Stephen Godsall - Tingling Skin, Buzzing Wires (Jazz`halo, 2026)

 By Sammy Stein

If you think you know what a banjo sounds like, think again. Multi-instrumentalist and composer Stephen Godsall’s Tingling Skin, Buzzing Wires presents the banjo in different ways, accompanied by flugelhorn, tenor sax, Wurlitzer piano, Hammond organ, piccolo, and more. Using combinations of instruments helps Godsall demonstrate the banjo’s potential and how we should perhaps look at this underrated instrument with new eyes and ears. The banjo, in the right hands, is presented as both an ensemble and solo instrument, and Godsall finds impressive methodology to plumb the depths and take the banjo into new territories. The musicians accompanying Godsall on this album do well to assist him on his quest. They comprise Laura Taylor on vocals, Steve Waterman on flugelhorn, Ian Ellis on tenor sax, Richard Godsall on Wurlitzer piano and Hammond organ, Andrew Godsall on drums, and Diane Annear on piccolo with Stephen Godsall on banjo, ukulele, guitar, bass, synths, and percussion. 

Of the recording, Godsall comments, “When I've wanted to highlight a melody in a new piece, I've been drawn increasingly to the banjo. The clangorous tones, rhythmic incisiveness, and relative unfamiliarity give it a stand-out character. It seems to me that the banjo is very underused in modern jazz and improvised music, particularly in Europe. And it's very expressive – different tones, articulations, and string bends.”

The opening track, ‘Erratic’ sets off at a pace. It is a trio for banjo, bass, and hand percussion, with the concept of ‘sprung rhythm’ that combines swing and tempo modulation. Electronics open out the soundscape, with echo effects that shift pitch and speed as they fade away. There is a beautiful quirkiness, both in the reverberation of the banjo and the steadfast bass line that underpins the track.

‘Helium’ is a soft-rock, gentle melodic number with the banjo setting an eight-bar theme, across which the flugelhorn sings. The banjo plays both accompanying rhythmic chords and intricate diversions.

‘Deciduous’ features Ian Ellis on saxophone and is a gorgeous duet between banjo and saxophone – a combination that might not spring readily to mind but works well. The melodic playing of the saxophone, supported by gentle banjo, is beautifully emotive, with Ellis’s unbridled improvisation working wonders.

‘Outside’ features vocalist Laura Taylor and is a number that takes the listener outside to find the wonders of the natural world in all its wonder, the lyrics supported by the ensemble, and an engaging middle section. This track connects us to nature and something bigger. It features the core band of banjo, piano/organ, and drums, and is a new take on the ‘Wuthering Heights’ story, according to Godsall. “Sometimes you have to step outside to see which way the wind blows.”

‘Welsh Highland’ is a journey both figuratively, with train noise at the start to help you with the imagery, and musically, as the ensemble gives the listener a variety of sounds, tempos, rhythms, and colour, evocative of the title. The banjo, played now in melody and now slightly off kilter, adds to the sensation of journeying and being slightly unsure of the destination. The featured element is counterpoint, which emanates from all directions. Gorgeous and intriguing. The woodwind is a delight on this track.

‘Hitting The Small Time’ is aptly named and has drums duelling with the banjo in a collision of riffs, rhythm changes, and worked chording with the bass line underpinning everything. The drum solos are delirious while the banjo counters with its own solos and quirky grooves which develop and eddy back on each other to create spirals of sound.

A duet for flugelhorn and banjo, ‘The Last Hillwalker’ explores the concept of a changing world with the flugelhorn soaring, accompanied by some ‘campanella’ style arpeggios. It is thoughtful, spacey, and the flugelhorn is perfectly pitched to grab and keep the attention of the listener. Waterman uses the ascending rises to give a sense of soaring and rising above, as if to observe the changes from an airborne perspective.

“The Force” develops into a powerful track with drums and bass pitching 7/8 time against 4/4. Godshall’s notes comment that on this track, “the banjo drives chiming chords over the top; imagine a cross between hip hop grooves and Hot Club jazz.” I would not argue with that but would add that the driving lilt and the tripsy timings of the track only enhance the groove.

‘Forest Fugue’ is an interesting combination of strings with banjo, nylon guitar, and ukulele in an acoustic number, which demonstrates another sonic exploration. The clashing sounds create a sound that is at once melodic and gentle, yet simultaneously slightly jarring, with a folksy underlying influence. As a creative piece, it works well and certainly awakens the senses.

“Beacons” has an Eastern feel, with sitar-like vibrations from the banjo and delicately plinked strings alongside steady melodic rolling tunes that change tempo, driving the music forward with relentless energy and alternating emphasis.

‘Sea Song’ is an interesting track combining ukulele with banjo, and the rare combination feels fitting for a song inspired by crashing waves and journeying. There is calm in the music, but also hidden depths and surprising currents to take the listener unaware, with percussive insertions that emphasise the off-beat rhythms of an unpredictable sea.

‘Birthday Yodel’ closes out the album and is a play on the familiar number of ‘Happy Birthday’ but with ukulele and banjo trying various yodelling techniques in a jokey combination of traditional English and Austrian tunes.

This album proves the banjo fits just as well into an ensemble as it does when it is a solo instrument. It is an experimental album that works a treat in most places and is a find and a half for anyone who wants to explore combinations of instruments and the banjo. It elevates the humble banjo to new heights and is fun and intrinsically musical.

Godsall describes the album as ‘the shock of the banjo untamed,’ and with that, I might argue because the instrument is in the hands of this explorative musician, and he has worked with understanding and equally explorative musicians.

Together they create musical soundscapes that take the listener beyond this world and into who knows where with a mind more open than before hearing the music.  

The album includes extensive sleeve notes and artwork illustrating the story behind each track. Available on Jazz Halo Bandcamp

The Messthetics and James Brandon Lewis - Deface the Currency (Impulse!, 2026)

By Martin Schray

This band, where alternative rock, jazz rock, and free jazz have ultimately met, is still a match made in heaven. James Brandon Lewis (tenor saxophone), one of the stars in the jazz firmament, serves the free jazz genre, Anthony Pirog (guitar) the jazz rock faction, and the ex-Fugazi rhythm section Joe Lally (bass) and Brendan Canty (drums) the hardcore/alternative fans. After successful tours that took the quartet across the US and Europe, they have become a real unit. Consequently, after the end of this experience, they recorded the music for their second joint album, Deface The Currency ,in just two days. The result showcases the quartet as a well-rehearsed, well-oiled machine, but this time the range of compositions is more diverse. The seven tracks on Deface The Currencyreveal a new level of harmony and naturalness, and the entire album demonstrates how much fun the band had recording it. More than on their debut album, they succeed in bringing compositional elements to the fore without neglecting improvisational aspects. “I like making beautiful, carefully crafted records”, says Brendan Canty. “But I also like to let things flow naturally in the studio. I think people can hear the difference.” Two years ago, when they set out to record their debut as a group, the way they worked looked quite different. Much of the music had already taken shape before Lewis was involved, and they spent just one day rehearsing together prior to the studio sessions. Only after completing the aforementioned tour did they fully recognize themselves as a genuine band - and they were eager to channel that new sense of unity into their work. That shift in mindset can be heard in the frequent and striking changes in dynamics throughout the record.

