The HOT Box , August 2025

Lewis’ “molecular systematic music” Quartet can threaten to smother creativity with its involved
thematics but on their latest record they sink into a slower register, playing through beautiful
ballads and downtempo, fractal melodies with a signature deftness of touch. A complex album
that is a joy to encounter.

The HOT Box , August 2025

Lewis’ strongest statement on wax yet. He and his quartet power the music with passion, pur
pose and propulsion.

The HOT Box , August 2025

Lewis delivers his abstractions with an erudite restraint and formality. Many early and mid-Col
trane modalities, some infused with restless passion but more with a relaxed, evenhanded
caution, allowing the listener to project any transcendence.

Moody, contemplative and gorgeously expressive, Abstraction Is Deliverance is the work of a quartet that deserves its place in the front rank of contemporary creative music. With the exception of the title piece — the album’s most aggressive performance, featuring high-level interplay and an extremely powerful saxophone component — this is a dark hued work that’s both eloquent and emotive. Displaying roots that extend from modalism effortless to melodicism that echoes the impressionism of Debussy and Ravel, the band’s fifth outing stakes its place among the best recordings of this decade. The opening “Ware” illuminates the lineage from Newk and Trane to the titular David S. Ware with a fervid rhythmic underpinning and Lewis’ meditative lead, while “Remember Rosalind” layers a winsome melody over Chad Taylor’s slowly churning accompaniment. The oft-recorded “Left Alone” drifts on Taylor’s reiterative foundation and Brad Jones’ resonant toms, providing fertile ground for Lewis’ rich exposition of the Billie Holiday/Mal Waldron melody. Above all, this is a band that appreciates texture. “Multicellular Beings” and “Per 7” are both prime examples of how these four can shift their traditional roles to build performances that seem so purpose-built that listeners may mistake them for through-composed work. Over the course of its five recordings, Lewis’ quartet has grown into the one of the most eloquent improvising groups in recent history. They appear to be transforming their 41-year-old Swiss boutique label the way John Coltrane did for Impulse! in the ’60s.

Her artistry 'stems from having grown up in two counties that defeated the West: Ethiopia and Vietnam'
CHRIS SEARLE speaks to Ethiopian vocalist SOFIA JERNBERG

PERHAPS it was her childhood experiences that have made the Ethiopian singer Sofia Jernberg such a powerful and audacious musical internationalist. Her new album, Musho, allied with the brilliant and empathetic Oxford-born pianist Alexander Hawkins, has songs from Ethiopia, Armenia, medieval Sweden and Shakespearian England. And she states with pride that her artistry “stems from having grown up in two counties that defeated the West: Ethiopia and Vietnam.”

“I was born in Addis Ababa in 1983 and grew up with a single mother who adopted me while she was working as a diplomat in the Swedish embassy. She worked in Ethiopia and Vietnam before we arrived in Sweden when I was 10, when she started work at the Swedish International Development Agency. We had an electric piano and record player at home and I listened to music from all over the world. The LP player became my best friend. I was constantly singing, but never thought it could be a profession until I was in my mid-teens.”

“I speak four European languages well, but understand many more. My mother spoke Amharic and loved Ethiopia, so it has always been a part of my life, but its culture for me was always connected to a deep sorrow and involuntary separation. Ethiopia went through a lot in the ’80s and ’90s, and we engaged closely with that.

“I didn't know what jazz was until my teenage years. Before that my interest was Western classical music. But I was always curious about all kinds of music, and as I looked at jazz shelves in libraries and record stores that curiosity deepened. I struggled to understand it, did all the listening to myself and never talked to anyone about it. I went to jazz concerts and avant-garde performances by myself, never talking to anyone about it. I never studied music at a higher level, but learned what I needed — how to read and write music and learned by doing, listening to and playing records of musicians I admired.

“I didn't become a full professional singer until I was 30, but had stood on a stage and sung regularly since I was 10, since I went to choir school.”

