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    <body>Fans of improvised music in general, and jazz in particular, are people with an exaggerated need for fresh stimuli. That is why jazz imposes such merciless demands on its practitioners for constant innovation. And it is why European jazz, with its proprietary sources and idioms, is on everyone's radar screens.

Pan-Pan, by 32-year-old Swedish pianist Daniel Karlsson, could only come from outside the United States. It is absolutely jazz-accomplished and fiery jazz-but it approaches group form in unfamiliar ways. Karlsson uses two drummers, Jon Falt and Janne Robertson, and thereby deepens the density and the rhythmic complexity of his six-piece ensemble. It works because the recording is skillfully engineered by Janne Hansson. All instruments are clearly discriminated, with one drummer per channel. 

Tenor saxophonist Per "Texas" Johansson and trumpeter Magnus Broo (who are both strong enough to hold their own anywhere, including New York City) are also imaginatively deployed. They "solo," but often late, after weighing in on the ensemble's thematic development, and in expressions closely integrated with the total design of each piece. Karlsson's own piano lines are assertive and diverse, but they too are important because of their contribution to something larger-his ambitious formal concepts.

Pan-Pan is an exceptionally promising recording debut.</body>
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    <created-at type="datetime">2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00</created-at>
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    <summary>Fans of improvised music in general, and jazz in particular, are people with an exaggerated need for fresh stimuli. That is why jazz imposes such merciless demands on its practitioners for constant innovation. And it is why European jazz, with its proprietary sources and idioms, is on everyone's radar screens. Pan-Pan, by 32-year-old Swedish pianist Daniel Karlsson, could only come from outside the United States. It is absolutely jazz-accomplished and fiery jazz-but it approaches group form in unfamiliar ways. Karlsson uses two drummers, Jon Falt and Janne Robertson, and thereby deepens the density and the rhythmic complexity of his six-piece ensemble. It works because the recording is skillfully engineered by Janne Hansson. All instruments are clearly discriminated, with one drummer per channel. Tenor saxophonist Per "Texas" Johansson and trumpeter Magnus Broo (who are both strong enough to hold their own anywhere, including New York City) are also imaginatively deployed. They "solo," but often late, after weighing in on the ensemble's thematic development, and in expressions closely integrated with the total design of each piece. Karlsson's own piano lines are assertive and diverse, but they too are important because of their contribution to something larger-his ambitious formal concepts. Pan-Pan is an exceptionally promising recording debut.</summary>
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    <title>&lt;span class="name"&gt;Pan-Pan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="artist"&gt;Daniel Karlsson&lt;/span&gt;</title>
    <updated-at type="datetime">2009-03-02T00:24:59-05:00</updated-at>
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  </article>
  <article>
    <article-status-id type="integer">4</article-status-id>
    <body>The matter-of-fact title reflects the honest, workmanlike nature of this music. What Hakon Kornstad (tenor saxophone) and Havard Wiik (piano) do with the eight tunes they like is encounter them thoughtfully, with minds open to possibility; and with the freedom and space that a two-piece ensemble provides, they prod the songs for new insights.

Until now the most affecting version of Carla Bley's "Jesus Maria" was Gary Burton's solo vibraphone meditation from the 1976 ECM album Dreams So Real. Kornstad and Wiik are more open with it, and harder, and even more personal. "The Peacocks" is expansive yet respects (no, loves) Jimmy Rowles' greatest song. They create hovering mystery from Vernon Duke's "Autumn in New York." Only the first-ever jazz treatment of Webern's "Op. 7-Sehr Langsam" sounds like they are trying too hard.

Eight Tunes We Like moves deliberately but never drags because it always sounds intelligently conceived yet spontaneously discovered, moment by moment. Kornstad and Wiik, young musicians from Norway, succeed where more famous saxophonists and piano players have often failed. They have created a duo album that is complete in its creative realization, with no sense of missing instruments. 

Jan Erik Kongshaug engineered Eight Tunes We Like, and the sound has his signature lucidity.</body>
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    <summary>The matter-of-fact title reflects the honest, workmanlike nature of this music. What Hakon Kornstad (tenor saxophone) and Havard Wiik (piano) do with the eight tunes they like is encounter them thoughtfully, with minds open to possibility; and with the freedom and space that a two-piece ensemble provides, they prod the songs for new insights. Until now the most affecting version of Carla Bley's "Jesus Maria" was Gary Burton's solo vibraphone meditation from the 1976 ECM album Dreams So Real. Kornstad and Wiik are more open with it, and harder, and even more personal. "The Peacocks" is expansive yet respects (no, loves) Jimmy Rowles' greatest song. They create hovering mystery from Vernon Duke's "Autumn in New York." Only the first-ever jazz treatment of Webern's "Op. 7-Sehr Langsam" sounds like they are trying too hard. Eight Tunes We Like moves deliberately but never drags because it always sounds intelligently conceived yet spontaneously discovered, moment by moment. Kornstad and Wiik, young musicians from Norway, succeed where more famous saxophonists and piano players have often failed. They have created a duo album that is complete in its creative realization, with no sense of missing instruments. Jan Erik Kongshaug engineered Eight Tunes We Like, and the sound has his signature lucidity.</summary>
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    <title>&lt;span class="name"&gt;Eight Tunes We Like&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="artist"&gt;Hakon Kornstad, Havard Wiik&lt;/span&gt;</title>
    <updated-at type="datetime">2009-03-02T00:24:59-05:00</updated-at>
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  </article>
  <article>
    <article-status-id type="integer">4</article-status-id>
    <body>It turns out that all those critics and academics searching for a "third stream" back in the '60s were simply ahead of their time. The real cross-fertilization of jazz and classical music is happening now, in the work of European jazz players for whom classical music is a native language. 