The band may see this as a strength, and it is also virtuosic, no question. However, especially at the beginning, the pieces are composed in a rather conventional jazz-rock style, and Pirog’s guitar style sounds a bit overly fiddly, using rather clean fretboard runs. This reminds me too much of Al DiMeola (I know this is a subjective perspective). But fortunately, the band manages to get back on track. Their eclectic approach still works best when they rock hard - that is, when Pirog lets his guitar wail and Lewis coaxes rougher, throatier tones from the tenor, which then happens in the last two tracks of the album: “Clutch,” reminiscent of “Fear Not” from 2022, and “Serpent Tongue (Slight Return)”. The latter appeared in its original version on the 2018 Messthetics debut and is jazz punk as you would dream it to be - wild, crazy, free, and sprawling. In its intensity as “Slight Return” it’s also a reference to Jimi Hendrix’s “Voodoo Child (Slight Return)”, with free jazz taking on the role of the blues in Hendrix’s version. Riding on the opening riff, the quartet then sails toward the sunset in the final section.

Even though I would say that Deface The Currency isn’t quite as impressive as the debut, the album still shows a lot of energy, enthusiasm, and tightness. Those who liked the first album will also find what they are looking for here.

You can listen to Deface the Currency on the usual streaming devices.

Watch the title track here:

Robert Lucaciu - Fallen Crooner (Unit Records, 2026)

 

By Sarah "Flake" Grosser

The words “performative male” get thrown around online a lot these days. Is it “performative” for a male to release a feminist free jazz album? One could be forgiven for assuming so on the surface, but considering bass player/composer Robert Lucaciu has been piecing Fallen Crooner  together for the last 5 years, you’ve gotta admit, it’s an enormous level of commitment to the bit. According to his instagram, Lucaciu “deconstructs his own (cis-)male self-understanding and invites a cast of remarkable musicians (...) Laura Totenhagen (vocals), Pascal Klewer (trumpet), Shannon Barnett (trombone), Sofía Salvo (baritone saxophone), and Moritz Baumgärtner (drums) to engage in a joyful discourse on gender roles.” It all begins with stripping back the ego and powering up the estrogen levels to 11, starting with a set of (epic) powder pink big-band suits. NICE!

Lucaciu writes: “While in one reality a loud, raging final struggle for the age-old patriarchy is being fought, burying any doubt under misogynistic crudeness, in another, a new space is opening for a softer, more critical form of masculinity. As old, rigid boundaries melt away, fear dissolves, and the search for an individual definition begins. What do my gender and my sexuality mean? What responsibility do I carry as an individual in a social context?”

Despite being the frontman, Lucaciu provides plenty of space for vocalist Totenhagen to take centre stage. Jazz with vocals is always going to be something of an acquired taste – some prefer theirs purely instrumental. While there are plenty of short, textural interludes where Lucaciu allows the musicians to express themselves freely, it’s Totenhagen’s clear, confident voice that impresses and continues to surprise throughout. Boasting an incredible spectrum of character, her colourful range of mouth-sounds are as diverse and dynamic as that of a professional voice-actor. Having said that, she is also quite a delightful crooner, who clearly has great experience singing jazz. Here on opening track “Imposter,” we see her inverting gender, taking on the role of the aforementioned fallen crooner; the “ridiculous man.” She outlines his insecurities in first person, becoming the very character she is lampooning. It sets the scene with her gradual switch from swanky lounge crooner to all-out avant-garde improvising vocalist. The humour is further emphasized through a toe-tapping call-and-response of “I am ridiculous / (He is ridiculous) / I am a dick / (Oh what a dick).”

It should be noted that even though the subject matter is “ridiculous,” the music itself never slips into cheese or classlessness. This is quite an impressive feat for an album that features poetic references to “booty,” “farts,” and “sharts;” see “Prose Poems,” featuring Totenhagen’s dramatic reading of a poem by actor/writer Teresa Spencer. On the contrary, while the jazz is mostly playful, the musicianship and attention to detail is top tier. Baumgärtner's expressive drumming meets a forward-thinking brass section to die for: Barnett, Salvo, and Klewer each add their own unique voices to the experimental dialogue. 

Yes, track 6’s “Lonely Woman” is Fallen Crooner’s take on Ornette, further adding to the discussion by pairing it with “a nude by edward hopper:” a text written in 1967 by German-born American poet Lisel Mueller. Ornette was inspired to write the original melody when he saw the face of a rich white woman “who had absolutely everything that you could desire in life, and she had the most solitary expression in the world.” He is quoted as saying he had “never been confronted with such solitude” before going home to write the piece. Lucaciu takes the famous opening track of “The Shape of Jazz to Come” and connects it brilliantly with a text mirroring the same loneliness that Mueller interpreted in Edward Hopper’s nude figures of lonely, solitary women.

The epilogue features Lucaciu up front and centre for a bass solo with all the gusto and low-end rumble and power of a whirring helicopter, but this soon makes way for a more selective and harmonic melody; a little like Lucaciu’s audio thoughts marking the end of the discussion for now. 

If nothing else, you gotta see the photo on the back of the album of the band in their pink suits with Lucaciu in the fountain.

Liz Allbee - Breath Vessels (Ni Vu Ni Connu, 2025)

By Dan Sorrells

As I listened to the "speculative folk music" of Liz Allbee's latest solo album Breath Vessels, I found my thoughts being pulled from Allbee's futuristic framing—"an imagining of how collectivity might sound at some point ahead"—and towards Donna Haraway's notion of "staying with the trouble." In a book bearing that title, Haraway makes it clear that to stay with the trouble means forging kinship with all manner of things and beings that share in an ongoing "thick present." As "mortal critters," we are all "entwined in myriad unfinished configurations of places, times, matters, meanings."

This sort of entwinement feels central to Allbee's project on Breath Vessels, where she's quick to point out she's not using "folk" in a nostalgic sense. Rather, she aims for a music that can encompass the complex and often contradictory aspects of being an embodied thing in a world that seems to be splintering, where we are as caught in the tangles of looming environmental destruction and abounding alienation as we are in virtual seas of information and cascades of competing realities. Increasingly held apart by webs that nevertheless bind us tightly together. Breath Vessels isn't a post-apocalyptic soundtrack, but there's more than a little science fiction in this music cobbled together from the pieces of our fragmenting world. It's music that pretends to be from an uncertain future, but can't help being thickly present. A bricolage of bodily, digital, and emotional resonances, it seeks to remind us to feel the deep vibrations running through all those strands that connect us.

Those vibrations are the heart of the four pieces on Breath Vessels, which are crafted from self-built instruments, tuning forks, sine waves and Allbee's vocals. Nowhere is Allbee's trumpet found, and the pieces here are not improvised in execution. Still, Allbee's improvisatory spirit is within them, surely in the genesis of the compositions and expressly in the methods of building her "breath vessels," which repurpose glass jugs and jars and parts from "old instruments on eBay, flea markets, metal supply stores, [and] garden centers" to create protean instruments that hum and wheeze and reverberate powerfully, if at times imperfectly.

