Jonny Wickham: Terra Boa
Fresh Sound Records

While bassist Jonny Wickham calls London home, he's crafted his debut album as a love letter to Brazil. There's nothing tentative about Terra Boa, as Wickham, augmented by a large cast of like-minded partners, totally immerses himself in the South American country's rich musical heritage. Why exactly this Londoner, who studied at the Guildhall School of Music & Drama and has appeared at The Barbican, The Royal Albert Hall, and Ronnie Scott's, chose to ground his debut in Brazil's sound isn't formally clarified, though it might have something to do with the fact that the idea for it crystallized during lockdown. With the walls closing in and normal life brought to a standstill, it's easy to understand how a creative type would be inspired by the image of Rio streets packed with people dancing and singing. There's certainly no shortage of that spirit on the release, whose nine vibrant tracks are by turns sultry and euphoric.

The music percolates nonstop, with Wickham, Jeremy Shaverin, and Tom Hutchison ornamenting Ben Brown's drum rhythms with a percussion arsenal (jangles, chocalho, ganza, repique, agogo, congas, bongos, shekere, etc.). That dense bottom end is overlaid with a rich tapestry comprised of Hammond organ (Lyle Barton), electric guitar (Greg Sanders), piano (Lyle Barton), woodwinds (Tom Barford), vibraphone (Jonny Mansfield), flugelhorn (James Copus), handspan (Rosie Bergonzi), and vocals, the latter courtesy of Irini Arabatzi, who's performed with Laura Jurd and the Scottish National Jazz Orchestra.

Its title alluding to the impermanence of things, “Mono No Aware” blends enticing Cuban and Brazilian elements in a track boasting a richly coloured arrangement and a main theme—voiced powerfully by Barford on soprano saxophone and elaborated upon by Arabatzi's attentive rendering of Mira Mookerjee's lyrics—tinged with melancholy. The album's first solo goes to Barton, and he makes the most of the opportunity on this seductive opener. The distinctive sound of the titular instrument is the lead-in to “Berimbau,” which thereafter blossoms into a radiant expression highlighted by Barford's flute and Sanders' electric guitar and then takes flight again, this time as a rousing powerhouse whose fury's well nigh irresistible.

Samba and bossa nova meet in “Neon Muse,” with Barford's tenor saxophone solo calling to mind Stan Getz and Joe Henderson and Arabatzi waxing nostalgic. Like a number of tunes here, the music undergoes a dramatic shift in dynamics, hushed in some parts and aggressive in others. “Uncanny Valley” advances from a lustrous intro into a rhythmically infectious workout that sees her wordless vocalizing partnering with Mansfield's vibraphone and the others evoking the image of a Brazil market square ablaze with activity. The celebratory spirit associated with Rio during carnival is conjured even more vividly when the title track features feverish, percussion-led swing, with Arabatzi and guitarist Sanders riding the soaring samba-inflected groove like jockeys on raging thoroughbreds.

Afro-Brazilian rhythms lend “Space and Time” funky thrust, the breezy groove sweetly complemented by bright vocals and trippy melodic flourishes. Near album's end, “Millenium Seagull” tips the balance more in Africa's favour than Brazil's in a breezy workout elevated by Copus's flugelhorn spotlight. Identified as an album-only bonus track, the closing “Azizam” is a solo affair, Wickham having assembled the piece (at home, presumably) through extensive overdubbing. There's plenty of percussive ear candy, but the track's most memorable for his terrific electric bass playing.

October 2023