Mats Eilertsen: Reveries and Revelations
Hubro

Described as a “cut-and-paste solo project,” this at times fascinating departure from Mats Eilertsen sees the esteemed double bassist changing things up from his usual approach by supplementing bits recorded using guitar, harmonium, organ, and basses (double, electric, acoustic bass guitar) with contributions from a handful of other musicians. Joining Eilertsen on the ten-song set are Geir Sundstøl, Arve Henriksen, Eivind Aarset, Thomas Strønen, and Per Oddvar Johansen. Each guest appears on a track or two (in one case three) only, with Sundstøl, for example, adding guitars and banjo to two and Henriksen's unmistakable trumpet gracing the concluding piece only. In almost every case, Eilertsen sent the musicians files for them to add parts from the comfort of their home studios.

The sleight-of-hand effected by Eilertsen is convincing, as the tracks do create the impression of pieces executed in real time with the musicians sitting across from one another; even the three featuring him alone seem like small group efforts. However different each piece is from the next, they form a cohesive whole when they're all generally meditative in tone and slow in tempo. Regulated tempos are eschewed for a drifting approach that reinforces the dream-like quality of the material. Reveries they definitely are.

Like Henriksen, Sundstøl stamps any material on which he plays with a strong personal signature, and Reveries and Revelations is no exception. On the opening “Nightride,” his banjo and slide guitar add distinctive character to the leader's bowed bassline and the woozy quality of a lulling rhythm that's more suggested than explicitly stated; the penultimate “Hardanger” sees his banjo and guitar twang on even more emphatic display. At album's end, a brushed snare by Per Oddvar Johansen adds to the relaxed tone of “Appreciate,” but it's the plangent, vocal-like cry of Henriksen's horn you'll remember most.

The major contributor, Eilertsen aside, is Strønen, who adds drums, percussion and electronics to three cuts. He's all over “Signal,” with warbling electronics and percussive tinklings dominating the arrangement, whereas his reverberations act more as atmospheric enhancement to the bassist's stridulations during “Polynesia Pluck.” A rapid bass pulse lends “Endless” drive that serves as a ground over which Aarset drapes crystalline guitar atmospherics, the combination of which makes the piece resemble some Twilight Zone-meets-Steve Reich showdown.

The solo settings indicate Eilertsen's as capable of conjuring atmosphere alone as with others. Drum-less, these exercises derive their animation from the slow lurch of the bass parts and the cumulative thrust of the textures accompanying them. What with its surreal sway and bass-generated convulsions, “Tundra” less evokes a land formation than the creak and groan of a docked ship gently rocked by the current. Admirers of his double bass skills should proceed directly to “Bouvet Blues,” where they'll find a generous helping of his always-authoritative artistry on the instrument; “Venus” and “Sibirean Sorrow,” on the other hand, find him in full-bowing mode.

September 2019