of the legendary pianist at Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco, portrayed by the lens of Baroness Pannonica de Koenigswarter that alone is worth the purchase of the album, 6 standards (“Bye-Ya/Epistrophy,” “Friday Thirteenth,” “Round Midnight,” “Epistrophy,” “Evidence,” “Oskar T.)” are atomized in the particle accelerator, “transforming each composition into a shifting quantum time artifact. The melodic, harmonic, rhythmic, and spatial gestures of each piece become complex vernacular forms, creating a dialogue in time and a (red)shifting lens through which to view our material present. Into the fissures of Monk’s form, [Ahmed] pour their own play, colliding and dancing with Duke Ellington, Cecil Taylor, Caribbean diasporic music, European improvisation, and Jah Shaka in their pursuit of future music,” to borrow Otoroku’s notes. Too much? If you trust just a little bit in your humble writer: NOT.AT.ALL. As usual, they set out and ride pedal to metal, no self-indulgence or self-referential (or falsely free-form) rotating solos, but a “wall of sound” that Phil Spector would have liked to produce, where more than playing the notes, they use them and the ideas in and about them, as a vehicle for their unique imagination, moving from what they know into new uncharted, creative lands. 

It’s too easy to predict that this album will take no prisoners in our end-of-year Top Tens, but it’s even really hard to imagine what other albums will live up to it. We’d like to close with the words of the great Luke Stewart, certainly much more titled than us, in expressing a reflection on Abdul-Malik and [Amed]: “The journey of self-discovery, communing with the eternal sound. A musician steeped in multiple worlds; oceans apart yet closely connected in ancestral memory. Musicians such Abdul-Malik were able to experience the global community of sound warriors, drawing inspiration from ancient cultures to support personal investigation. The connection was made clear, the music of Africa would certainly influence the African in America despite the atrocities of the Middle Passage, chattel slavery and continued racist violence that sought to sever any connection to the continent. The beauty of Malik’s investigation is this original fusion of new music (Jazz) of the African in America with ancient music of Africa. It is a shining example of collaboration in culture, where the music is allowed to shine for itself. This is the inspiration that is being tapped, being explored in this collaboration where rhythm is the basis for the sound. Just like Malik, [Ahmed] allow the spirit of the collective push the sound as the music develops into exalted chaos. Joy Be Upon Us!”I

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Ballister + Luke Stewart - Clocking the Wheel (Aerophonic Records, 2026)

By Martin Schray

When their latest album Smash and Grab came out, I cheekily claimed Ballister might be the best band in the world. I still stand by that statement, and what could be more fitting for Dave Rempis and his Aerophonic label than to celebrate their 50th physical release with a new recording by that outfit? The only question that came up beforehand possibly was what to do to make it special? The answer was relatively simple: You bring in a real powerhouse to give the whole thing even more momentum. And what could be more natural than inviting a bassist for that? Luke Stewart (of Irreversible Entanglements fame) was practically the obvious choice. However, that also means that the expectations for a recording like this are incredibly high.

For Clocking the WheelBallister could have done what we all love them for: simply mixing up their famous cocktail of high energy music, speed metal, free jazz, and brutalistic power, slap it right in our faces, and everyone would have been happy. And of course they do deliver this mix - but they also present another side. Especially in the first part of this double CD, “Carpet Joint,” Dave Rempis (as always on different saxes) and Fred Lonberg-Holm (cello) trade off so effortlessly for three minutes that you’d think you were at a chamber concert. What is more, they leave room for solos, for example for percussionist Paal Nilssen-Love, who presents rhythms with a Latin American flavor, laying the groundwork for two ballad-like interludes - something we’re not used to hearing too often from the band. However, you immediately find yourself wishing they would do that every now and then. The icing on the cake is an almost Evan-Parker-esque solo by Rempis and a one-minute nod by the band to themselves, to one of their catchiest riffs (if such a thing even exists in this kind of music). In this piece, which the band performs as a trio, we are once again reminded of what makes Ballister so unique: it’s the combination of these very different styles and sounds, the way the dynamics flow into one another, that they so effortlessly blend into a cohesive whole.