Pianist-composer Jarmo Savolainen of Finland, now 44, had eight years of classical piano studies before he was 19 and has worked with the Finnish National Opera Orchestra. But for 20 years he has been a jazz musician first, and Soloduotrio places him with northern Europe's finest pianists, like Bobo Stenson, Marcin Wasilewski and Tord Gustavsen. The elegant clarity of Savolainen's ideas, and his touch, sensitive yet firmly declarative, are a single creative process.

Savolainen compositions like "Do I Care" and "Somebody Knows" feel classical in their proportional formality, but his interpretations of his own works are spontaneous and freely exploratory. Some pieces are minimalist but not simple. "Starbright" is chiming treble single notes like the pinpoints of stars in a night sky. "Evening Song" is a pristine, lyrical evocation of a mood and a time of day.

Sonny Heinila and Maria Ylipaa do not interrupt Savolainen's rapt pianistic unfoldings. They fit like his woodwind and voice alter egos.</body>
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    <subhead></subhead>
    <summary>It turns out that all those critics and academics searching for a "third stream" back in the '60s were simply ahead of their time. The real cross-fertilization of jazz and classical music is happening now, in the work of European jazz players for whom classical music is a native language. Pianist-composer Jarmo Savolainen of Finland, now 44, had eight years of classical piano studies before he was 19 and has worked with the Finnish National Opera Orchestra. But for 20 years he has been a jazz musician first, and Soloduotrio places him with northern Europe's finest pianists, like Bobo Stenson, Marcin Wasilewski and Tord Gustavsen. The elegant clarity of Savolainen's ideas, and his touch, sensitive yet firmly declarative, are a single creative process. Savolainen compositions like "Do I Care" and "Somebody Knows" feel classical in their proportional formality, but his interpretations of his own works are spontaneous and freely exploratory. Some pieces are minimalist but not simple. "Starbright" is chiming treble single notes like the pinpoints of stars in a night sky. "Evening Song" is a pristine, lyrical evocation of a mood and a time of day. Sonny Heinila and Maria Ylipaa do not interrupt Savolainen's rapt pianistic unfoldings. They fit like his woodwind and voice alter egos.</summary>
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    <title>&lt;span class="name"&gt;Soloduotrio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="artist"&gt;Jarmo Savolainen&lt;/span&gt;</title>
    <updated-at type="datetime">2009-03-02T00:24:59-05:00</updated-at>
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  <article>
    <article-status-id type="integer">4</article-status-id>
    <body>Kasper Villaume's last album, 117 Ditmas Avenue, is an impressive trio date that announced an accomplished, aggressively two-handed young Danish pianist. This quartet session, #2, actually predates that announcement. It was recorded in December 2002, 18 months prior to 117 Ditmas Avenue, and it reconfirms that this pianist is for real.

Villaume is atypical of most gifted young improvising musicians now coming out of Scandinavia. He is less interested in accessing his Nordic cultural roots to bring fresh sounds and concepts into jazz, and more interested in beating the best modern-mainstream players in New York at their own game.
Villaume is already competitive. Put on #2 without looking at the cover, and you might guess that you are listening to David Hazeltine with Eric Alexander, or maybe David Berkman with Joel Frahm. Villaume's band, with tenor saxophonist Lars Moller, bassist Jesper Bodilsen and drummer Morten Lund, is that smart and that cocky.