The long opener "Elegy for the Lost at Sea" is an accumulating mass of deeply resonant foghorn drones that sound not only like an elegy but maybe also a warning for those who follow. But as the tones slowly begin to layer, an amniotic warmth seeps in. Every manner of vibrating physical body is buried in these low drones: woody bass clarinet, thrumming transformers, the slow draw of a bow across bass string, ancient throat singing, a mother’s voice in utero. Soon, higher tones and garbled voices emerge in the interstices between bassy breaths, a peculiar lifeform stirring into existence. As the piece nears its end, the drones are reduced to the sounds of respiration, like the slow breathing of the strange new form of life.

The B-side features three very different shorter pieces. On "Pigeons" a disorienting moiré drone grounds higher accordion-like pitches that converge and diverge in consonance and dissonance. A spoken word vignette begins: "I see a woman walking, furtive, through the street. The day is blinding, brilliant." "Glottal Stops" is percolating, percussive, again shot through with a panning submarine drone. As with many things on this album, it's hard to know what is organic, what is electronic, what is one imitating the other. "Solitary Flocks" reprises the narrative thread of "Pigeons," the words now sung over a shifting reedy gradient and a pulsing beat. Eventually the lyrics morph and it's no longer just the woman walking furtively but all of us—everyone lost in their own thoughts, seized by their own concerns, slyly slipping by everyone else in the bright sunny day. Caught up in the trouble, if not yet staying with it.

Peter Evans & Mike Pride - A Window, Basically (Relative Pitch, 2025)

By Charlie Watkins

A Window, Basically is the newest release from the unstoppable Peter Evans, this time in a duo with drummer Mike Pride. Evans and Pride played together previously in the trio Pulverise the Sound with Tim Dahl on bass, but on this record they move away from their punk jazz adventures in a more decidedly free jazz direction, in an entirely improvised session.

I will admit upfront that I’m not the biggest fan of drum duos. Especially in the free jazz idiom, where there is still a division between ‘frontline’ and ‘rhythm section’, I feel that the music would almost always be improved with the addition of another player to generate more resistance, momentum and textural possibility. Otherwise, the drums are cursed to assume the role of ‘accompaniment’ whilst the other instrument is the ‘soloist. Much of this recording seems to succumb to this trap: however good the connection between the two players is, I can’t help but feel that Pride is there to support Evans’ complex improvisations.

But on the third track on the album, 'Substance Z,' my ears perked up. Here we start to see the less virtuosic and more creative side of the two musicians, making use of noise, subtler dynamics and an autoharp – a welcome addition after a general lack of textural variation up to this point. The track is the longest on the album, but has a clearer structure that allows it to show the potential of the format rather than draw attention to its limitations. Two thirds of the way through, they return to the free jazz madness of the first two tracks, but this time it is presented as a welcome change.

'Substance Q', which clocks in at a brief one minute sixteen, shows the potential of the drum duo format. Being so concise, they don’t have time to settle into a hierarchy of soloist-accompaniment, and the result is a perfectly focused ‘window’ on what they can achieve together. It still feels like jazz (in the best sense of the word), but with all the creative freedom of improvised music. Some more short tracks like this might have helped focus the album more.

'Substance P' finishes the album and was my favourite of the bunch. By putting their virtuosity to one side, Pride and Evans begin to blur into one another, and the result is a voyage of discovery: the scraping cymbals match the timbre of Evans’ ghostly piccolo trumpet, generating ethereal layers of sound which seem to come from more than just two musicians. The improvisation is slow-moving and tense, far more interested in the sonic possibilities than any demonstration of instrumental skill. I could have listened to much more of this.

My favourite tracks on the album were those which didn’t showcase technical ability and moved more in the direction of ‘improvised music’. This is not to deny the strong connection between the two players on the higher energy improvisations, jumping seamlessly between tempo and metre and locking in seamlessly with one another, which of course can be the joy of playing in a duo. Pride certainly shows himself to be a master drummer in the jazz idiom, and Evans’ knotty playing is as impressive as ever. But their musicianship is highlighted when they put this high level of technical ability to one side, and instead seek spaces of the unknown. That is what I would have liked to hear more of.

Vasco Trilla & Luís Vicente - Ghost Strata (Cipsela, 2026)

By Stef Gijssels

Both trumpet-player Luis Vicente and percussionist Vasco Trilla expand the sonic horizons of their instruments, creating "ghost strata". In geological terms, "ghost strata" are the no longer present parts of rock formations that have been eroded or destroyed by nature or reshaped by humans. Their ghosts are still visible in the remaining rock surface, yet their former presence can only be imagined. The concept gives a deep feeling of relativity that even something as solid as rocks are just passing through, just a transitory element in the vastness of time. This paradox of presence and absence, of solidity and vulnerability also qualify the music of both musicians. 

Trilla’s percussion leans toward resonance and elongated tones, emphasizing sustain and subtle vibration, while Vicente’s trumpet sounds more mournful than ever—hovering gently around a central pitch, releasing fleeting yet vivid phrases that feel both immediate and timeless. Together, they shape soundscapes that are strange and enigmatic, at once unsettling and deeply alluring.

“Strata #3” stands out as my favourite track. It opens with clear, ringing tones that gradually dissolve into a wider, immersive drone, coloured by the horn’s strained, creaking textures.

"Strata #4" starts with a tribal flute, bringing to life some memories of times long gone, with again hard to fathom percussion, repetitive and unexpected, and ending with multiphonic muted sad trumpet. 

This music feels like the sonic counterpart to impressionist painting—an exploration of light and reflection in sound. Subtle tonal shifts, fleeting textures, and delicate details gather and dissolve, blending into something far larger than their individual parts. The result is immersive and elusive, difficult to define, far beyond language or comprehension, yet an incredibly rewarding listening experience. 

This is their thirteenth collaboration on record, and their third duo album. It is unique in its qualities and sound. 

Highly recommended. 

Listen and download from Bandcamp. 

Evi Filippou: Sunday Interview

Photo by Willie Schumann

Berlin based vibraphonist Evi Filippou has been making waves in the European improvised music scene in recent years. Filippo began her studies in her hometown of Volos, Greece and moved to Berlin in 2011 to study classical percussion at the Hochschule für Musik Hanns Eisler. This year, she will be the Improvisor in Residence at the Moers Festival. While the festival itself takes place from the 22nd to 25th of May in Moers, the residency has already begun. 

 

We begin our occasional 12-Questions Sunday Interview series with a couple of extra questions about the residency:

 

Paul Acquaro: Can you tell me a bit about how you got involved with Moers?

 

Evi Filippou: The Improviser in Residence is a structure that exists since 19 years, the first Improviser in Residence was Angelika Niescer and since then a lot of very diverse and great musicians have been Improvisers in Moers. It's not something you can apply for, I think it is the artistic directors of the Moers Festival that do the search and decide. It came out of the blue and quite short term for German standards. It is a huge honor and privilege to do that this year. 

