After their last outing of widescreen orchestral reinterpretations, the post-jazz trio Rymden has withdrawn once again to the comfort of their studio and produced a set of contemplative pieces that look at the natural world through the warm embrace of a thick coat and a stout pair of boots, evoking that solitary existence of the inland explorer. Over the seven pieces, the tempos change constantly and through that the moods waver but the sense of revelling in outdoor space is always there.
They move easily through time and space; opener “The Hike” has a plangent Beatles-y groove with the piano throwing in the odd discordant edge to keep us on our toes. John Scofield appears part way through, and his queasy slipping and sliding guitar pushes the track out of the doldrums and on into the obsessive piano refrain of “A Walk In The Woods”. The drumming has the light sweetness of a sewing machine, easy but insistent as it draws you in. The lovely bass solo is redolent of autumn somehow, of falling leaves and weak sunlight. The inclusion of some sharp piano notes gives you a warning that you have to watch your step as not all is smooth going.
The tempo can turn leaden as skies darken and the slow saw of bass brings the shadows in with the piano being the sole brightness on the horizon. In the depths of winter, the drums whisper like snow shuffling off bare branches, the piano a dream of warmth to come, while the bass is the warmth generated by the constant movement, breath coming in plumes. The sense of these pieces is that there is no greater joy than being out and about, wrapped and ready.When the bass creates a groove, as on “The Mountain”, it generates an energetic and expansive excursion with piano picking out repeating motifs. It all seems so effortless, yet the effect is really engaging with the use of synth adding a modish touch, finally ending in a sci-fi freakout which is the complete opposite of the internal abstraction of “Song From The Valley”.
Here is a very different direction, distant ancient bass floating like mist on the hillside, the whole thing creeping with a slow gathering percussive rumble while flashes of feedback tone growl and simmer. Rhythm is hinted at and slowly coalesces into something which then dissipates like a dream.
You can almost put your fingers on it, but the image vanishes and you feel that there are more questions left unanswered. Closer “Himmel” doesn’t assist here. It feels unresolved, meditative and perhaps an ideal note on which to end. It is the perfect accompaniment to a winter walk, but perhaps one that show you new paths and opens up previously unseen vistas. Just throw on a coat and a pair of boots and allow nature and Rymden to guide you.-Mr Olivetti-
