Considering the island of Lanzarote is renowned for its sunshine and blue skies, this latest collaboration between Jo Berger Myhre and Ólafur Björn Ólafsson is filled with melancholy. Most of this has to do with Lanzarote being the last placed that Ólafur spent time with Johann Johannsson before he died early last year. Apparently, the two of them played a gig in a cave on the island, which must have been a beautiful experience and some of that beauty unsurprisingly has seeped into this album.
The opener “Grain Of Sand” just slides out of the speakers like clouds drifting, tranquil with a subtle drone and piano notes setting a hazy scene. The double bass moves through light and shade as the sun reflects on the waves, and the piano tiptoes through the shallows. The double bass is so slight it sounds like breathing and the sparse beauty of the piece transports the listener right there.
The piano is sunny but solitary on “Atomised/All We’ve Got”, and the whole album has that feel of quality alone time; a holiday for one with time to reflect. There is a lot of space between the notes that aches for something unquantifiable, but those spaces gradually become filled with a percussive murmur. It is as if in your reverie, thinking about things, you have rounded a headland and started to come into contact with other travellers. It is a little more vibrant here and a frantic percussive stomp is accompanied by cries from the horns of Eirikur Orri Ólafsson and Ingio Garðar Erlendsson, which add movement and further texture until things revert back to the tranquillity of before. Jo’s bass playing is absolutely gorgeous throughout, managing to sound like a violin or a cello at regular intervals, and the sound is so subtle on “Both Worlds”, it is just texture joining the wafts of electronics that hover before our eyes. The smoky wreaths of the horns reflect a minimalist jazz impression, but gentle and far more open, with plenty of opportunity to take great lungfuls of the fresh, salty air. Scattered drum patterns and twisted bass strings lend an air of mystery on the darker and more fraught “Mimophant”, where the drum patterns follow the tangled bass like random, panicked footsteps; but just as things seem to be settling down and gaining rhythm, the song is pushed right out of kilter and the electronics just swarm around the bass like angry bees.It seems to be a bit of a turning point, as the dislocated steel drum and bass vibe of “Current” gives way to the far deeper and more claustrophobic “Conjure Up The Past”, with its tense blare of horns and echoed ticking moving around like a trapped storm which we are powerless to escape. It does eventually recede, and we are left with a reprise of the opening piece that allows us to resume the peaceful sky-watching of the start.
The album certainly runs through a full gamut of emotions and textures, and the playing is a real delight. Sometimes beauty needs a little sadness and this album is a great example of that.-Mr Olivetti-
