Wanja Slavin Lotus Eaters: Salvation
WhyPlayJazz

Wanja Slavin Lotus Eaters would appear to be less a fixed entity than a malleable unit the leader adjusts to suit the material in play. To that end, the seven pieces comprising Salvation, the alto saxophonist's second Lotus Eaters album, were laid down in three recording sessions using alternating lineups, an acoustic jazz ensemble thus appearing on some tunes and an electrified outfit on others.

Though three bassists (Andreas Lang, Bernhard Meyer, Petter Eldh) and three drummers (Ivars Arutyunyan, Tobias Backhaus, Nasheet Waits) appear on the release, one presumes a single one of each appears on the individual tracks; it's also worth noting that of those bassists, Lang's credited with acoustic, Meyer electric, and Eldh both. Also joining the leader are trumpeters Tom Arthurs and Erik Kimestad, tenor saxist Philipp Gropper, and Rainer Böhm on piano (acoustic and electric), with extra colour coming by way of synth contributions from Slavin and Eldh. Put simply, the group's a sextet, but one designed for shape-shifting.

Up first, the acoustic version of the band inaugurates the album authoritatively with the title track, a dark, somewhat modal-styled dirge that grows ever more powerful as it advances. The instruments align themselves into three sections for the performance: with acoustic piano and bass assuming an anchoring role, freedom is afforded to the drummer and the horns, the latter of which solo in sequence and, when things heat up, concurrently. There's a brooding tone to the piece that likens it to Miles's “Nefertiti,” even if the tunes adhere to different trajectories. A trumpet solo appears first, a breezy, acrobatic turn that paves the way for dark contributions by Gropper and the leader, after which the three wail collectively as controlled agitation carries the performance home.

With synth textures and electric bass factored into the arrangement, the picture changes significantly for the subsequent “W.S. 1,” a tune that rhythmically lurches, lopes, and careens while the front-line voices in unison. Emerging midway through, synthesizer and electric piano solos give the material a rather Headhunters-like feel, even if the vibe's still more free-wheeling jazz than jazz-funk. That electronic dimension is even more pervasive in “Melancholia 1,” a luscious ballad-styled treatment that accentuates the group's orchestral side; if “W.S. 1” suggests a Headhunters connection, “Melancholia 1” invites more pointedly comparison to Weather Report during its Black Market phase, even if the horn textures separate the Lotus Eaters from the Zawinul-and-Shorter outfit. A largely acoustic emphasis returns on “Melancholia 2,” which in its haunting presentation aligns itself to “Salvation,” and on a lovely ballad rendering of “Moonlight Becomes You.”

April 2018