Danish sax player and composer Fredrik Lundin is quite the collaborator, his list of ensembles longer than my arm.
With an opening track entitled “Desperate Times, Desperate Measures”, you know that he has been giving our precarious situation some serious thought; but thankfully, the music that pours forth is anything but downbeat. The rhythm section cuts a real groove, the bouncing toms laying a bed for the two soloists, Tomasz Dabrowski‘s trumpet trading places with Lundin’s mezzo sax, the two flowing sweetly, fleet-footed across open fields.
There is drama and stop-on-a-dime intrigue mixed with eagerness and a piercing freedom. By contrast, “Gormenghast” follows the protagonists into a far moodier sense of unfolding, with lower register instruments leading the way below ground, swaying in a sultry manner with solos wide-eyed and reaching and revelling in the swell of support. As the soloists hand over, so you really enjoy the different touches and there is something about it that would make a great theme for a wholly revised Bond film. “Walk With Me, My Friend” is pure sunny light, the warmth of a body close to you, the trumpet drifting amongst a group of companions, dawdling towards a river, all set for a summer swim. The camaraderie is irresistible, but that is something that applies throughout the album with the percussion and piano excursion of “Glossolalia”, trying to loop a tether around the darting sax, expressing free sentiments across a wriggling rhythm; then making way for the seventies groove of “Now Or Never”.This is really funky, with a growling low end and Rhodes shimmering away down sparsely lit city streets. It moves round corners, the sound of a feelgood gang on the prowl, streetlights winking, pavements glinting in a flush of rain. The ringing tones sashay, a trombone solo a gurgling treat for the senses. The exuberant backing is immense and then gradually diminishes, leaving the way open for the melancholy of the album-titled closer.
Using the solitary call of a Hawaiian bird on the brink of extinction, the group attempts to match that sense of despair in humanity’s heavy-footed progress through the world. A lachrymose guitar solo is the perfect antidote, with roiling drums giving an opportunity for other soloists to join in and show that there is still a way to halt the destruction.This sense of joy and camaraderie is irrepressible across the whole album and Fredrik’s compositions are really brought to life by the Odense Jazz Orchestra. It Takes All Types To Make A World is a joy of a listen and thoroughly recommended.
-Mr Olivetti-