She developed a love of many art forms, including dance and visual performance. “I chose music because it’s a language in itself. It brings people together and unites us in a strange way. I sing with people who often have opposite views to myself, who are twice my age and who I would never meet otherwise. All the ugly social structures go away when we make music. I’m a musician rather than a singer, and I sing without words for a whole concert to achieve that. Words can sometimes get in the way, and singing without them means that everyone, regardless of language, can access what I sing.”

What about her partnership with the protean Hawkins?

“We met when the musical director of Bimhuis, the Netherlands jazz club, put us together. I love Alex’s ambition, dedication and creativity in his life of music and piano, constantly pushing himself, always evolving and surprising me with the most magical moments. His musical knowledge is very rich and we share a love for all kinds of music, which is why I so often learn something new or different, because of something he said.”

Why is the album called Musho?

“It means ‘sad song’ in Amharic, and it was clear from the start that we would play melancholic music. My favourite track on the album is Willow, Willow, Desdemona’s lament from Othello. I was so pleased that Alex wanted to play something English, for the English music tradition connects us and has given me so much.”

Musho exemplifies the gloriously syncretic power of jazz, and Hawkins’s always surprising pianism unites with Jernberg’s voice in a brotherly musical fellowship to her surging, saddening and always deeply moving voice. When she sings the traditional Ethiopian song, Adwa, remembering the victory of Ethiopian forces over the invading Italian army in 1896, there is both a defiance and soulfulnness in her voice that eclipses all genres.

In that sense her voice embodies the cosmopolitan spirit of Robeson, Makeba, Peggy Seeger, Woody Guthrie and Nina Simone, and has a global reach which sings for all humanity.

Musho is released by Intakt records

https://morningstaronline.co.uk/article/her-artistry-stems-having-grown-two-counties-defeated-west-ethiopia-and-vietnam

Her artistry 'stems from having grown up in two counties that defeated the West: Ethiopia and Vietnam'
CHRIS SEARLE speaks to Ethiopian vocalist SOFIA JERNBERG

PERHAPS it was her childhood experiences that have made the Ethiopian singer Sofia Jernberg such a powerful and audacious musical internationalist. Her new album, Musho, allied with the brilliant and empathetic Oxford-born pianist Alexander Hawkins, has songs from Ethiopia, Armenia, medieval Sweden and Shakespearian England. And she states with pride that her artistry “stems from having grown up in two counties that defeated the West: Ethiopia and Vietnam.”

“I was born in Addis Ababa in 1983 and grew up with a single mother who adopted me while she was working as a diplomat in the Swedish embassy. She worked in Ethiopia and Vietnam before we arrived in Sweden when I was 10, when she started work at the Swedish International Development Agency. We had an electric piano and record player at home and I listened to music from all over the world. The LP player became my best friend. I was constantly singing, but never thought it could be a profession until I was in my mid-teens.”

“I speak four European languages well, but understand many more. My mother spoke Amharic and loved Ethiopia, so it has always been a part of my life, but its culture for me was always connected to a deep sorrow and involuntary separation. Ethiopia went through a lot in the ’80s and ’90s, and we engaged closely with that.

“I didn't know what jazz was until my teenage years. Before that my interest was Western classical music. But I was always curious about all kinds of music, and as I looked at jazz shelves in libraries and record stores that curiosity deepened. I struggled to understand it, did all the listening to myself and never talked to anyone about it. I went to jazz concerts and avant-garde performances by myself, never talking to anyone about it. I never studied music at a higher level, but learned what I needed — how to read and write music and learned by doing, listening to and playing records of musicians I admired.

“I didn't become a full professional singer until I was 30, but had stood on a stage and sung regularly since I was 10, since I went to choir school.”

She developed a love of many art forms, including dance and visual performance. “I chose music because it’s a language in itself. It brings people together and unites us in a strange way. I sing with people who often have opposite views to myself, who are twice my age and who I would never meet otherwise. All the ugly social structures go away when we make music. I’m a musician rather than a singer, and I sing without words for a whole concert to achieve that. Words can sometimes get in the way, and singing without them means that everyone, regardless of language, can access what I sing.”

What about her partnership with the protean Hawkins?