And Villaume digs deep, albeit not yet in new ground. He writes strong tunes (like "The Speedmaster," paradoxically unhurried), and offers interesting takes on standards (like "My Man's Gone Now" as a backbeat funk reverie).</body>
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    <id type="integer">16131</id>
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    <summary>Kasper Villaume's last album, 117 Ditmas Avenue, is an impressive trio date that announced an accomplished, aggressively two-handed young Danish pianist. This quartet session, #2, actually predates that announcement. It was recorded in December 2002, 18 months prior to 117 Ditmas Avenue, and it reconfirms that this pianist is for real. Villaume is atypical of most gifted young improvising musicians now coming out of Scandinavia. He is less interested in accessing his Nordic cultural roots to bring fresh sounds and concepts into jazz, and more interested in beating the best modern-mainstream players in New York at their own game. Villaume is already competitive. Put on #2 without looking at the cover, and you might guess that you are listening to David Hazeltine with Eric Alexander, or maybe David Berkman with Joel Frahm. Villaume's band, with tenor saxophonist Lars Moller, bassist Jesper Bodilsen and drummer Morten Lund, is that smart and that cocky. And Villaume digs deep, albeit not yet in new ground. He writes strong tunes (like "The Speedmaster," paradoxically unhurried), and offers interesting takes on standards (like "My Man's Gone Now" as a backbeat funk reverie).</summary>
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    <title>&lt;span class="name"&gt;#2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="artist"&gt;Kasper Villaume Quartet&lt;/span&gt;</title>
    <updated-at type="datetime">2009-03-02T00:24:59-05:00</updated-at>
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  <article>
    <article-status-id type="integer">4</article-status-id>
    <body>In the August 2004 issue of JazzTimes, reviewer Chris Kelsey spoke for many of us who share his special (some would say kinky) musical cravings. Kelsey copped to "a bias for...cojones-out, collectively improvised free jazz," and acknowledged "after a steady diet of "ching-chinga-ching...a little no-holds-barred creative anarchy can really hit the spot." For those with an occasional itch that only creative anarchy can scratch, the Zanussi Five stands ready.

The only shred of precedent here is the second half of "Azrah Illusion/Street Woman," which is from Ornette Coleman's 1971 album Science Fiction. But "Street Woman" is more a braying, harrowing wail than a song, and the three saxophonists-Kjetil Moster, Erik Nystrom and Eirik Hegdal-even shatter that fragmentary form: instead of "playing" it, they make their horns snort, sputter and whistle it. 

Bassist Per Zanussi leads this Norwegian quintet, which must be like herding cats. Still, the wildly idiosyncratic shapes of Zanussi's compositions do provide approximate rules of engagement. This is indeed creative anarchy, both deadpan and frantic, executed with notable technical facility. Sometimes, like on "Valzer," this bent band even swings. The flipside to Kelsey's admission is that, after cacophonous relativity, ching-chinga-ching can feel pretty good.</body>
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    <id type="integer">16132</id>
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    <subhead></subhead>
    <summary>In the August 2004 issue of JazzTimes, reviewer Chris Kelsey spoke for many of us who share his special (some would say kinky) musical cravings. Kelsey copped to "a bias for...cojones-out, collectively improvised free jazz," and acknowledged "after a steady diet of "ching-chinga-ching...a little no-holds-barred creative anarchy can really hit the spot." For those with an occasional itch that only creative anarchy can scratch, the Zanussi Five stands ready. The only shred of precedent here is the second half of "Azrah Illusion/Street Woman," which is from Ornette Coleman's 1971 album Science Fiction. But "Street Woman" is more a braying, harrowing wail than a song, and the three saxophonists-Kjetil Moster, Erik Nystrom and Eirik Hegdal-even shatter that fragmentary form: instead of "playing" it, they make their horns snort, sputter and whistle it. Bassist Per Zanussi leads this Norwegian quintet, which must be like herding cats. Still, the wildly idiosyncratic shapes of Zanussi's compositions do provide approximate rules of engagement. This is indeed creative anarchy, both deadpan and frantic, executed with notable technical facility. Sometimes, like on "Valzer," this bent band even swings. The flipside to Kelsey's admission is that, after cacophonous relativity, ching-chinga-ching can feel pretty good.</summary>
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    <title>&lt;span class="name"&gt;Zanussi Five&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="artist"&gt;Zanussi Five&lt;/span&gt;</title>
    <updated-at type="datetime">2009-03-13T15:22:26-04:00</updated-at>
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  <article>
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    <body>It is an obligation of the record reviewer to provide, at minimum, a usefully accurate characterization of music under consideration. But describing Anderskov Accident, an electric/acoustic, manic/meticulous, sarcastic/earnest Danish octet led by keyboardist-composer-conceptualist Jacob Anderskov, is not easy.

You start with a dense acoustic ensemble whose core is the electronic high rasp and low hum of Anderskov's Rhodes and Jeppe Skovbakke's bass, respectively. Anderskov writes pieces that start as slow drones ("Den Onde Cirkel"), or hollering contrapuntal repetitions ("The Sick Man"), or calm single-instrument theme statements ("What Roots"), or noise ("Handy Week"). But all tunes morph. The ensemble might careen and rave and threaten to fly apart, but eventually synchs up on Anderskov's intricate, irregularly shaped charts and strategically placed moaning riffs.

