Jazz – Best of 2007

The Icelandic Jazz sound produces notes that linger, frozen in the air, yet still emit a warmth that makes for the kind of early morning music that allows one to slowly rise to the day.  Einar Scheving embodies the beauty and languor of the Icelandic Jazz sound as well as anybody on the scene.

Some albums are like stories.  The music of Cycles is ethereal and vivid, like a story that unfolds within a dream.

Take into account opening track “Sveitin.”  What begins as a tranquil lullaby transitions into a fluttering coda of saxophone murmurs and rhythms like a chorus of crickets.  Like dreams, the context takes a sudden turn, yet it all makes sense in that elastic way logic plays out in slumber.  Track “Recycles,” is a lilting tune, with piano trills, saxophone yawns. and gently loping percussion.

Icelandic Folk music informs much of Scheving’s compositions.  At times it is hinted at, others it shines through bright and strong.  Songs like “No One Knows” have an earthiness to them that speak of old stories told many times.  Languid sax lines belie sprightly piano notes, while shimmering cymbals and the low hum of bass create a foundation that appears perpetually shifting, morphing at the edges of sound.

Dreams can be dynamic and lively.  “Carrots and Ice Cream” dares to wake the dreamer with sharp saxophone and piano interludes, bass and drums upping the heart rate.  On “Rebirth” piano grows tension through rapid repetition of notes, while Scheving’s soft cymbal work counterbalances brooding sax.  Sverrisson’s bass lines paint black shadows in the piano’s wake.

But above all else, this is an album of serenity:

Third track “3” opens with Svererisson’s bass like footsteps awash in moonlight.  Gunnarsson slides his fingers across the piano strings, and the harp-like sound drives the dream-like ambiance in deeper.

“Folk Song” is a pleasant walk through a forest of slightly familiar yet unnameable objects.  Gudjonsson and Gunnarsson attain a casual stroll on sax and piano, while Scheving and Sverrisson walk at a different pace; the crosscurrents of their footfalls is hypnotic.

Title-track “Cycles” is a cloudy day and nothing to do but sit back and enjoy the beautiful cloudy day.  Piano and sax are out front, but it’s bass that anchors this tune in place.

The album ends with “In Sight,” which recreates the pattern of the opening track, but in reverse.  Now is the sense of waking from a dream, stretching arms wide, and greeting the new day sun.

This album is just flat-out beautiful, and emotive as hell.  Exactly the kind of overlooked album that I began the Safety Net series for.  You ECM addicts should be all over Cycles.

Your album personnel:  Einar Scheving (drums, percussion), Skuli Sverrisson (electric & acoustic bass), Eythor Gunnarsson (piano), and Óskar Gudjonsson (tenor sax).

Released in 2007, this album is Self-Produced.

Jazz from the Reykjavík, Iceland scene.

Download a free album track at AllAboutJazz, courtesy of the artist.

Available at eMusic. Available at Amazon: CD

*****

The Safety Net, a Bird is the Worm series which highlights outstanding older albums that may have flown under the radar when first released.

The distant clanging of metal and the jangle of bells, high-pitch warped notes on woodwind, and then the violins and oboe join in.  Piano breaks through the dissonance with a few choice words, clearing the path for a team of saxophones to comfortingly announce that there are many aspects to beauty.  It’s an honest opening statement, and it’s nowhere close to being the only facet of this ridiculously beautiful album.

Multi-reedist Araxi Karnusian leads the Strange Sounds Beautiful Music ensemble, a nonet.

Your album personnel:  Araxi Karnusian (tenor sax, alto clarinet, compositions), Jürg Bucher (tenor sax, bass clarinet, contra alto clarinet), Michael Beck (piano), Daniel Schlaeppi (bass), Dominic Egli (drums, percussion), Simon Heggendorn (violin), Tobias Preisig (violin), David Schneebeli (viola), and Bruno Fischer (violoncello).

On eMusic, I previously wrote, “Despite this album’s massive presence, there is an overarching sense of solitary quietness to the compositions, like immersing oneself into deep thought on a very crowded and noisy street.”  Some music is like that for me, but rarer for me to encounter it in the Jazz genre.  Another jazz musician who does that for me that immediately springs to mind is Clifford Jordan’s Magic Triangle.  Like Interrupted, Jordan’s Night of the Mark VII and Magic in Munich had an intensity to their presence which was enhanced the quieter they became.

Another selling point for me on Interrupted is the vacillation between serenity and discord.  To deeply breathe in languid moments of soaring violin & sax notes just to have the breath knocked right back out of me with those same instruments striking my ears with dissonance and horror movie tension, that type of emotional push-and-pull is right up my alley, and Karnusian’s precision on the timing of those swings is one of this album’s very best qualities.

Interrupted is presented in three parts (Part 1, followed by Part 3, then Part 2; I couldn’t find anything written about why they were ordered that way, though logically, as beautiful as this album is, it may be just because that was how the music best flowed).

Part 1 is typified by equal amounts jazz and classical.  Strings and sax take turns in the spotlight, and the mood shifts between anticipatory and hopeful.  Strings take charge on the opening tracks, sharp staccato notes, the promise of things to come.  When the woodwinds hit the floor, they soar straight up and balance the string’s tension with their own personal warmth.

Part 3 opens with ominous slashing notes of strings and woodwinds that would indicate bad times ahead for Janet Leigh.  Then silence. which is almost immediately broken by a hopping bass clarinet solo that growls for a nice little stretch before the whole ensemble joins in and helps carry the weight of keeping things frantic and harried.  The tempo builds as the tension rises, strings rising up the register and woodwinds not far behind.  Piano is a rainstorm through all of it.  Strings continue as a de facto Norman Bates.  The greater the tension on Part 3, the freer the compositions become.  Instruments don’t wander too far that they leave the reservation, but Karnusian gives them plenty of room to roam.  Drums and percussion are the electric blender, and strings and woodwinds and piano and bass careen enthusiastically about.

After a brief interlude of lullaby strings and piano, the ensemble begins holding hands again, playing nice together, and sounding more lighthearted than at any other time in Part 3.  All is well again, and Part 3 ends with drums bringing enough heat to blister the heart of winter.

Part 2 (the third of three parts on the album) starts soft with a tiny piano motif played beneath the gentle hum of strings.  The intensity builds, but not uncomfortably; similar to pleasant shock of first contact with the cool side of the pillow.  As Part 2 develops, strings and woodwinds team up for some deliriously languid moments of serenity.  When they stop, piano breaks in with jaunty opening lines, like rays of sunlight breaking through stormy clouds.  The piano’s glorious mood is infectious, because saxes and strings gravitate to piano and all as one they are a spark of cheerful melancholy.  The rhythm section keeps thing chipper and bright.  As Part 2, and the album, draws to a close, the ensemble plays with clockwork precision as they count down the seconds ’til the final note.

I only discovered Interrupted about a month ago.  I am totally addicted to it.  I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Released in 2007 on the YVP Music label.

Jazz from Switzerland.

Available at:  eMusic MP3 |  Amazon MP3