“We met when the musical director of Bimhuis, the Netherlands jazz club, put us together. I love Alex’s ambition, dedication and creativity in his life of music and piano, constantly pushing himself, always evolving and surprising me with the most magical moments. His musical knowledge is very rich and we share a love for all kinds of music, which is why I so often learn something new or different, because of something he said.”

Why is the album called Musho?

“It means ‘sad song’ in Amharic, and it was clear from the start that we would play melancholic music. My favourite track on the album is Willow, Willow, Desdemona’s lament from Othello. I was so pleased that Alex wanted to play something English, for the English music tradition connects us and has given me so much.”

Musho exemplifies the gloriously syncretic power of jazz, and Hawkins’s always surprising pianism unites with Jernberg’s voice in a brotherly musical fellowship to her surging, saddening and always deeply moving voice. When she sings the traditional Ethiopian song, Adwa, remembering the victory of Ethiopian forces over the invading Italian army in 1896, there is both a defiance and soulfulnness in her voice that eclipses all genres.

In that sense her voice embodies the cosmopolitan spirit of Robeson, Makeba, Peggy Seeger, Woody Guthrie and Nina Simone, and has a global reach which sings for all humanity.

Musho is released by Intakt records

https://morningstaronline.co.uk/article/her-artistry-stems-having-grown-two-counties-defeated-west-ethiopia-and-vietnam

Quando Ware, prima traccia del nuovo lavoro di James Brandon Lewis, dedicata al compositore David S. Ware, comincia a “girare”, come spesso accade per i suoi dischi, sembra che il nuovo pezzo sia la prosecuzione di un pezzo ininterrotto che arriva dalle lontananze dei primi lavori del grande saxofonista statunitense. Invece Abstraction Is Deliverance, così si intitola il nuovo album uscito per l’etichetta Intakt Records, è il quinto lavoro dell’ormai consolidato James Brandon Lewis Quartet con Aruán Ortiz, al piano, Brad Jones al contrabbasso e Chad Taylor alla batteria. Accade lo stesso con Per 7, dove il sax di Brandon Lewis imperioso e possente porta a spasso il quartetto in atmosfere raffinate, calde e dai toni meditativi di un groove pacificato col mondo.

E la stessa cosa si può dire di Even the Sparrow, il nastro scorre e le liriche melodie, di quelle che lo stesso Brandon Lewis definisce ballate, si susseguono in infinite variazioni, ma con una continuità di fondo che, come già detto, viene da lontano. Del resto basta andare a riascoltare Molecular, Code of Being, MSM Molecular Systematic Music Live e Transfiguration, ed è facile ritrovare quel suono amico e confidenziale che fa di Brandon Lewis e del suo quartetto una delle formazioni più raffinate del jazz contemporaneo (e certamente una di quelle che incontrano il mio favore). Non si pensi però che questa continuità, si possa confondere con il concetto di monotonia (nel senso letterale del termine, beninteso). No, i toni non sono sempre uguali e nemmeno i ritmi che, per esempio, in Abstraction is Deliverance, subiscono una impetuosa impennata, mentre il seguente Multicellular Beings è un brano pacato e meditativo, dove l’avvolgente contrabbasso di Brandon Lewis dialoga in maniera serrata col piano di Aruán Ortiz, ma soprattutto con il rullante titillato dalle spazzole di Chad Taylor. Più libero (free?) e aleatorio è certamente Mr Crick e sulla stessa linea anche Left Alone. Ma questo splendido lavoro del quartetto di James Brandon Lewis, paradossalmente, non è fatto solo di musica, ad accompagnare il cd (o la sua versione digitale) c’è anche un testo di Teju Cole, scrittore afro americano che qualche anno fa ebbe una certa celebrità in Italia grazie a Città aperta, edito da Einaudi. La scrittura di Cole, che è anche fotografo e storico dell’arte, è visionaria e deve indubbiamente molto ad alcuni testi della Beat Generation, ma ha comunque una sua propria originalità e mi piace immaginare che Polaris, ultimo brano del disco, possa essere la più adatta colonna sonora per lo strampalato viaggio dei due protagonisti del racconto di Teju Cole, in compagnia di un CD che erutta suoni primordiali, muovendosi tra canyon urbani, montagne, boschi, deserti e spazi immaginari o siderali.