 

PA: What are your - at least for now - plans are as artist in residence?

EF: I am inviting a lot of artists that I like and admire, different styles and musical approaches, I'm hosting Listening Sessions in my living room open for everyone, I am involved in two education projects in schools and the music school, I am planning a Live Cinema event and some jam sessions.

PA: What other projects are you currently working on?

 

EF: My band inEvitable, we recorded an album in the summer featuring Tim Hagans and I'm working on that. I am also working restlessly on my duo project with Robert Lucaciu, our album Love at Last Sight is coming out March 13th with BMC Records and we are playing concerts around Europe all year. I am also working on some percussion and drum compositions for me and Marius Wankel, (WOBBLY) and using Moers as a place away from everything and everyone I know to get back into some deep practicing, reading and researching.

Now the 12 Questions:

1. What is your greatest joy in improvised music?
   
   The risk taking and the surrendering into the unknown. Flirting with Chaos and learning to love it has been so liberating.
   
   
2. What quality do you most admire in the musicians you perform with?
   
   That they are decent human beings, open, supportive and do what's best for the music. They don't need to convince anyone they can play , they are beyond this and they just make music. I also admire them for always wanting to do the best for the composition, the concept, the idea, they want to understand and develop. I try to only work with generous humans.
   
   
3. Which historical musician/composer do you admire the most?
   
   That's a tough one. I could name a few. Monk, Mary Lou Williams, Maria Grever would be my top 3 these days.
   
   
4. If you could resurrect a musician to perform with, who would it be?
   
   Geri Allen 
   
   
5. What would you still like to achieve musically in your life?
   
   I mean.. everything I manage! The more you learn the more there is to know and then you die I guess. So yeah lots of things I d still like to learn, create and play with.
   
   
6. Are you interested in popular music and - if yes - what music/artist do you particularly like?
   
   I am interested in good and honest music. I like Olivia Dean.
   
   
7. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
   
   More patience, less heavy self criticism - it’s really a waste of time.
   
   
8. Which of your albums are you most proud of?
   
   I am proud of Love at last sight coming out this March. I loved the process, the preparation and what came out of all this.
   
   
9. Once an album of yours is released, do you still listen to it? And how often?
   
   I do! Depends. Some just once, some every couple of months.
   
   
10. Which album (from any musician) have you listened to the most in your life?
    
    Carrie and Lowell Sufjan Stevens - Telefone Noname.
    
    
11.  What are you listening to at the moment? 
    
    Ben Webster, David Virelles, Johny Guitar Watson and funeral xylophones from burkina faso. 
     
12. What artist outside music inspires you?
    
    Natalia Manta, Albert Camus, Milan Kundera, Maria Filippou, my best friend Aimilia Varanaki and every person that thinks things up and down and through and change their minds and then change them again and expand their consciousness and existence.
     
     

Evi Filippou on the Free Jazz Blog: 

• Jazzfest Berlin 2025 - Part 1
• The 18th Bezau Beatz Festival, Bezau, Austria, Aug. 7-10, 2025
• Moers Festival 2025 (Part 1)
• Sparks and Vision: Teis Semey Quintet / Evi Filippou & Robert Lucaciu
• Magnet Festival - Wiesbaden, Germany, May 12 - 14, 2023

Pöschl, Dörner, Gordoa - Native Acts (Trouble in the East, 2026)

By Brian Earley

With Native Acts, a new recording by Sunk Pöschl on drums and percussion, Axel Dörner on trumpet and electronics, and Emilio Gordoa on vibraphone, percussion, and electronics, listeners find themselves, in the most unassuming and modest of conditions, in the middle of free jazz history.

While not on the tip of every experimental listener’s tongue, these musicians have played with damn near everyone. Don’t believe me? How about a short list of Peter Brötzmann, William Parker, Paul Lytton, Alexander von Schilppenbach, Evan Parker, Harri Sjörström, and Silke Eberhard. That’s the truncated list. Dörner himself has paired with Sven-Ake Johansson (the guy played on Machine Gunfor goodness sakes) and John Butcher so often these ensembles alone would fill out a resume.

While Gordoa hails from Mexico City, he spends a great chunk of his time on the Berlin music scene. The other two musicians, Dörner and Pöschl, originate from Cologne and Munich respectively, forming Germany as the nexus of their collective activity. The three men gathered in 2021 in Berlin for PANDA Platforma, itself an intrepid power for experimental arts, and recorded Native Acts for Trouble in the East Records, which released the music some four years later on February 5, 2026.

The simplest way to say it is that this is a really strong album. I found myself at times thinking there were four or five instrumentalists, at other times, only one (or none at all!). Silence, it seems, sits in as a fourth member of the group. The opening piece, simply titled “Part 1” (there are nine total works on this recording, all of which are pragmatically titled “Part 1,” Part 2,” etc…), opens with quiet vibes, then a trumpet altered by electronics, almost unobservably so, then one low volume cymbal, and one soft drum hit. And then, in what is characteristic of this album as a whole, a drop off into total silence. The trio plays for a mere twenty seconds before leaving the listeners with a solid seven seconds of silence.

This use of silence appears again and again. Try “Part 2,” for example, during which the electronics rumble with bass more felt in the stomach than heard in the ear, then a gathering of quiet thunder, thwacking percussion, the sound of chimes or vibes played close to the microphone and feedback like screeches arch over the piece. Then at the 5:46 mark, total silence.

Quiet works often bring to my mind the word restraint, but the musicians on this album never feel to me like they are holding each other back. Actually the playing is absolutely non-competitive. Sometimes the three instrumentalists play vertical lines beside each other, sometimes a single player assumes the lead while others play accompanying work in the background, as Gordoa does around the 8:50 moment in “Part 2.” And, just as Gordoa steps forward, he drifts quietly into the back again allowing Dörner’s trumpet to take center stage before he himself grows quiet as Pöschl’s drum work closes out the work. Communion and close attention allow all members to thrive in this music society.

This is not to suggest the recording is low on energy. Just listen, for instance, to the first first four or so minutes of “Part 7.” Silence quickly lurches into a topsy-turvy slapping of percussion that itself grows into Dörner’s trumpet whipping through the electronic air. The sound cuts in and out like there is something wrong with your speakers, and by 2:20 things are really cooking and the high energy is pushed forward, forward, forward by Pöschl. Gordoa’s vibes soon assume a leadership role again until at 3:30 Dörner’s trumpet holds a single long note with an electric soup of sound beneath.

Close attention to the music really pays off on Native Acts , and despite this being a trio recording roughly 80 minutes long, it feels so varied, awake, inventive and nuanced. I really enjoyed becoming familiar with this album, and encourage all sound travellers to check it out for themselves.

Native Acts can be found at: https://troubleintheeastrecords.bandcamp.com/album/native-acts. 