Finally, Luke Stewart joins in on “Sauce for the Goose,” the second track that makes up the entirety of the second CD, and you’re faced with a changed band. For bassists, it’s not easy to keep up with Ballister - with the trio’s force, its radicalism, its rawness, its unvarnished authenticity. The band could literally run you over. But Stewart immediately immerses himself in Ballister’s sound, locking in with Nilssen-Love’s drumming to catapult the higher voices of the cello and saxophone forward. His driving energy is like a tightly stretched rubber band - elastic, yielding, flexible, but always with enough tensile strength to bounce back like a trampoline, as the liner notes put it. And Stewart is also given plenty of space to make his mark, whether in duo or solo passages.

All in all “Sauce for the Goose” shows that there is still a lot of potential with the Ballister project. Stewart’s presence draws even more energy out of the other three members, giving rise to new sound combinations (the use of electronics shines through here and there and Dave Rempis, in particular, is almost reinventing himself) and dynamics. After twelve albums, Ballister is far from running out of ideas; the band still has plenty in store. For me, they’re still the best band in the world - at least when it comes to freely improvised music.

Clocking the Wheelis available as a double CD and as a download. You can listen to “Sauce for the Goose“ on the Aerophonic bandcamp site, where you can also order the album:  

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Victor Vieira-Branco’s Bark Culture - The Giant is Awkward (Temperphantom, 2026)

By Brian Earley 

 

The most adventurous music offers an exchange with its listeners. Dedicate time and attention to its often unpredictable operations, and receive a return. For me, when I listen to The Giant is Awkward, the latest release from Victor Vieira-Branco’s trio Bark Culture, the return is as immediate as it is sustained. A feeling of something like exhilaration in the moment, of following master improvisers on their way to a circuitous but directing truth.

 

Victor Vieira-Branco is a vibraphonist and composer who grew up in Brazil, but spends most of his time these days in Philadelphia, that is when he is not touring with Rob Mazurek’s Exploding Star Orchestra or Chad Taylor’s Quintet, which played Big Ears this March. With The Giant, his trio Bark Culture has its second release, the maiden voyage being the acclaimed Warm Wisdom from 2024, and is rounded out by bassist John Moran and drummer Joey Sullivan. 

 

Together, the trio makes music that is angular, surprising, and almost always just off center. The opening track, “Palace,” is a representative example of this. After a slanted theme marked by what sounds like finger pounding by vibes and piano, the music descends into a deep madness with Sullivan and Moran following no particular time or engaging in any semblance of functional harmony. But after several minutes of gleefully wild chaos, the band unifies again, rights itself, and collectively enters a second set of thematic material before leaping into yet one more wall of noise.

 

I should pause to state that this release is made particularly special by the presence of guest pianist Sam Yulsman. Yulsman is one of the engines behind the supreme madness one finds on this album, as he smashes and mashes and slams his piano keys in the sections I find to be most adventurous, most dissonant and wild. He even contributed a composition, the second song “Farce,” which, with its asymmetrical thematic unison of vibes and piano leading into surrounded moments of unhinged sonic rantings, is right at home on The Giant is Awkward.

 

Vieira-Branco is composer of all of the other works here. While his compositions are lovely, the interplay of the musicians is what makes this album move from coherent to something really special. Drummer Joey Sullivan seems to me to have a particularly strong musical relationship with Vieira-Branco, and the two are as likely to play their respective percussion instruments with mathematical precision as they are to respond spontaneously to sudden snare rolls, cymbal crashes, or introverted vibraphone bowing. 

 

And all of this is not to suggest Victor V-B’s compositions are not at times stunningly beautiful. Listen, for example, to the penultimate work on the record, “Panic.” The piece is quiet, introspective, full of tenderness and empathy and, in communicating as much, is not at all what I expect when I think of the word panic. The song seems almost guru-like in this way as it flows in and out of time and traditional harmonies to moments of collective improvisation. Panic is a navigable state here, as marked by beauty as it is by its unexpected torsions, but always as composed and improvised as the day itself.

 

The Giant is Awkward is one of the standout releases of this year for me. Its depth of feeling and spontaneously combustible surprises find themselves one minute collectedly astute, and beard grabbing lunatic raving the next. For all of this work’s intelligence and its musicians technical virtuosity, there is never a moment where I feel the energy is not in service of art or the music itself. And this is the adventure Bark Culture has offered to its potential listeners with this album: follow them with attention and effort, and deep pleasure manifests along the path with wisps of transformation sailing in its sonic wilderness. 