Disco bello e originale, con sorpresa letteraria raffinata che sembra volerci indicare quella direzione pluridisciplinare che, non solo nel jazz, sembra profilarsi sempre più chiaramente, dopo tanti sconfinamenti di stili e ibridazioni di varia natura.

https://offtopicmagazine.net/2025/07/02/james-brandon-lewis-quartet-abstraction-is-deliverance/

Ein Saxophon-Koloss

Mit gleich mehreren neuen Veröffentlichungen beweist James Brandon Lewis, warum er bereits jetzt zu den ganz Großen des Jazz gezählt werden darf.

Ornette Coleman entwickelte ein schier unverständliches musiktheoretisches System mit Namen „Harmolodics", das eine Art Befreiung von den akkordischen Einschränkungen des Jazz beschreiben und weit über das modale Spiel eines Miles Davis hinausgehen sollte. Henry Threadgill entwarf eine „intervallic language", eine serielle Sprache, in der sich von Takt zu Takt Intervallreihen verändern und verschieben. Anthony Braxton veröffentlichte ein dreibändiges musik-philosophisches Werk mit dem Titel „Tri-Axium Writings"; seine Kompositionen sind oft in grafischen Modellen notiert, die eher mathematischen Gleichungen und Diagrammen ähneln. Es scheint bei den avantgardistischen Vertretern des Jazz insbesondere bei Saxophonisten einen Hang zum theoretischen Überbau zu geben. Beim vermutlich versiertesten und interessantesten Saxophonisten und Komponisten seiner Generation, James Brandon Lewis, darf das ebenfalls konzediert werden: „Molecular Systematic Music" nennt er sein Modell. Die dahinterstehende Idee sei es, so erklärte er mal, wissenschaftliche Theorien als Methode zur Konstruktion von Musik zu verwenden. Improvisationen werden da in komplexe Systeme wie eine Doppelhelix übersetzt (und umgekehrt), es geht um Intervalle als Informationsstränge und um die vier grundlegenden harmonischen Umgebungen, die Adenin, Guanin, Cytosin und Thymin entsprächen, den Basen eines DNA-Moleküls.

Das Tolle an diesen Versuchen, dem genialischen Moment des Spiels eine wissenschaftliche Beschreibungsebene unterzujubeln: Sie mögen den kreativen Prozess erklären oder sogar vorantreiben, beim Hören von Lewis' Alben verwandelt sich der akademische Ballast aber sofort in schwerelose Schönheit, die mehr als an Coleman, Threadgill oder Braxton an die spirituelle Energie John Coltranes, Pharoah Sanders' oder Albert Aylers denken lässt und an die Power eines Sonny Rollins, von dem Lewis auch einen Sinn für affizierende Melodielinien geerbt zu haben scheint. Mit all diesen Namen tut sich nicht nur eine Ahnenreihe auf. Sondern mit ihnen ist auch ein Anspruch verbunden, den der 1983 in Buffalo, New York, geborene James Brandon Lewis mehr und mehr einlöst. Sein Ton, rau und kräftig, zuweilen von der rauchigen Wärme Coleman Hawkins' und des späten Bluesman Archie Shepp durchdrungen, sucht seinesgleichen. Und seine vielseitige Produktivität ebenfalls: Allein in den letzten Monaten sind vier Alben erschienen, die den Traditionshorizont und die Zeitgenossenschaft von Lewis aufzeigen können.

Mit seinem wunderbar eingespielten Quartett Aruán Ortiz am Piano, Brad Jones am Bass und Chad Taylor am Schlagzeug - hat er gerade beim Schweizer Avantgarde-Label Intakt ein raumöffnendes, soghaftes Album veröffentlicht: „Abstraction Is Deliverance" erscheint, im Vergleich zu Vorgängeraufnahmen, geradezu balladesk angelegt, das Hymnische von Lewis' Spiel ist absolut präsent, aber verhaltener und auf subtilere Weise expressiv. Das erste Stück „Ware" ist dem Free-Jazz-Saxophonisten David S. Ware aus dem Umfeld Cecil Taylors gewidmet, den man als Bindeglied zwischen Ayler und Lewis betrachten könnte.