 

Billy Martin, Matt Glassmeyer, Jonathan Goldberger - State Fête (Adhyâropa Records, 2026)

By Hrayr Attarian

Perhaps the biggest challenge collaborative bands face is spontaneously creating music without sounding discordant. The trio of percussionist Billy Martin, keyboardist Matt Glassmeyer, and guitarist Jonathan Goldberger overcomes this with elegant ease. Their release State Fête is a captivating, multilayered work that puts sublime camaraderie front and center. Anticipating one another and interweaving their independent instrumental voices, the three artists paint seven cinematic soundscapes that are both vibrant and ethereal.

For instance, “Anemone” opens with sparse chiming and tolling notes, setting a somber mood. Godlberger’s blistering and angular chords bounce off Glassmeyer’s expectant refrains and Martin’s darkly resonant beats for a dramatic effect. Slowly, the delightful, dissonant repartee coalesces into a moving, melodic group improvisation. The ambience remains tense as Goldberger’s eloquent phrases punctuate the otherworldly backdrop created by Glassmeyer and Martin. The pulsating piece, with its percolating percussion and mesmerizing vamps, hints at Eastern Zen quietude.

This type of mysticism permeates the entire album regardless of the motif. “Queen Substance,” for instance, has more of an Afrocuban cadence with a futurist vibe. Groaning reverberations and rustling shakers buoy the sparse guitar tones. Goldberger then launches into a bluesy melody while Glassmeyer responds with wistful musings, playing his own invention: a reedless saxophone that sounds like a melodica. The meditative dialogue is taut and energetic, with Martin propelling the tune forward with his thundering polyrhythms.

Elsewhere, “Jan Hooks” opens with a Levantine theme, with Glassmeyer’s plaintive lines blending with Goldberger’s simmering strums, creating a lyrical melody. Martin’s alternating sharp, crisp thrums and the sonorous thumps give the track its Middle Eastern rhythm. Glaassmeyer continues to coax out of his reedless saxophone a warm and languid solo. As the performance evolves, it becomes more like a serene nocturne, further enhancing its poetic feel.

State Fête is a brilliant record, both stimulating and emotive. It deftly blends various influences into a dynamic and engaging album that showcases not only the individual musician’s originality but also the ensemble inventiveness of this seamless partnership.

John Butcher / Ute Wassermann / Martin Blume - Leaflight: Close Calls (FMR, 2025)

By Martin Schray

Over the last two years I have hardly listened to another artist as much as John Butcher (okay, except for Dave Rempis). No wonder, since the 71-year-old saxophonist sets an almost relentless pace when it comes to his releases, with ten in 2025 alone and another CD already scheduled for 2026. One could actually just listen to his music and be quite busy with that. One of his latest projects is a trio with vocal artist Ute Wassermann and drummer Martin Blume - an unusual lineup, but then again, what about John Butcher’s projects is usual? Wassermann studied fine arts at the University of Fine Arts in Hamburg and also completed classical voice training. Her work combines composition, improvisation, sound, and performance art. Blume has been one of the most important drummers in improvisational music for around 40 years. Through the use of numerous objects, including those not typically associated with music, he constantly expands the sound, distinguished by his pronounced quasi-compositional sensitivity. The musicians’ openness to all possible soundscapes naturally provides excellent conditions for interesting music.

What is immediately striking Leaflight: Close Callsis the incredible range of Wassermann’s voice, which at first is not necessarily recognizable as such. It oscillates between a second saxophone, bird whistles, wind noises, a singing saw, a synthesizer, or even a plectrum running along the strings of a guitar. This makes the music seem powerful and exciting, but also mature and well thought-out. Martin Blume contributes to the improvisation as an equal solo partner, his drumming carrying the other two on his hands as if he was a magician. Of course, this all sounds more like new classical music, especially when Wassermann’s voice is clearly recognizable as such at the end of the first piece. But who cares about categories or genres, if everything is so wonderfully refined and elegant, but completely delicate and restrained. Especially “Call 2”, the longest piece, is a perfect example of this.

Most of all, the backbone of this album is Butcher’s saxophone playing. In “Call 8” it also presents itself as powerful and earthy, though not loud at all, testing the limits of hearing as so often (even more clearly in combination Wassermann’s voice), but there is an undeniable emotional depth and sheer beauty in his playing that goes beyond technique and concept. He is therefore often compared to Evan Parker, and not without reason. Like Parker, he has revolutionized saxophone playing with his sonic explorations in solo recordings, but also in other formations. Butcher’s music is always connected to the space around it (here the LOFT in Cologne). In the case of Leaflight: Close Calls, the music has almost esoteric, even psychedelic moments. It floats through the room and carries you away without the listener noticing. A truly wonderful recording.

Leaflight: Close Calls is available as a CD and as a download. You can buy and listen to it on Martin Blume’s Bandcamp site:

Cecil Taylor New Unit – Words and Music the last bandstand (Fundacja Sluchaj, 2026) *****

By Paul Acquaro

I recall the night of April 23, 2016 fairly well. I was seated towards the right side, somewhat towards the back, of the seats that had been set up in the big open space of the new Whitney Museum. I recall the set-up facing east-ward, towards Brooklyn, though the liner notes mention overlooking the Hudson River. Regardless, it had been only a few days before that I saw an announcement on Facebook that a performance by Cecil Taylor had been added to the series accompanying the exhibition showcasing his life's work. Wow. I had been waiting for a good time to go to the museum and this seemed to be it. Lucky too, it also turned out to be the last time that Taylor would play a public concert. 

Just before the show was to begin, I did a drive-by of the display cases of Cecil Taylor's work in the exhibit. I found his graphic notations absorbing and was properly in awe of the legendary FMP box set on display. As to the concert, I was not sure what to expect, but that was secondary. Any chance to see this legend of free-jazz was enough, and I certainly didn't expect such a show of energy and intensity from the frail 87-year-old pianist.

The show began, as the listener can experience here, with a few deliberate notes from Taylor at the piano. As the ideas begin forming, tones from Okkyung Lee's cello begin shadowing the painist's twisting melodic phrases. Jackson Krall's drum rolls started coming with increasing frequency as Harri Sjöström, who had worked with Taylor in the 90s and was instrumental in organizing this appearance, added colorful motion to the growing music, his playing intertwining seamlessly with the cello. Taylor's long-time collaborator Tony Oxley, who was unable to play drums at this point, adds electronic adornments to the music. Within minutes, the group seems to gave gelled into the titular "new unit."  

The music is energetic and simply flowing. That this was the first appearance of this quartet -- and one that was pretty much spontaneously assembled just prior to the concert's start -- is almost unbelievable. Cohesive, responsive and flowing, the quartet hit all the right notes. At about 35-minutes into the spirited set, Taylor rose from the piano bench and began to speak. Sounding a bit like late period William Boroughs, Taylor's thin, lightly warbling voice began discussing something between science, history and philosophy. I recall trying to make sense of the sentences but losing the thread as soon as I thought I had grabbed a piece of it. Silly me, this too was sound, words like melodic snippets and chordal fragments. Taylor was not playing alone, the group was underscoring, accentuating and reacting like when deep into recitation, Taylor suddenly starts to mimic the trilling saxophone, playing not just with the sounds of the words but with the sounds of the big open hall. The words last almost 45-minutes and end in an explosion of applause.  