 

The Giant is Awkward can be found here.

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Revisit the Serious Series

Back in December, we covered the Serious Series, a concert series in Berlin that showcases a mix of both local and international free music improvisors.  

The entire series is available online from the venue where the series took place last year, the Exploratorium, in Berlin's Kreuzberg district. Below is a video from day one, where we begin the show with series organizers saxophonist Anna Kaluza and bassist Jan Roder, then followed by pianist Marina Džukljev, bassist Christian Weber and drummer Michael Griener. The night wraps up with saxophonists Evan Parker and Peter van Bergen in an effortless duo:

 

More info here.

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Irarrázabal Together

By Dan Sorrells

Two recent releases showcase the versatility and physicality of Chilean double-bassist Amanda Irarrázabal as she improvises with very different partners.

Amanda Irarrázabal - Imprimiendo (Relative Pitch, 2026)

Imprimiendo is a series of "duets" in which one of the partners remains indifferent and unresponsive—or at least, doesn't respond in the manner you might expect. Amanda Irarrázabal plays her bass along with recordings of churning offset printers made at two printing houses in Santiago, Chile. Improvising along with workaday, nonhuman things calls to mind Günter Christmann and others playing with vacuum cleaners and coffee makers on albums like The Sublime and the Profane. In the liner notes to that release,Elke Schipper suggests that improvising with such sounds—the "profane acoustic environment"—is an act of sublimation. There's an ambiguity here I'm happy to leave unresolved. Are the profane sounds vaulted into the realm of art by being deemed worthy material with which to engage? Or, by "internalizing" these sounds as "emotional and imaginary substance," is it the artist's ability to find self-expression that's being elevated? Are these printing presses mere stimulus, or do they partake in the sublime when joined up with Irarrázabal?

There's a soothing familiarity to the structured sound of the printers: like a sheet of graph paper passing through the drums, it provides an orienting temporal grid. But this structure also marks out the comfortable zone from which Irarrázabal quickly departs. On "Panfletos" she enters tentatively, then assertively, syncopated and dancing around the hiss-click of the presses before moving into feathery bowed overtones. These harmonic explorations of friction and bass push through the obvious rhythmic nature of the presses and draw out the richness in their noise. Still, the printing presses are rhythm. It's interesting to hear the subdivisions buried within their repetitive work. These layers are especially apparent on tracks like "Illustraciones," and as Irarrázabal plays more fervently, the presses seem to respond, her rough texture and volume masking more subtle rhythmic elements while intensifying others. In turn, something about the regularity of the presses amplifies the momentum of her improvisations, like the feeling of speed conveyed by trees as they whip by a traveler's window. This phenomenon repeats itself again and again throughout listening to Imprimiendo : the illusion of change in unchanging elements, driven by Irarrázabal's impassioned performance.

It's not clear to what extent Irarrázabal may have arranged some of the field recordings into collages before entering the studio. Some dramatic interest is created by letting them fade in or out, reappear later, varying their volume. On "Copuchas, entrevistas y más," I had not registered that the hypnotic press had largely dropped out of audibility until it suddenly came roaring back, Irarrázabal drawing jaggedly across the strings. The album ends with Irarrázabal unaccompanied: "En blanco." With its pulsing dynamics and cadent bowing, it's anything but.

Phillip Greenlief & Amanda Irarrázabal - La Verdad Es La Verdad (Mother Brain Records, 2026) 

Moving from Imprimiendoto La Verdad Es La Verdad—duo recordings Irarrázabal made with Phillip Greenlief following a 2023 tour in Chile—it's hard not to think of the album that launched Relative Pitch 15 years ago: Greenlief's duo with Joëlle Léandre, That Overt Desire of Object . Here, as there, Greenlief plays at his usual supernatural caliber, mostly delivered with his breathily fluent tenor tone. He's one of the more remarkable and adept reedmen to come out of West Coast creative music (though nowadays, to my great delight and benefit, he's a fellow Mainer). And, like Léandre, Irarrázabal is a white-hot fusion of voice and arco mastery who obliterates any mistaking of body and sound, creator and creation, as being separate or separable.