James Brandon Lewis mag es, mit seinen Alben Geschichten zu erzählen, immer neue, in unterschiedlichen Klangfarben, Grooves, Tonalitäten. Früher in diesem Jahr ist die von Hip-Hop-Rhythmen und Funk bestimmte Platte „Apple Cores" herausgekommen, wieder mit dem langjährigen Wegbegleiter und umtriebigen Schlagzeuger Chad Taylor und mit Josh Werner an E-Bass und Gitarre. Es ist eine pulsierende Improvisation, eine wilde Jamsession, die sich zum einen auf Schriften des afroamerikanischen Poeten und Aktivisten Amiri Baraka bezieht und zum anderen im Dialog mit Don Cherrys Werk steht und dessen „musikalische Neugier kommentiert" (Lewis).

Diese musikalische Neugier muss man auch dem neuen Saxophone Colossus attestieren: Nicht lange her, da hat Lewis mit der aus der Hardcore-Szene heraus entstandenen Band The Messthetics bei Impulse! ein Album eingespielt. Die Gruppe besteht aus Joe Lally am Bass und Brendan Canty an den Drums, ehemaligen Mitgliedern der Punk-Band Fugazi, sowie dem Gitarristen Anthony Pirog. Deren energiegeladener Instrumental-Rock ist so direkt und roh, dass er so manches Fusion-Projekt der Vergangenheit wie laue Fahrstuhlmucke erscheinen lässt. Er möge eben Tenor-Sounds, die ein bisschen Fleisch haben, sagte Lewis mal.

Aber es geht noch mal ganz anders: Bei Manfred Eicher hat er vor Kurzem sein ECM-Debüt vorgelegt, im Quartett mit Giovanni Guidi (Piano), Thomas Morgan (Bass) und João Lobo (Schlagzeug). Auf „A New Day" ist eine kammermusikalische Zurückgenommenheit zu entdecken, eine ausdifferenzierte Form von Spiritualität, die wenig mit der Intensität eines Albert Ayler zu tun hat, mehr mit der nordischnüchternen Eso-terik klassischer ECM-Aufnahmen.

Apropos Ayler – mit dem teilt Lewis d...

Ein Saxophon-Koloss

Mit gleich mehreren neuen Veröffentlichungen beweist James Brandon Lewis, warum er bereits jetzt zu den ganz Großen des Jazz gezählt werden darf.

Ornette Coleman entwickelte ein schier unverständliches musiktheoretisches System mit Namen „Harmolodics", das eine Art Befreiung von den akkordischen Einschränkungen des Jazz beschreiben und weit über das modale Spiel eines Miles Davis hinausgehen sollte. Henry Threadgill entwarf eine „intervallic language", eine serielle Sprache, in der sich von Takt zu Takt Intervallreihen verändern und verschieben. Anthony Braxton veröffentlichte ein dreibändiges musik-philosophisches Werk mit dem Titel „Tri-Axium Writings"; seine Kompositionen sind oft in grafischen Modellen notiert, die eher mathematischen Gleichungen und Diagrammen ähneln. Es scheint bei den avantgardistischen Vertretern des Jazz insbesondere bei Saxophonisten einen Hang zum theoretischen Überbau zu geben. Beim vermutlich versiertesten und interessantesten Saxophonisten und Komponisten seiner Generation, James Brandon Lewis, darf das ebenfalls konzediert werden: „Molecular Systematic Music" nennt er sein Modell. Die dahinterstehende Idee sei es, so erklärte er mal, wissenschaftliche Theorien als Methode zur Konstruktion von Musik zu verwenden. Improvisationen werden da in komplexe Systeme wie eine Doppelhelix übersetzt (und umgekehrt), es geht um Intervalle als Informationsstränge und um die vier grundlegenden harmonischen Umgebungen, die Adenin, Guanin, Cytosin und Thymin entsprächen, den Basen eines DNA-Moleküls.

