![]() |
||
|
Jakob Sørensen Bagland: Cirkel Denmark trumpeter Jakob Sørensen makes an extremely compelling case for himself as a player, composer, and bandleader on this third release from his Danish jazz quintet Bagland (the Danish word for constituency). In general terms, Cirkel (Circle) is as fine a collection of Nordic Jazz as one might hope to hear, though its music communicates with such immediacy the album has the potential to connect with any jazz listener, regardless of nationality. Bagland's sophomore release, 2016's NOMAD, garnered national and international attention, and one expects Cirkel, with the leader joined by guitarist Alex Jønsson, keyboardist Mathias Jæger, double bassist Frederik Sakham, and drummer Frej Lesner, could well do the same. Though the recording does possess broad appeal, Bagland's sound is strongly informed by its members' roots in Scandinavian culture. There's a lonely, melancholy, and even at times forlorn character to the oft-lyrical music that feels emblematic of the spacious landscapes one associates with their homeland. Sørensen's arrangements are sometimes sparse, too, in a way that evokes the Nordic landscape; of all the instruments, it's his trumpet that most conspicuously conveys that lonely quality, something audible from the start when his muted horns emotes wistfully against a dreamlike backdrop in “Open End Pt. 1.” It's a quality also shared by Jønsson, whose steel guitar-like textures reinforce the mood established by the trumpeter both in that opener and elsewhere. Sørensen's clearly the project leader, even if two of the ten pieces were written by Jæger (“Steps”) and Sakham (“Drapeau Blanc”). Whereas Bagland's earlier releases were primarily acoustic, synthesizer and treatments have been added to give Cirkel a contemporary sheen. As the recording plays, moments arise that suggest Cirkel would likely appeal to listeners with albums by Bill Frisell, David Torn, Mark Isham, and Miles Davis in their collections. In like manner, Bagland's trumpet-guitar combination might remind those same listeners of Frisell-Ron Miles and Isham-Torn pairings. In one of the most ear-catching settings, Jæger's synthesizer patterns add a bright buoyancy to “Steps” that's countered by Sakham's bowing and augmented by Jønsson's rather Frisell-tinged playing and the leader's muted purr. Certainly one of the album's strongest, the title track pairs a lilting keyboard figure with wistful unison melodies voiced hauntingly by the guitarist and muted trumpeter, the arrangement in toto capturing in a single performance the essence of the Nordic sound. During that same performance, Sørensen attacks more aggressively, his now mute-less horn wailing boldly in a way that hints at a Miles connection.“Bryllup” (Wedding) demonstrates the group's ability to execute a classic acoustic blues when so desired, even if the tune eventually escalates into wild, Bitches Brew-styled blowing, and the album also makes room for rubato-styled meditations both ponderous (“I Kirken” [In the Church]) and sombre (“Solnedgang” [Sunset]). The leader himself plays superbly, his authoritative command of his instrument especially evident in the way his hushed tone and graceful handling of tempo distinguish “Ageposten” (The Carriage). All involved show themselves to be deeply attuned to the shared vision, with the remarkably attentive playing of Sørensen's colleagues impressing throughout. A good amount of stylistic ground is covered with deft assurance by the players, which suggests that Sørensen would be wise to keep the band intact to hopefully produce future releases as strong as this one.February 2019 |