Opener "Insomnia at the Zoo" is as restless as its title implies. If it doesn't quite come to crescendo, it arrives at a simmering catharsis, a valve releasing just enough pressure to keep the volatility at the pleasing edge of danger. When speaking about duets, it's easy to treat the music like a conversation, especially music with a strong contrapuntal give-and-take. There's a little of that kind of playing here on tracks like "Riverbeds" (what a metaphor: a broad contour guiding rivulets of water, but with paths not quite predictable). For me, Greenlief and Irarrázabal are doing something more like dance, an elemental synchrony of two bodies attending to their shared sense of movement. There's such focus and physicality in the music—just hear the energy being matched in dynamics and register and density throughout a piece like "Collapse"—that it's often nothing like the operation of reason or speech. Theirs is a bodily listening that goes past brain, straight into limb and throat and back out as sound. On the nocturnal "Later on with Constellations," clarinet and voice wend a rising and falling course together—all the way to an altissimo climax—Irarrázabal's bass a whispering countercurrent beneath. As I listen to their listening, I never hear either player deciding what they'll now "say" in response; instead, they work out the answer to "what's our next move?"

The track titled "Cave Paintings" reminded me of the famous prehistoric paintings in Lascaux. In "The Birth of Art," Blanchot wrote "yet by its nearness and all that renders it immediately readable to us," the work in the caves remains "mysterious as art but not an art of mystery nor of distance." This description transcends Lascaux and feels also like "the truth" of La Verdad: that for all the nearness of these gripping improvisations, for all that feels viscerally "readable" in them, there's a mystery at their center which isn't their end but is instead a ceaseless beginning, igniting our fascination—musician and listener alike.

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Hound Dog Taylor's Hand and Joe Paradiso - The Structure and Dynamics Of Disordered Systems (self, 2026)

By Ferruccio Martinotti

What could an old Mississippi bluesman, a Seattle free band and an MIT scholar possibly have in common? Don't worry, music maps the dots and we'll connect them. As one of the legendary figures of American blues, Theodore Roosevelt "Hound Dog" Taylor was an extraordinary guitarist, interpreter of a stripped-down, rocked-out, hypnotic, emotionally powerful, and wildly energizing sound. His left hand had six fingers, a congenital anatomical trait known as polydactyly, which inspired (don't ask us why…) a sonic wild bunch from the beautiful Northwest. Hound Dog Taylor's Hand (HDTH) formed in Seattle in 2010 with Jeffery Taylor, guitars, percussion; John Seman, double bass, piano, percussion; Mark Ostrowski, drums, piano, percussion; Greg Kelley, trumpet; and Joe Paradiso, custom-designed modular synthesizer. They have performed with the likes of Eugene Chadbourne, Acid Mothers Temple, Jooklo Duo, Lori Goldston, Sir Richard Bishop, Lee Ranaldo, Kinski, Chris Corsano, James Brandon Lewis and Mike Watt: all solid swimmers in our cups of tea. John Seman is a truly interesting, larger-than-life cat. With an academic background at the Oberlin Conservatory and the University of Maryland as an ethnomusician, he joins forces with Mark Ostrowski, ingesting every drinkable musical beverage: Zappa, Black Sabbath, free jazz, Mingus, Stravinsky, Motorhead and more. As a festival organizer, John leaves no stone unturned in the musical field. Together with Mark, modeled on the AACM, he founded The Monktail Creative Music Concern, a collective of composers, musicians and artists based in Seattle, “who thrive on the atypical and demanding; the real weirdo stuff.” Could we ever remain indifferent to a mission statement like that? No kidding. And here we are, the scholar. Joe Paradiso is the other partner in crime, a guy who to define smart is a euphemism. To understand who we are talking about it is more than enough to read the official bio infos. Joe is Professor of Media, Arts and Sciences at MIT, where he directs the Responsive Environments group and serves as the Media Lab's Academic Head. He is a pioneer in the development of the Internet of Things and renowned for work in wearable sensing, energy harvesting technology, electronic music systems and controllers. His current research explores how sensor networks and AI augment and mediate human experience, interaction and perception, encompassing wireless sensing systems, wearable and body sensor networks, ubiquitous/pervasive computing, human-computer interfaces, space-based systems, sensate materials, digital twins in virtual worlds and interactive music/media. And the music? you are certainly wondering. A teenage interest in prog rock switched him to synthesizers, and after moving to Zurich in the mid-70s to study at ETH, Paradiso built his own very epic modular synth from scratch: “I was obsessed with building modules, by the end of my stay I had built over 70 of them”. Photos of his creation are readily available on the web, and we highly recommend you to take a look to see what kind of Leviathan we’re talking about. The paths of the Professor and the Hand cross on this album, the group’s seventh, if memory serves: 38 minutes of turbo charged, free-form intensity, declined in a single suite that envelops us like a Texas Twister. “Reverence for the roots of improvised music meets an unbridled passion to push boundaries, making for a propulsive and unpredictable sound.” “A cosmic soundtrack from an alien film noir playing in a half-remembered dream,” the press releases tell us, and we do trust them, because: 1) they say so; 2) we're addicted to press office definitions, and 3) listening carefully to the record confirms the image's correct focus. For those who have never seen an alien film noir playing in a half-remembered dream, we can say that, as reference points, some of Gustafsson’s Hydros projects, Keiji Haino's sonic spirals and, above all, Sonic Youth’s extraordinary (and criminally underrated) works with icp, the Ex, Merzbow, and their double-CD reinterpretations of Cage, Cardew, Kosugi, Maciunas, Oliveros, Ono, Reich, Slonimski, Tenney, and Wolff, came to mind. We’d dare to add the mighty Hawkind as well. The six fingered hand is definitely worth a listen: the surest of the things.

