Keith Jarrett
Belonging

There's no point in racking my brain: I will never be able to find a logical connection between jazz and Scandinavia. However, every time I glance through a jazz history book, I am consistently reminded that in the immediate post-war period, the European cities most open to the illustrious black music were Paris and... Stockholm! I can only take this fact as given, with all that it entails, meaning not only the formation of a cultured and attentive audience but also and above all a rich flourishing of valid epigones of the greatest jazz musicians, whose fame remained confined to their countries of origin, with a few rare exceptions. Such fervor, still active at the beginning of the 1970s, could not leave an educated and positively curious musician like Keith Jarrett indifferent, open to knowledge of the various aspects of jazz, but also to every possibility of contamination with other music genres, including classical music. Frenzied as never before, in 1974 Keith Jarrett was involved in at least five or six projects, ranging from the refined and ethnic "Backhand," played with his "American quartet," to "Get Up With It," the last album with Miles Davis. Meanwhile, somewhere in his expansive mind was taking shape the brilliant insight that in January 1975 would materialize into the legendary "Köln Concert." How he also found the time to make a trip to Norway is hard to understand, but in compensation, the main reason that drove him to those latitudes is well known: Jan Garbarek.

At the time very young, the Norwegian saxophonist had already impressed the great pianist, who did not hesitate a moment when offered the opportunity to make a record with his protégé. It was done by the producer Manfred Eicher, synonymous with ECM, which in turn is synonymous with music of the highest quality. With the contribution of two skilled Scandinavian musicians, bassist Palle Danielsson and drummer Jon Christensen, a "Nordic quartet" was created for Keith Jarrett, which perfectly hits the debut with a top-class record, with perfect and crystalline sound, which seems created specifically to proudly bear the ECM label. It is titled "Belonging," and its recording requires very few rehearsals, a sign of immediate understanding. Everything suggests harmony and balance, starting from the regular alternation of three brilliant rhythmic pieces with three dreamy "ballads." It is taken for granted that it is "him" in all the tracks, and that is more than enough. The real surprise is Jan Garbarek: anyone familiar with the icy and piercing "siren" (soprano sax) of his best-known masterpieces will instead find here a very versatile saxophonist, capable of transitioning from the warm and sensual blow of "Blossom" to the shrill and wrenching lament of "Solstice." From the first notes, a clear distinction emerges between the two soloists (Jarrett and Garbarek) and the two competent sidemen, even though one of them, Palle Danielsson, offers more than one pleasant surprise. Despite a rather untoward first name, Palle proves to be anything but monotonous, frequently breaking free from his accompanying role to deliver us sparkling outbursts from his double bass. We start off strong: "Spiral Dance" has liveliness that envies little of certain frenetic "fusion" of Weather Report, with Jarrett busy weaving a solid web of nervous and metallic notes, on which Garbarek's nimble sax performs marvelous acrobatics. "Blossom" is a languid "ballad" that captures the ear and leads it into a soft cloud, where the sax whispers a heavenly melody, the piano sows fragments of sparkling notes exactly where needed, and even the double bass adds its sweet rumble to this enchantment. "Long As You Know You're Living Yours" is a finger snap that brings us back to earth, but to a reality full of festive Latin rhythms, with Garbarek's sax warm and unbridled like the trumpet of a Mexican small orchestra. "Belonging" is like an apparition, a miracle, a sign that perfection exists and occasionally manifests itself, even if only for a short time. Indeed, it lasts only two minutes, in which piano and sax lovingly duet over a sublime melody; bass and drums remain silent, respectful and (probably) enchanted. "The Windup" is another thrilling whirlwind of notes, but the solos of the two "monsters" are so clean that they stand out crisply from the rest. It ends in glory with "Solstice," which starts as a tender "ballad" in the style of "Blossom," but gradually evolves into a dense and elaborate web of sounds, increasingly intense and poignant, and at the same time perfectly balanced: the sax indulges in moans and sobs, and the piano accompanies with bursts of notes ever more tense and restless. "Belonging" leaves us in an ambiguous state, a mixture of anxiety and bliss, but in the meantime, an urgent necessity has emerged within this contrast of feelings, which is to listen to it again as soon as possible.