The soloists-Anderskov, trumpeter Kasper Tranberg, trombonist Peter Dahlgren, reedists Laura Toxvard, Ned Ferm and Anders Banke-are all persuasive in their diatribes. The most off-the-wall is Toxvard, whose alto saxophone is all too credible as "The Sick Man." What makes their individual extravagances both exciting and meaningful is that they grow out of and into Anderskov's overall designs. The music of Anderskov Accident is volatile but not accidental.</body>
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    <subhead></subhead>
    <summary>It is an obligation of the record reviewer to provide, at minimum, a usefully accurate characterization of music under consideration. But describing Anderskov Accident, an electric/acoustic, manic/meticulous, sarcastic/earnest Danish octet led by keyboardist-composer-conceptualist Jacob Anderskov, is not easy. You start with a dense acoustic ensemble whose core is the electronic high rasp and low hum of Anderskov's Rhodes and Jeppe Skovbakke's bass, respectively. Anderskov writes pieces that start as slow drones ("Den Onde Cirkel"), or hollering contrapuntal repetitions ("The Sick Man"), or calm single-instrument theme statements ("What Roots"), or noise ("Handy Week"). But all tunes morph. The ensemble might careen and rave and threaten to fly apart, but eventually synchs up on Anderskov's intricate, irregularly shaped charts and strategically placed moaning riffs. The soloists-Anderskov, trumpeter Kasper Tranberg, trombonist Peter Dahlgren, reedists Laura Toxvard, Ned Ferm and Anders Banke-are all persuasive in their diatribes. The most off-the-wall is Toxvard, whose alto saxophone is all too credible as "The Sick Man." What makes their individual extravagances both exciting and meaningful is that they grow out of and into Anderskov's overall designs. The music of Anderskov Accident is volatile but not accidental.</summary>
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    <title>&lt;span class="name"&gt;Unity of Action&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="artist"&gt;Anderskov Accident&lt;/span&gt;</title>
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    <body>There are many industry pessimists who doubt that SACD will survive as a format. Libera Me is one more reason to hope they are wrong. The impact of Lars Danielsson's seductive, emotionally authentic music is inseparable from its rendering in the enveloping sound of multichannel SACD.

Like other bassists in a distinguished lineage of Scandinavians (the late Niels-Henning Orsted Pedersen, Palle Danielsson, Anders Jormin, et al), Danielsson is a soloist capable of making his instrument as articulate and expressive as any horn-but darker and more evocative. On Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now," in a duet with drummer Jon Christensen, he gives this much-covered song one of its freest and most affecting interpretations. But Libera Me is much more about Danielsson's compositions, fully revealed by a large ensemble including the Danish Radio Concert Orchestra. 

The wide, deep sonic field made possible by 5.1-channel SACD is like an irresistible embrace by clouds of sound. That embrace unifies Danielsson's rich, varied compositions into a single journey of discovery. Through all those yearning violins, several strong instrumental voices find their way into the story, including Nils Petter Molvaer's poignant trumpet and David Liebman's heraldic soprano saxophone.</body>
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    <subhead></subhead>
    <summary>There are many industry pessimists who doubt that SACD will survive as a format. Libera Me is one more reason to hope they are wrong. The impact of Lars Danielsson's seductive, emotionally authentic music is inseparable from its rendering in the enveloping sound of multichannel SACD. Like other bassists in a distinguished lineage of Scandinavians (the late Niels-Henning Orsted Pedersen, Palle Danielsson, Anders Jormin, et al), Danielsson is a soloist capable of making his instrument as articulate and expressive as any horn-but darker and more evocative. On Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now," in a duet with drummer Jon Christensen, he gives this much-covered song one of its freest and most affecting interpretations. But Libera Me is much more about Danielsson's compositions, fully revealed by a large ensemble including the Danish Radio Concert Orchestra. The wide, deep sonic field made possible by 5.1-channel SACD is like an irresistible embrace by clouds of sound. That embrace unifies Danielsson's rich, varied compositions into a single journey of discovery. Through all those yearning violins, several strong instrumental voices find their way into the story, including Nils Petter Molvaer's poignant trumpet and David Liebman's heraldic soprano saxophone.</summary>
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    <title>&lt;span class="name"&gt;Libera Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="artist"&gt;Lars Danielsson&lt;/span&gt;</title>
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    <body>Eclexistence reveals how much fertile soil was left untilled, 40-plus years ago, by pianoless free quartets like those of Ornette Coleman and Tomasz Stanko-Edward Vesala. Coleman and Stanko introduced a particular open-air concept, with floating but intense bass-and-drum energy supporting stark saxophone and trumpet abstractions-and then Coleman and Stanko moved on. 

Delirium is still interested in exploring the challenges and stimulations of this nowhere-to-hide format. The musicians are all young, and either Finnish (multireed player Mikko Innanen) or Danish (cornetist Kasper Tranberg, bassist Jonas Westergaard, drummer Stefan Pasborg). The opener, "Drive-Thru," has that headlong, anything-is-possible exhilaration of Coleman and Don Cherry at full rip. Tranberg and Innanen are absolutely up to the creative challenge, with meaningful subjective excursions, and so are Westergaard and Pasborg, who lay it down loose but hard.

Not that Delirium is imitative. They are more interested in detailed compositional form than their ancestors. They are more given to broad satire. Their works possess more dynamic range, sometimes diminishing to just-audible whispers and taps.