Taylor is in very good form on the recording, and apparently was not considering this to be a final performance either, however he passed away in 2018 without having given another one. So, Words and Music the last bandstand, released on the prolific Fundacja Sluchaj label from Warsaw, is the grand master's final artistic statement and it is a satisfying coda to a remarkable career. Luckily preserved, even if it was not recorded perfectly, the label has done a wonderful job in making it quite presentable. Hell, it gets five stars just because it exists - but it does muich more than that.

Three from Confront Recordings

By Kenneth Blanchard

Stuart Wilding / Mike Adcock – Apophony (Confront Recordings 2025)

One of the joys of Bandcamp (may its name be praised!) is that I get notices for new recordings almost every day. This week three new releases were brought to my attention. Taken together, they provide a good sample of the audio appetites that set our writers and readers apart from other jazz fans.

The title Apophony is a term indicating a change in the pronunciation of a vowel that carries some grammatical information. For example: blood, bleed, and bled. It also produces a nice resonance in English with epiphany, which my spell checker was more comfortable with.

One of the most significant indicators of free jazz is that the texture of sounds is as important, if not more so, than the narrative or emotional content of a recording. It’s a pretty good bet that if the list of instruments includes table tennis balls, Villahe hall parquet floor (Wilding) or “tuned roof slates” (Adcock), texture and percussive expressionism is going to be a major focus. That the former also plays drums and the latter piano means that the artists have not completely severed their ties to more traditional composition.

The title cut marries high pitched bell-like sounds (think of Christmas ornaments being poured into a soft bag) to mostly low-pitched, evocative notes from the keyboard. “Pipes for Paul” wraps a silky, tubular sound around electronic, almost space-jazz vibes. You have to love song titles like “Doublefish,” and “Reverse Antelope,” which begins with an angelic sound followed by bird chirps.

Dominic Lash / Mark Wastell – Polyvalent Creativity (Confront Recordings 2025)

This recording is more conventional only because the instruments are limited to electric guitar (Lash) and drums, percussion (Wastell). The opening cut, “potential” sound like the artists started tuning up and never got around to playing anything else. The sound is so rich that you will be perfectly happy with that, if genuine free jazz is your thing.

The subtitles of the five cuts (e.g., “2. commitment, 3. activation, and 4. Fulfilment”) appear to be references to Coltrane’s A Love Supreme. I need to listen to this several more times to see if it holds.

Steve Beresford / Pierpaolo Martino / Mark Sanders– Be S-Mart (Confront Recordings 2025) 

All three of these releases are worth the investment in time that they invite. By far my favorite is the last. Beresford (prepared piano, electronics, objects) Martino (double bass, electronics) and Sanders (drums). Unlike the Apophony and Polyvalent Creativity, there is a definite, if mostly one-dimensional melody. Be S-Mart consists of two parts (Dark Materials, 1 and 2). It is a high-energy expedition into a land populated with lots of unfamiliar but unmistakenly organic voices. I found myself wanting to look up to see what was perched in the branches of the next alien tree. If this is a fair sample of Confront Recordings catalog, it would pay to keep an eye on that enterprise. 

Ken Vandermark - October Flowers for Joe McPhee (Corbett vs. Dempsey, 2025)

By Stef Gijssels

In 1976, Joe McPhee released "Tenor", a solo album of ... well yes, tenor saxophone, that appears to have been an eye-opener at that time for Ken Vandermark, showing how the single instrument could combine sonic experimentation with a kind of natural lyricism, an approach which has been deeply ingrained in the musical approach of both musicians. If anyone deserves a tribute album, it's the now 86 year old icon of free jazz. 

Vandermark does it with style and class. Six pieces are partly composed, the other five are spontaneous improvisations, and to create even more variation, he switches instruments frequently: bass clarinet, tenor, Bb clarinet and baritone sax. The music is intimate, gentle, warm and welcoming while at the same time refreshing and innovative. All tracks are named after flowers, put together as a bouquet for McPhee. Like McPhee, Vandermark is a story-teller, taking the listener into the logic of each piece, moving them along with his singular dynamics of shifting intensity, speed and volume, combining emotional power with an avant-garde sense of abstraction, with deep bluesy feelings - as on the goosebumpy "Sunflowers" - and more exuberant excursions such as on "Queen Anne's Lace". 

The music is Vandermark's, without a doubt, yet the sensitivity for McPhee's sound is present in every piece.

In 2017, McPhee released a solo alto album, called Flowers, dedicated to musicians he admired. I guess Vandermark continued the tradition with a deep bow of respect and gratitude. 

What a treat. 

Listen and download from Bandcamp. 

Ken Vandermark in a cistern

It's already an old video, but I came across it via the website of the Corbett & Dempsey label. In 23/10/2010, Ken Vandermark, Haavard Wiik and Chad Taylor, played at Centro de Artes do Espectáculo de Portalegre in Portugal. In the day after the concert, the musicians, the crew of Clean Feed and the recording team went to the village of Marvão. The Castle of Marvão is a well-preserved medieval castle located in the Portuguese district of Portalegre. The castle has a large cistern in which rainwater was collected to provide drinking water when the castle was under siege.

The resonance of the place proved to be the perfect invitation for Ken Vandermark to create an impromptu performance on baritone, luckily captured on camera. We know about the importance of the venue in which musicians perform, but like with John Butcher on various occasions, these resonating and echoing empty closed spaces are particularly inviting for saxophonists. 

Enjoy the interaction between artist and space!

Tim Daisy’s Vox 3 - October Bells (Sonic Action Records)

By Charlie Watkins

Vox 3 is Tim Daisy’s trio with Fred Lonberg–Holm on cello and James Falzone on clarinet. They’ve been playing together since 2008, when their eponymous debut was released, and I believe this is now their ninth recording together – most of which have been under the name Vox Arcana. I reached out to Tim to ask what prompted the name change, and he told me that he changed the name when he started adding other musicians to the group: Macie Stewart on Roman Poems (2019) and Gabby Fluke-Mogul on A New Hotel (2023). He also hinted that the future might see even larger configurations. But the trio remains the core.

Tim Daisy describes Vox 3 as his ‘experimental music trio’. I think ‘experimental’ might be overstating it a little: compared to most things on this blog, I would say Vox 3 falls on the more accessible side of avant-garde jazz. This isn’t a criticism, just an honest acknowledgement that what you get here is not massively ‘out there’. I would instead describe Vox 3 as a storytelling trio. They have a unique language that wouldn’t feel out of place if you were sitting around a fire, listening to folk tales of danger and sorrow. It makes the music quite accessible, in spite of the freely improvised elements, and reminds me a little of the early Ornette Coleman, whose free jazz was so deeply rooted in the blues. Similarly here, the melodies are simple, but it is the highly textural use of percussion that turns these folk tunes into miniature stories.

