Jaga Jazzist
A Livingroom Hush

Ahhh Norway!!! What a fascinating land; a chilly cradle of a civil and respectful people, nurturer of interesting movements and musical realities that have their roots in a broad-ranging culture, and, at least in its most apparent expressions, in perpetual renewal.

Among the proposals that have had the opportunity to nourish the Scandinavian cultural and musical substratum, a leading role is surely played by Jaga Jazzist, an original ensemble that has managed to channel musicians from diverse influences (jazz primarily, but also electronica, acoustic, rock, ambient, etc.) into a single creative hub, revolving around the compositional brilliance of Lars Horntveth, who is also the founder of the group.

I highly recommend "A Livingroom Hush", released under the Ninja Tune label in 2001, as it is a complete, well-arranged work that offers a clear and satisfying overview of the Jaga Jazzist sound universe.

In the organic conception of the work, the use of jazz as a unifying matrix does not define spaces permeated by extreme improvisation; rather, it is absolutely functional to the construction of simple and striking melodies, often sweet, sometimes more theatrical, other times overtly brazen, but ultimately incredibly brilliant.

Amidst bursts of electronics and rapid harmonic progressions begins "Animal Chin", lively and compulsive in its stride, a perfect example along with "Midget" of how the Jaga can manage the potential of electronics and synthesizers without becoming verbose. Hardly time to realize the dance has begun when an enticing "Going Down" emerges, through delicate interweavings of arpeggiated acoustic guitar and sax, driven by a decidedly pressing rhythmic drive, in which the bass and drums prove to be perfectly symbiotic and interconnected. We then navigate the swaying oscillations of the warm and extemporaneous "Press Play" until we reach the delicate hypnotic whispers of a teasing "Airborne", a track with a fleetingly relaxed intro, gaining more and more momentum and intensity, thanks to the precious addition in series of a captivatingly accented double bass and a string section (capable of creating space for a brilliant sax outburst), to fade back into that characteristic, intangible initial tranquility, extinguishing in a descending vortex of musical sensuality.

Aside from the raw and abrasive "Real Racecars Have The Doors" (where distortions and keyboard delusions are perfectly counterbalanced by very elegant jazz cues), in tracks like "Low Battery", partly "Lithuania" and the superb "Made For Radio" reveals the more romantic and impactful side of Jaga, embellished by rarefied and crystalline atmospheres, making everything seem suspended and floating. The expansive emotional range evoked and awakened by the listening is closed by the poignant and reflective "Cinematic", a true emblem of pure pathos, and the final piece of an iridescent mosaic in its genuine spontaneity.

So, having come to the end of this brief excursion, I can only reiterate my advice to listen not only to this album but also to other works by the legendary Jaga (especially "The Stix" and the latest "What We Must" more than worthily reviewed on this site).

If you're in search of great music, I guarantee you won't regret it.