There are both studio and live tracks here. Live (e.g. "Iki"), Delirium is more inclined to direct gut-spilling improvisation, where all four excel. In the studio (e.g. "Jazz &amp; Poultry"), they sometimes get stuck in self-indulgent cleverness.</body>
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    <summary>Eclexistence reveals how much fertile soil was left untilled, 40-plus years ago, by pianoless free quartets like those of Ornette Coleman and Tomasz Stanko-Edward Vesala. Coleman and Stanko introduced a particular open-air concept, with floating but intense bass-and-drum energy supporting stark saxophone and trumpet abstractions-and then Coleman and Stanko moved on. Delirium is still interested in exploring the challenges and stimulations of this nowhere-to-hide format. The musicians are all young, and either Finnish (multireed player Mikko Innanen) or Danish (cornetist Kasper Tranberg, bassist Jonas Westergaard, drummer Stefan Pasborg). The opener, "Drive-Thru," has that headlong, anything-is-possible exhilaration of Coleman and Don Cherry at full rip. Tranberg and Innanen are absolutely up to the creative challenge, with meaningful subjective excursions, and so are Westergaard and Pasborg, who lay it down loose but hard. Not that Delirium is imitative. They are more interested in detailed compositional form than their ancestors. They are more given to broad satire. Their works possess more dynamic range, sometimes diminishing to just-audible whispers and taps. There are both studio and live tracks here. Live (e.g. "Iki"), Delirium is more inclined to direct gut-spilling improvisation, where all four excel. In the studio (e.g. "Jazz &amp; Poultry"), they sometimes get stuck in self-indulgent cleverness.</summary>
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    <title>&lt;span class="name"&gt;Eclexistence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="artist"&gt;Delirium&lt;/span&gt;</title>
    <updated-at type="datetime">2009-03-02T00:24:59-05:00</updated-at>
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    <body>Petri Haussila's liner notes to Short Stories provide an object lesson for proof readers everywhere, informing us that the pianist in this Finnish duo, Eero Ojanen, was influenced by "Bud Bowel." Haussila does not explain the seven-year delay in releasing this music, self-recorded in Helsinki in 1998. After spending time with this album, it is reasonable to wonder why it was released at all. Short Stories has some interesting moments, but they are too few and will be discovered only by the extremely patient.

The duo-the other half is bassist Teppo Hauta-aho-plays 14 completely unplanned, improvised pieces. Ojanen and Hauta-aho have been active members of Finland's music scene for 40 years. Both know their way around their instruments, and might have gotten into something worthwhile had they chosen to deal with material of substance, whether provided by themselves or others. As it is, they noodle and meander and gesture and fidget and splash and scrape and generally experiment on the listener's time. Some pieces, like "Haloo-Haloo," are so uneventful that they evaporate. Others, like "A Firefly Story," are unlistenable. This album will motivate many who hear it to grab their remote-control devices and choose "next track" or, worse, "stop."</body>
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    <summary>Petri Haussila's liner notes to Short Stories provide an object lesson for proof readers everywhere, informing us that the pianist in this Finnish duo, Eero Ojanen, was influenced by "Bud Bowel." Haussila does not explain the seven-year delay in releasing this music, self-recorded in Helsinki in 1998. After spending time with this album, it is reasonable to wonder why it was released at all. Short Stories has some interesting moments, but they are too few and will be discovered only by the extremely patient. The duo-the other half is bassist Teppo Hauta-aho-plays 14 completely unplanned, improvised pieces. Ojanen and Hauta-aho have been active members of Finland's music scene for 40 years. Both know their way around their instruments, and might have gotten into something worthwhile had they chosen to deal with material of substance, whether provided by themselves or others. As it is, they noodle and meander and gesture and fidget and splash and scrape and generally experiment on the listener's time. Some pieces, like "Haloo-Haloo," are so uneventful that they evaporate. Others, like "A Firefly Story," are unlistenable. This album will motivate many who hear it to grab their remote-control devices and choose "next track" or, worse, "stop."</summary>
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    <title>&lt;span class="name"&gt;Short Stories&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="artist"&gt;Duo Nueva Finlandia&lt;/span&gt;</title>
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    <body>In this beautifully produced CD package, one of the many photographs is an outdoor group shot. The 10 musicians of Loco Motife, swathed in scarves and fur parkas and stocking caps, make Porvoo, Finland, from whence Penguin Beguine emanates, look like a very cold place.

The music is far from cold, though it's quite odd. The coleaders are keyboardist Iro Haarla (widow of Finland's most famous jazz musician, Edward Vesala) and Ulf Krokfors (one of the band's two bassists). One of the unusual aspects is the stark juxtaposition of compositional structure and individual freedom. Even the most frenzied collective improvisations, like on the title track, cohere back to planned counterpoint. There is visceral excitement in this ensemble's electric bite and edgy texture, but unfortunately the most prominent voice is Haarla's. We are told that many of her keyboard instruments (Yamaha DX-7, BBG synthesizer, Emax sampler, et al) are vintage models. But she treats them like new toys, unable to resist their vast capacity for twitters and gurgles and burps. Haarla's ungrammatical English lyrics on the only vocal, "Beside You," are inane and sentimental.

