Yet another ideas-filled release from Hubro finds Anja Lauvdal and Hans Hulbaekmo from improv monster Skadedyr joining up with double bassist Fredrik Luhr Dietrichson to strip things down a little and see how far they can push the capabilities of a piano / bass / drums trio in the light of how far Norway is pushing jazz. This is not necessarily jazz as we may recognise it, but more three fantastic players pulling one another in different directions.
The meandering organ tries to lead the way on opener “Anslag” and the drums and bass are very gentle in response; they seem more about adding texture and not necessarily adhering to a strict rhythmic structure. The rhythm section shows a kind of patience here, allowing the slightly drunken church organ sensation to stretch and falter as it is held in a warm embrace. Things speed up on “Irsk Setter” with a kind of Eastern folk sound, using squeezebox, drums and piano. There are handclaps in the mix, but it feels as though they are not quite in time and things take a leap into the unknown as various mystery sounds invade the pitch. It is like someone has released a load of balloons, and they are rubbing and whooshing against everything else.
“Sang Til C” has more duration to stretch out, and is darker and more sober. The piano is loose but the pulse of the bass has the warning light reflection of organ shining all over its tenderness. The piano ignores everything, stumbles around the bass and drums, desperate to adhere to some sort of structure but unable to do so. It is down to the bass and drums to try and hang a frame on the songs while the piano follows its own path. It is kind of jazz, but the piano feels as though it is trying to outdo or throw off the bass, like some game of chicken that the piano can never win because the bass is so resolute. A tin whistle adds a gleeful air to “Eventyrdagene” and children’s television themes rub shoulders with Eastern snake charmer vibes on “Voyager”. Mirakler is one of those albums which is impossible to second guess, as each track comes at you from a different direction at a different speed and with a different vibe. The wonderful singing saw brings its own air of sadness and intrigue to “Ludwig XIV”, the accompanying night-time piano slow and heavy. Elsewhere they tie an almost ambient organ to a drum reveille, Hans the drummer being given the opportunity to lead the proceedings.At times, I am reminded just a little of Pram, and Moskus have that desire for mischief, the willingness to pluck from whichever style they like and to add sci-fi textures, mischievous noises and subtle whispers. The keyboard is constantly questing, dragging the drums all over the place; on “Jailhouse Art Music” they are accompanied by what sounds like somebody stuffing bells into a bag as morse-code Felt organ pacifies the craziness. The piano and saw waltz of “(“)” is just delightful; and the next thing you know, the thirteenth and final track has slipped past, the cheeky bubbling bass and elegiac keyboards offering a suitable finale to a journey that takes you like a rollercoaster to here, there and everywhere.
-Mr Olivetti-
