Danish six-piece Alawari are nominally described as a jazz band, but that is only one of the many facets that make up this collective for whom the whole is infinitely greater than the sum of its parts.
Moving from dramatic, classically influenced pieces through romantic introspection to more modernist tendencies, Leviathan contains eleven shape-shifting pieces which — considering none are more than six minutes long — are impressive showcases of the band’s ability to let ideas flow, yet to be concise with nothing allowed to outstay its warm welcome.
From the outset, the rhythms are sinuous, intriguing as saccharine horns ally to a progressive build that has other things on its mind. A romantic sweep against solid rhythmic swell that ushers in fresh elements at every turn. The piano is destructive in its bursts — but just as you think you may have the measure, it switches track again. As an opening salvo, it demands your attention, but there is no obvious central player and due to the production, it is possible to make out each player inducing and propelling, blurring the lines, introducing a slow creep of suspicion as strings spiral wildly.
They do know how to bring things back from the edge and put a little romance into our lives. The sweetness of the sax, the gentle swell of the bass draw you in, but it isn’t long before other players start to wind the ratchet. The full percussive workouts which Simon Rastrup Forchhammer brings to the group are the sort that seem to put their arms around the rest of the players, steering them into the fray, kindly but forcefully and from which there is only one result. But for all that, Alawari turn about face and synths and reeds become all sepulchral, momentum down to a crawl and allowing a little respite for a few minutes. It is an epic scope for a six-piece, one that takes in big-band jazz melancholy in one moment and then a kind of modernist percolating piano riff, all tight and taut against a wayward and rather triumphant sounding bass. The percussion carries on like it is overrun with ants but can’t keep it up; and the next thing you know, everything is slightly off-key and agitated, like a drunken marching band making its way down the end of your street.It is all very bracing and it is extraordinary just how adept Alawari are at deciding in which direction to volte-face without putting anyone else off. Leviathan is definitely one of those albums that improves with more listens; it is just busy enough for you to miss details first time around, but not such that it is off-putting. Only their second album, but what a blinder.
-Mr Olivetti-