Still, Loco Motife sounds like no other band, and you should go hear them the next time you're in Porvoo. Bundle up.</body>
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    <summary>In this beautifully produced CD package, one of the many photographs is an outdoor group shot. The 10 musicians of Loco Motife, swathed in scarves and fur parkas and stocking caps, make Porvoo, Finland, from whence Penguin Beguine emanates, look like a very cold place. The music is far from cold, though it's quite odd. The coleaders are keyboardist Iro Haarla (widow of Finland's most famous jazz musician, Edward Vesala) and Ulf Krokfors (one of the band's two bassists). One of the unusual aspects is the stark juxtaposition of compositional structure and individual freedom. Even the most frenzied collective improvisations, like on the title track, cohere back to planned counterpoint. There is visceral excitement in this ensemble's electric bite and edgy texture, but unfortunately the most prominent voice is Haarla's. We are told that many of her keyboard instruments (Yamaha DX-7, BBG synthesizer, Emax sampler, et al) are vintage models. But she treats them like new toys, unable to resist their vast capacity for twitters and gurgles and burps. Haarla's ungrammatical English lyrics on the only vocal, "Beside You," are inane and sentimental. Still, Loco Motife sounds like no other band, and you should go hear them the next time you're in Porvoo. Bundle up.</summary>
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    <title>&lt;span class="name"&gt;Penguin Beguine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="artist"&gt;Loco Motife&lt;/span&gt;</title>
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    <body>Jaga Jazzist co-leader Lars Horntveth is a prodigy, having started the band and recorded an album by the time he was 14. The reedist/guitarist/keyboardist released his first solo CD last year, the incredible Pooka (Smalltown Supersound), which won Norway's equivalent of a Grammy for best electronica album. And along with his Jaga and real-life bro, drummer Martin Horntveth, he's one of the primaries in the Norwegian chart-topping pop band the National Bank. 

It's Lars' talent that provides the 10-member Jaga Jazzist with the majority of its postjazz/rocktronica sound and vision. With a huge array of musicians and instruments at his disposal he can go large scale with the group's compositions and arrangements, which has helped the now 11-year-old band reach an international audience beyond the fjords. What We Must (Ninja Tune) is the band's latest long-player, and it's another grand experience, with seven expertly arranged, multitiered songs featuring plenty of strings, horns and electronics.

The shoegaze-meets-prog rocker "All I Know Is Tonight" and "Stardust Hotel,"  which features a descending keyboard riff and sound straight out of Dennis DeYoung's bag of Styx, open the album with jolts. The low-key "For All You Happy People" sounds like it could have come from Lars' solo CD, with its airy sax lines (so close-miked that you can hear the player's inhalations and the pads hitting the keyholes), guitar harmonics and layered keyboard squiggles. "Swedenborgske Rom" starts with layered, harmonized voices and builds into a wall-of-sound ballad. "Mikado" and "I Have a Ghost, Now What?" are like Muzak for the postrock set-but in a good way-especially in the manner the wordless voices (sung live on the former and played as keyboard samples on the latter) carry melodies that might normally be played by strings. 

I'm not sure how well track four, "Oslo Skyline," captures its subject, but I do know that Jaga Jazzist represents some of the best things in modern Norwegian music.</body>
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    <summary>Jaga Jazzist co-leader Lars Horntveth is a prodigy, having started the band and recorded an album by the time he was 14. The reedist/guitarist/keyboardist released his first solo CD last year, the incredible Pooka (Smalltown Supersound), which won Norway's equivalent of a Grammy for best electronica album. And along with his Jaga and real-life bro, drummer Martin Horntveth, he's one of the primaries in the Norwegian chart-topping pop band the National Bank. It's Lars' talent that provides the 10-member Jaga Jazzist with the majority of its postjazz/rocktronica sound and vision. With a huge array of musicians and instruments at his disposal he can go large scale with the group's compositions and arrangements, which has helped the now 11-year-old band reach an international audience beyond the fjords. What We Must (Ninja Tune) is the band's latest long-player, and it's another grand experience, with seven expertly arranged, multitiered songs featuring plenty of strings, horns and electronics. The shoegaze-meets-prog rocker "All I Know Is Tonight" and "Stardust Hotel," which features a descending keyboard riff and sound straight out of Dennis DeYoung's bag of Styx, open the album with jolts. The low-key "For All You Happy People" sounds like it could have come from Lars' solo CD, with its airy sax lines (so close-miked that you can hear the player's inhalations and the pads hitting the keyholes), guitar harmonics and layered keyboard squiggles. "Swedenborgske Rom" starts with layered, harmonized voices and builds into a wall-of-sound ballad. "Mikado" and "I Have a Ghost, Now What?" are like Muzak for the postrock...</summary>
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    <body>The Core is led by drummer Espen Aalberg, and his playing-busy and powerful but not distracting or overwhelming-is front and center on Vision (Jazzaway). On "Pharoah" (written by bassist Steinar Raknes) and "7th Father" the music builds like mid-'60s Coltrane, with Erlend Slettevoll playing McCoy Tyner to Kjetil Moster's John Coltrane. Moster overblows his sax, but not with Ayler-esque screams. He often stays in the middle register, sometimes sliding out of intonation as he forces a gale-force of air through his horn. For the riveting "Zaire," a traditional African song, the band based its arrangement on that of saxophonist Courtney Pine from his 1991 Verve album Within the Realms of Our Dreams. The Core doubles up the theme's ostinato with low-end piano and bass, making for a rich dark sound before the music opens up to brighter tonal colors.