The record starts with Escriptura, a free jazz romp, with Fred Lonberg-Holm walking the cello(!) whilst James Falzone growls away over the top. James is an extraordinary clarinettist who really shows off what the clarinet is capable of: his abstract lines and vibrant array of timbres make him a formidable presence. After a drum break, James and Fred swap over, James now accompanying Fred’s fierce improvisation. I wish we could have heard a bit more of this powerful, passionate playing on the record – you only need to listen to Fred’s recordings with Peter Brötzmann to hear what he can do – but there are only occasional hints of this throughout.

Most of the album is much more mellow in tone, especially tunes like A Simple Theme, where the cello is played arco and the clarinet much more melodic. In fact, the rest of the album is generally more like this. I think sometimes the narrative-driven compositions mean the individual tracks end up with too much variety, whereas I think the record could be more interesting if each track had a stronger individual identity. Nonetheless, I did enjoy the way the improvised elements were integrated in almost as if they were scenes in a drama, especially on The Real Sky, which I think shows all three musicians at their best and manages to hold together melody and experimentation in an interesting way.

There are enjoyable moments throughout, and you will certainly find yourself drawn into the stories they are weaving. But I think this album only hints at the potential of Vox 3, and the stories they have left to tell.

October Bells is available from Sonic Action Records on Bandcamp.

天藤丸 Ten-Toh-Maru - 夜を往くもの The One Who Walks Through the Night (Meenna, 2025)

By Eyal Hareuveni

天藤丸 Ten-Toh-Maru is, no doubt, the most experimental ensemble that Japanese pianist-composer Satoko Fujii plays in and most likely, the Japanese supergroup that most of you have never heard of.

Ten-Toh-Maru features the unique, incomparable voice artist Tenko (天鼓), co-founder of the eighties, all-women avant-rock band Mizutama Shobodan, and a frequent collaborator in the next decade with John Zorn, Ikue Mori, Fred Frith, and Zeena Parkins; Fujii (藤井郷子), who plays here mostly inside the piano; and Toshimaru Nakamura(中村 俊丸), a central figure in the Japanese free improvisation movement Onkyōkei (音響系, literally, reverberation of sound) of the nineties and early 2000s, a pioneer performer of the no-input mixer board and its feedback noises, and one of the main artists of the Japanese label Ftarri and its sub-labels Meenna and Hitori, all focusing on reductionist aesthetics.

Ten-Toh-Maru recorded its debut album, live in its first-ever performance at the Koendori Classics club in Tokyo in September 2024 (its second performance was in January 2026). 夜を往くもの The One Who Walks Through the Night consists of three untitled, free improvised pieces that merge Tenko’s wordless, free-associative vocal delivery—at times sounding like a mysterious shaman, and at other times naked and vulnerable, but always totally possessed in the moment; Fujii’s resonant percussive piano sounds that often correspond with exotic, traditional zithers and percussive instruments; and Nakamura’s subtle yet tangible, otherworldly fragmented noises. Nakamura recorded and mastered this album. The cover artwork is by Cathy Fishman, a visual artist who did most of Ftarri’s covers (and many of Otomo Yoshihide's doubtmusic label).

The music unfolds patiently, relying on attentive listening and nuanced, but completely unpredictable, textual development. The music sounds timeless, often flowing through a series of poetic, dream-like cinematic images, but with references to Japanese theatre and traditional rituals. Fujii anchors the free-form dynamics with brief, incisive textual gestures, suggesting loose forms and courses. Hopefully, Ten-Toh-Maru will keep performing and expanding their rare musical universe.

Kris Davis and the Lutoslawski Quartet - The Solastalgia Suite (Pyroclastic Records, 2026)

By Brian Earley

One transitions into interlude; nobody starts there. Unless you are listening to pianist Kris Davis’s latest release from Pyroclastic Records, The Solastalgia Suite. Or unless beginning is merely transition.

This sets up only the first of many questions about arrival and separation in Davis’s powerfully titled suite, a sequence of songs dealing with the lived experience of watching your world crumble around you. That is to say, solastalgia: remembering when autumn in New York did not commonly see temperatures of 70 degrees Fahrenheit (November 2024, when Davis recorded this album, completed the warmest fall in the history of NOAA’s climate record), or when Calgary, the city of Davis’s youth, did not see over 120 smoke-filled hours more than its average (the city’s province of Alberta was particularly ravaged by wildfires that year).

On Solastagia Davis has been commissioned to create a work for her piano with Poland’s Lutoslawski Quartet by the Jazztopad Festival. The string quartet comprised of Roksana Kwasnikowska (first violin), Marcin Markowicz (second violin), Arur Rozmyslowicz (viola), and Maciej Mlodawski (cello) consists of a set of virtuoso string players who have performed in a variety of adventurous jazz and classical formats (see Schoenberg concertos with Jacek Kapszyk or Kenny Wheeler or Uri Caine) according to the Wroclaw/National Forum of Music website.

The piano quintet moves from “Interlude” as introduction into “An Invitation to Disappear,” where a violin sings alone until the other strings gradually circle around and console it. What is remarkable compositionally about “An Invitation” is just how little material Davis provides for herself, as she allows the strings long stretches of pianoless song. Her disappeared piano enters around the two minute mark on a melody just crooked enough to create an atmosphere of malaise and exits within one minute. At 4:12 the music resolves into silence, only to transition into a string supported homophonic piano melody that weeps in a minor key and gazes in a stunted wonder that may be the most moving moment of the entire suite. It is an invitation to hide as much as it is an appeal to gather together and witness what is being lost right in front of us.

The string harmonics and upper register piano of “Towards No Earthly Pole” depart from grounded midrange and seek outwards, a movement that does not find its likeness until the suite’s penultimate piece, “Life on Venus.” “Life on Venus,” however, is alien with its one violin sawing over rattles of strings, ominous low-bowed cello, and liquid piano chords landing in intervals between. If home cannot be compassed at an Earthly pole, it most certainly is not on Venus. Unless the alien world of Venus is now Earth, yielded to the pressures of climate change just as the soft and strange atmosphere of the music erupts into a cacophony of forte strings in the final work, “Degrees of Separation.”

And “Degrees” is violent, loud, startling in its sudden dynamic attacks, and the longest piece on the album. The music separates into quiet retreat before lurching back to shake the listener’s attention. However, only small degrees separate the human ear’s vastly different perceptions of decibels or hertz. In the arrangement of the solar system, only one degree separates our planet from its toxic twin, and only 2.5 degrees Celsius separate a livable home and a world we watch disappear.

The Solastalgia Suite leaves little room for comfortable anchoring: the music slides into transition even as it ends. The beginnings we assume are only so by our expectation of introduction. The conclusions are not certain departure, but may start again to arrive at new hemispheres of sound, or maybe single piano keys ascend out of perceivable pitch towards endings unknown.

One can listen to The Solastalgia Suite here:

Ziv Taubenfeld / Helena Espvall / João Sousa - You, Full Of Sources And Night (NoBusiness, 2025) *****

By Richard Blute

"Are you the one who sings those melodies I sometimes hear in spring, the ones that make me dream?”

With a fragile, heavenly tone, a voice I will never forget, he calmly replied:

"I don't know. Sometimes I have hallucinations where I sing winged melodies I don’t recognise, not knowing if they come from me or ever existed. I only remember the day I parted from those who taught me to fly. They told me I carried within me the most perfect song, and that one day it would let itself be sung freely by me.”