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Satoko Fujii + Myra Melford - Katarahi (RogueArt, 2026) *****

By Paul Acquaro

This review should not be confused for a scientific study, regardless of how convincing it sounds, after all, it lacks all sorts of the necessary quality criteria for a scientific work. It's not really objective, it has questionable reliability and only I can vouch for its validity, but my results suggest that repeated listening to Katarahi, the duo recording from Satoko Fuji and Myra Melford, makes one a better person. The findings, I think, are very strong, I'd say, they are basically unassailable. When listening, one's thoughts become clearer, empathy increases, and creativity soars. A wonder for sure.

 

Myra Melford and Satoko Fujii have been acquaintances since meeting in the 1990s while Fujii was studying with Paul Bley. Over the following years, the two pianists have met and played many times, though they have released just one recording together, Under the Water (Libra) in 2007, which may seem unusual for two such highly prolific musicians. Fortunately, an appearance in 2024 at the Leibnitz Jazzfestival in Austria, captured the two in a dynamic performance that intertwined composition and improvisation in a seamless, living dialog.

 

Katarahi, which in Japanese is a word meaning a heart-to-heart conversation between friends, lives up to its name. Professional musicianship collides with a palpable personal affinity as the two create a work that captures myriad moments of unbridled joy as well as contemplative introspection. 

 

Opening track, 'Interlude 1', begins with a terse and tense repetitive figure on one piano, the other replies with light tinkling plucks from inside the instrument's soundboard, which then moves slowly outwards, becoming a pensive, slightly dissonant melody. It's expectant and barely resolves before crumbling into 'Signpost', at first equally reserved, but with a slight hint of serious playfulness.

 

Towards the middle of the recording, on 'Chalk', the approach changes. Lush chords lead to a dramatic flourishing melody. The notes stream effortlessly, building excitement and tension before a quick resolution and drop into the start of 'Kaiwa', a sharply syncopated piece with some hard edges and percussive foundations. This leads to even more intensity and shared focus in the penultimate 'IV' and finally 'From Sometime.' During these final two pieces, the intensity mounts with sudden arpeggiated bursts and explosive tonal clusters, until the sudden end, received with enthusiastic applause.

 

From track to track, the music is fluid, logically connected, but easy to get lost in. Elements of classical mix with free improvisation, some moments congeal while others deflect off each other. It does not matter where one jumps in to the recording, it can be equally rewarding to listen start to finish, as is to randomly choose a track. Regardless, one is instantly exposed to effects of the music, and the sympathetic and intuitive music making is infectious.

 

The study conducted here on Katarahi has involved very intense close listening as well as very distracted listening methods. While controlling for nothing by volume, I've listened while chopping onions as well as grading papers. One of which made me cry, and during the other, I felt incredibly productive. In conclusion, this release is completely appropriate listening for wherever you are and whatever your are doing, no matter, you're going to do it better. Katarahi is simply a fantastic album.

Myra Melford also speaks with David Cristol about Katarahi and much more in their interview here.

 

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