Vision's five tunes are all uptempo and fierce, but not in a free-jazz way. The band is simply on fire and doesn't want to douse the flames by cooling out on a track, which is fine by me.</body>
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    <summary>The Core is led by drummer Espen Aalberg, and his playing-busy and powerful but not distracting or overwhelming-is front and center on Vision (Jazzaway). On "Pharoah" (written by bassist Steinar Raknes) and "7th Father" the music builds like mid-'60s Coltrane, with Erlend Slettevoll playing McCoy Tyner to Kjetil Moster's John Coltrane. Moster overblows his sax, but not with Ayler-esque screams. He often stays in the middle register, sometimes sliding out of intonation as he forces a gale-force of air through his horn. For the riveting "Zaire," a traditional African song, the band based its arrangement on that of saxophonist Courtney Pine from his 1991 Verve album Within the Realms of Our Dreams. The Core doubles up the theme's ostinato with low-end piano and bass, making for a rich dark sound before the music opens up to brighter tonal colors. Vision's five tunes are all uptempo and fierce, but not in a free-jazz way. The band is simply on fire and doesn't want to douse the flames by cooling out on a track, which is fine by me.</summary>
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    <title>&lt;span class="name"&gt;Vision&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="artist"&gt;The Core&lt;/span&gt;</title>
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    <body>Trinity is led by Kjetil Moster, and his Coltrane-isms continue on Sparkling (Jazzaway), though the power of his horn is dimmed a touch by a roomy mix. "Trinity (For Gato Barbieri)" is lower key, but the band blasts off on "Locked Room (For Paul Auster)." (Moster doesn't sound like Ken Vandermark, but he does share the multireedist's penchant for naming tunes after fellow artists.) The four-part "Suite for Marge" recalls the vibrant sprawl of Sonny Rollins' trio sessions. "Part III" is especially beautiful, though, with drummer Thomas Stronen using the tips of his drumsticks to eek out high-pitched but not annoying cymbal squeaks and Moster creating fragile sax melodies that seem to come straight from human speech.</body>
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    <summary>Trinity is led by Kjetil Moster, and his Coltrane-isms continue on Sparkling (Jazzaway), though the power of his horn is dimmed a touch by a roomy mix. "Trinity (For Gato Barbieri)" is lower key, but the band blasts off on "Locked Room (For Paul Auster)." (Moster doesn't sound like Ken Vandermark, but he does share the multireedist's penchant for naming tunes after fellow artists.) The four-part "Suite for Marge" recalls the vibrant sprawl of Sonny Rollins' trio sessions. "Part III" is especially beautiful, though, with drummer Thomas Stronen using the tips of his drumsticks to eek out high-pitched but not annoying cymbal squeaks and Moster creating fragile sax melodies that seem to come straight from human speech.</summary>
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    <title>&lt;span class="name"&gt;Sparkling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="artist"&gt;Trinity&lt;/span&gt;</title>
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    <body>Thomas Stronen is also the drummer on Bayashi's Rock (Jazzaway), a free-jazz recording featuring multireedist Vidar Johansen and legendary bassist Bjornar Andresen, who died last year. Andresen came up with the likes of Jan Garbarek and played with Terje Rypdal in the free-jazz (and sometimes funk) power trio Min Bul, and he's been described as something of a father figure to today's crop of Norwegian jazzers. This five-track, expertly recorded live date-so clear that I didn't realize it was made in a club until after I read the credits-is Euro free-jazz (part chamber, part energy) with a dash of psyche-rock, primarily in the way Andresen treats his bass with gurgley electronics. Rock isn't a must-have, but it's a nice memento of one of the cofounders of modern Norwegian jazz.</body>
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    <summary>Thomas Stronen is also the drummer on Bayashi's Rock (Jazzaway), a free-jazz recording featuring multireedist Vidar Johansen and legendary bassist Bjornar Andresen, who died last year. Andresen came up with the likes of Jan Garbarek and played with Terje Rypdal in the free-jazz (and sometimes funk) power trio Min Bul, and he's been described as something of a father figure to today's crop of Norwegian jazzers. This five-track, expertly recorded live date-so clear that I didn't realize it was made in a club until after I read the credits-is Euro free-jazz (part chamber, part energy) with a dash of psyche-rock, primarily in the way Andresen treats his bass with gurgley electronics. Rock isn't a must-have, but it's a nice memento of one of the cofounders of modern Norwegian jazz.</summary>
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    <body>The title of Trygve Seim's latest CD, Sangam (ECM), means "confluence" or "learned gathering" in Sanskrit, or sometimes it's used to describe the meeting point of three rivers. Naming your album Third Stream ain't as arty, but that's what the tenor/soprano saxophonist is getting at and in which he excels. The core of the subtle yet often stunning Sangam is performed by a nine-piece jazz group that mines classical-leaning textures and compositions tinged with Norwegian folk music, which is particularly brought out by accordionist Frode Haltli. Seim writes meditative melodic bits and stitches these delicates together into long-form tunes, such as the title track and the, ahem, Lord of the Rings-conjuring "Dansante," or suites, as is the case with "Himmelrand i Tidevand," which is augmented by trombones, strings and a conductor. Havard Lund (clarinet, bass clarinet) and Nils Jansen (bass saxophone, contrabass clarinet) provide deep, dark tonal support for Seim's airy, Jan Garbarek-influenced playing, while the remarkable trumpeter Arve Henriksen plays the mirrorlike brass counterpart to the leader's reeds.</body>
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    <summary>The title of Trygve Seim's latest CD, Sangam (ECM), means "confluence" or "learned gathering" in Sanskrit, or sometimes it's used to describe the meeting point of three rivers. Naming your album Third Stream ain't as arty, but that's what the tenor/soprano saxophonist is getting at and in which he excels. The core of the subtle yet often stunning Sangam is performed by a nine-piece jazz group that mines classical-leaning textures and compositions tinged with Norwegian folk music, which is particularly brought out by accordionist Frode Haltli. Seim writes meditative melodic bits and stitches these delicates together into long-form tunes, such as the title track and the, ahem, Lord of the Rings-conjuring "Dansante," or suites, as is the case with "Himmelrand i Tidevand," which is augmented by trombones, strings and a conductor. Havard Lund (clarinet, bass clarinet) and Nils Jansen (bass saxophone, contrabass clarinet) provide deep, dark tonal support for Seim's airy, Jan Garbarek-influenced playing, while the remarkable trumpeter Arve Henriksen plays the mirrorlike brass counterpart to the leader's reeds.</summary>
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    <body>Food is another band that features Arve Henriksen, joined by bassist Mats Eilersten and the English saxophonist Iain Ballamy and drummer Thomas Stronen. The group's second disc, Last Supper (Rune Grammofon), is one more dazzling example of the sort of intelligent, beatific, ambient electro-jazz that pours out of Norway. Unlike Henriksen's group Supersilent, which focuses on noise as ambience, Food hews closer to the trumpeter-vocalist's solo records Chiaroscuro and Sakuteiki (both Rune Grammofon), which are bathed in his breathy brass exhalations and mountaintop tenor glossolalia. More than keeping time, Stronen plays coloristic percussive timbres. But as on the more beat-crazy Humcrush (Rune Grammofone), his improv-duets CD with keyboardist Stale Storlokken, Stronen drums in an open-ended style without letting the music fall apart.