-Luis Lopes, from the liner notes

I sat down to listen to this album with no expectations beyond the fact that every NoBusiness album I have ever listened to has been of the highest quality. I didn’t know any of the musicians, but I was attracted to the album because of the bass clarinet played by Ziv Taubenfeld. I have been hooked on the peculiar, deep sound of the bass clarinet since the first time I heard Eric Dolphy playing it. I hit PLAY and almost immediately had one of those flashes where you realize you’re listening to something genuinely new and unique and wonderful. I think everyone who listens to free jazz is looking for such moments.

The album begins with the track 'Oluyemi' where cellist Helena Espvall plucks a simple repetitive pattern over which Taubenfeld improvises. I think of the title track of Julius Hemphill’s Dogon A.D., where Abdul Wadud’s cello plays a similar role. But this band has something different in mind. Espvall is restless in her playing and she varies further and further from her starting point. I realize she’s also steadily increasing the speed and intensity of her plucking. Taubenfeld matches her and João Sousa follows suit on drums. The song briefly feels like a contest. The track reaches an intense crescendo and then I realize that Espvall has begun bowing as Taubenfeld falls away and Sousa just plays a light, simple accompaniment. Her bowing is plaintive, as if she’s missing her accompanists or sad over the state of the world.

On 'In the Ether, In a Light', Sousa’s drumming propels the track forward. He’s especially good on this track. Espvall switches between bowing and plucking and always seems to be giving the right reply to what Taubenfeld is playing, as if they’re having the most intense conversation. I can’t get over how good Espvall is on this whole album.

'Come Back Evaporated Chess' is another standout. Sousa plays some fairly straight-ahead up-tempo percussion with Espvall bowing rhythmically but introducing slight variations in response to Sousa. Taubenfeld peeks in and then lurches in with some Dolphyesque lines. He’s excellent on this track and the next 'They Are Fragments of the Sun'. Over the course of the album, he demonstrates the full range of sound of the instrument.

'Of the Angel In You, Oh Tigers and Lions' starts off as a lovely, peaceful ballad, with Espvall’s cello sounding mournful and Sousa gently responding, with Taubenfeld’s bass clarinet floating above them both. The intensity of the piece increases as each musician digs into what the others are playing. It’s another tremendous track.

I could go on, but instead I’ll say a bit about the musicians. I discovered that I did in fact know Ziv Taubenfeld as he plays on a very good album I own, Albert Beger’s Cosmic Waves. Currently based in Lisbon, he has a great many projects on the go. He’s in a band called Kuhn Fu, dedicated to the work of Christian Kuhn (bonus points for the name). He leads a large band called Full Sun which is a collection of great musicians, including Michael Moore, Luis Vicente, Olie Bryce and Marta Warelis. He’s collaborated with Han Bennink, Ab Baars, Hamid Drake, Ada Rave, and many more.

Helena Espvall has been involved in a wide number of projects. Her bandcamp page has many solo pieces I’m slowly wading through and very much enjoying. She has produced a duo album with Masaki Batoh of the Japanese experimental rock group, Ghost. She has also been involved in, to quote Wikipedia, “Philadelphia's flourishing psychedelic and weird-folk circles”.

João Sousa is part of the exciting Portuguese free improvisation scene. Especially check out his duo with saxophonist José Lencastre, Free Speech and several albums with Pedro Branco.

This is an album to treasure, and another great release from NoBusiness.

Catching up with Jon Irabagon (2025) (Part 2 of 2)

By Paul Acquaro 

See part one of the reviews here.

Jon Irabagon Trio (plus two) - Axiom Five (Irabbagast Records, 2025)

 

Recorded live at the Stone in 2024, Axiom Five features the work of saxophonist Jon Irabagon with his long-standing trio of bassist Mark Helias and drummer Barry Altschul, but with the additional voices of pianist Uri Cane and trombonist Ray Anderson. The trio plus Cane released Dinner and Dancing in 2024 (also recorded at the Stone) and the trio as a trio released It Takes All Kinds in 2014 (recorded at Jazzwerkstatt Peitz). 

 

Axiom Five is pure free improvisation, starting with the opening moments where Irabagon and Anderson are immediately in motion. A playful call-and-response then invites the others to join. The momentum ebbs and flows, with some quite powerful moments, which at first comes in waves of intensity. One instrument is often out front, the others supportive but giving sonic space. Sometimes this space opens up even more and a melding of minds seems to spontaneously occur. The sounds grow denser and around 13-minutes in or so, the band is relaxed and in motion. Around 18 minutes in, they turn inwards and an exploratory section lasts for a spell, before returning to form. Helias and Altschul both get a feature in the latter part of the track. Track two is shorter, about 15 minutes compared to the 37 minutes of track one, and begins with a solo piano intro from Cane. Expansive and free it sets the foundation for the probing group interplay that follows. 

 

This is fine free jazz, rich in dynamics and unanticipated shifts that can be volatile but resolve with tacit agreement.

 

Available digitally at Bandcamp:

 

Jon Irabagon's PlainsPeak - Someone to Someone (Irrabaggast, 2025)

Jon Irabagon's final recording of 2025 is also, in some sense, a new beginning. A few years ago, the saxophonist moved from New York City back to his hometown of Chicago. He has continued to work with an international cast of collaborators, as evidenced just by the recordings reviewed here, but also reestablished some old connections and created a new group of mid-west based musicians. The new Jon Irabagon Quartet is with trumpeter Russ Johnson, bassist Clark Sommers and drummer Dana Hall.

Their first recording, Someone to Someone, is an all acoustic outing with Irabagon focusing on his original instrument, the alto sax. The result is an exhilarating recording that, while celebrating old connections, is ready to explore new sonic territories. 

 

The album begins on an melancholic note, the title track is an elegiacal fanfare, saxophone and trumpet in near unison, but with something amiss, the bowed bass seems to smear some notes in a slowly unfolding interlude, then a return to the melody is followed with drum break and each instrument breaking into spirited solos, only to come back to the evocative melody to end. It is a beginning and an end together that leads into 'Buggin' the Bug', whose melody is reminiscent of something Thelonious Monk may have written. Underpinned by a slinky descending bass line, the tune is ready made for the vibrant solos from Irabagon and Johnson. 

 

'Maloert is My Shepherd' is an homage to a local beverage and shows off the group's ability to swing between free jazz blowing and declarative melodies. 'At What Price Garlic' is a driving piece that sees Irabagon delivering a withering solo over driving rhythm work. 'Tiny Miracles (at a Funeral for a Friend)' is an emotional journey and a high point of an album that is replete with them. The simultaneous solos from the sax and trumpet create a complex but sympathetic mesh of sound supported by a perfectly conceived bass line. Closing out the album, 'The Pulseman' is an upbeat composition that provides an fine tuned vehicle for distinctive solos from each musician. 

 

Hopefully the excellent Someone to Someone is signalling much more great music to come from the musically restless Irabagon. After all, there are already new releases on the near horizon!