Henriksen comes from the world of experimental Don Cherry and electric Miles Davis as well as that of his fellow trumpeting/singing Norwegian Per Jorgensen. But he's such a singular horn player with a well-defined aesthetic that Henriksen's musical approach might be considered a style unto itself.</body>
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    <issue-id type="integer">91</issue-id>
    <issue-sortdate>200505</issue-sortdate>
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    <parent-id type="integer">0</parent-id>
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    <section-id type="integer">103</section-id>
    <sortdate type="datetime">2005-05-01T00:00:00-04:00</sortdate>
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    <subhead></subhead>
    <summary>Food is another band that features Arve Henriksen, joined by bassist Mats Eilersten and the English saxophonist Iain Ballamy and drummer Thomas Stronen. The group's second disc, Last Supper (Rune Grammofon), is one more dazzling example of the sort of intelligent, beatific, ambient electro-jazz that pours out of Norway. Unlike Henriksen's group Supersilent, which focuses on noise as ambience, Food hews closer to the trumpeter-vocalist's solo records Chiaroscuro and Sakuteiki (both Rune Grammofon), which are bathed in his breathy brass exhalations and mountaintop tenor glossolalia. More than keeping time, Stronen plays coloristic percussive timbres. But as on the more beat-crazy Humcrush (Rune Grammofone), his improv-duets CD with keyboardist Stale Storlokken, Stronen drums in an open-ended style without letting the music fall apart. Henriksen comes from the world of experimental Don Cherry and electric Miles Davis as well as that of his fellow trumpeting/singing Norwegian Per Jorgensen. But he's such a singular horn player with a well-defined aesthetic that Henriksen's musical approach might be considered a style unto itself.</summary>
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    <title>&lt;span class="name"&gt;Last Supper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="artist"&gt;Food&lt;/span&gt;</title>
    <updated-at type="datetime">2009-03-02T00:24:41-05:00</updated-at>
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  </article>
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