Das Tolle an diesen Versuchen, dem genialischen Moment des Spiels eine wissenschaftliche Beschreibungsebene unterzujubeln: Sie mögen den kreativen Prozess erklären oder sogar vorantreiben, beim Hören von Lewis' Alben verwandelt sich der akademische Ballast aber sofort in schwerelose Schönheit, die mehr als an Coleman, Threadgill oder Braxton an die spirituelle Energie John Coltranes, Pharoah Sanders' oder Albert Aylers denken lässt und an die Power eines Sonny Rollins, von dem Lewis auch einen Sinn für affizierende Melodielinien geerbt zu haben scheint. Mit all diesen Namen tut sich nicht nur eine Ahnenreihe auf. Sondern mit ihnen ist auch ein Anspruch verbunden, den der 1983 in Buffalo, New York, geborene James Brandon Lewis mehr und mehr einlöst. Sein Ton, rau und kräftig, zuweilen von der rauchigen Wärme Coleman Hawkins' und des späten Bluesman Archie Shepp durchdrungen, sucht seinesgleichen. Und seine vielseitige Produktivität ebenfalls: Allein in den letzten Monaten sind vier Alben erschienen, die den Traditionshorizont und die Zeitgenossenschaft von Lewis aufzeigen können.

Mit seinem wunderbar eingespielten Quartett Aruán Ortiz am Piano, Brad Jones am Bass und Chad Taylor am Schlagzeug - hat er gerade beim Schweizer Avantgarde-Label Intakt ein raumöffnendes, soghaftes Album veröffentlicht: „Abstraction Is Deliverance" erscheint, im Vergleich zu Vorgängeraufnahmen, geradezu balladesk angelegt, das Hymnische von Lewis' Spiel ist absolut präsent, aber verhaltener und auf subtilere Weise expressiv. Das erste Stück „Ware" ist dem Free-Jazz-Saxophonisten David S. Ware aus dem Umfeld Cecil Taylors gewidmet, den man als Bindeglied zwischen Ayler und Lewis betrachten könnte.

James Brandon Lewis mag es, mit seinen Alben Geschichten zu erzählen, immer neue, in unterschiedlichen Klangfarben, Grooves, Tonalitäten. Früher in diesem Jahr ist die von Hip-Hop-Rhythmen und Funk bestimmte Platte „Apple Cores" herausgekommen, wieder mit dem langjährigen Wegbegleiter und umtriebigen Schlagzeuger Chad Taylor und mit Josh Werner an E-Bass und Gitarre. Es ist eine pulsierende Improvisation, eine wilde Jamsession, die sich zum einen auf Schriften des afroamerikanischen Poeten und Aktivisten Amiri Baraka bezieht und zum anderen im Dialog mit Don Cherrys Werk steht und dessen „musikalische Neugier kommentiert" (Lewis).

Diese musikalische Neugier muss man auch dem neuen Saxophone Colossus attestieren: Nicht lange her, da hat Lewis mit der aus der Hardcore-Szene heraus entstandenen Band The Messthetics bei Impulse! ein Album eingespielt. Die Gruppe besteht aus Joe Lally am Bass und Brendan Canty an den Drums, ehemaligen Mitgliedern der Punk-Band Fugazi, sowie dem Gitarristen Anthony Pirog. Deren energiegeladener Instrumental-Rock ist so direkt und roh, dass er so manches Fusion-Projekt der Vergangenheit wie laue Fahrstuhlmucke erscheinen lässt. Er möge eben Tenor-Sounds, die ein bisschen Fleisch haben, sagte Lewis mal.

Aber es geht noch mal ganz anders: Bei Manfred Eicher hat er vor Kurzem sein ECM-Debüt vorgelegt, im Quartett mit Giovanni Guidi (Piano), Thomas Morgan (Bass) und João Lobo (Schlagzeug). Auf „A New Day" ist eine kammermusikalische Zurückgenommenheit zu entdecken, eine ausdifferenzierte Form von Spiritualität, die wenig mit der Intensität eines Albert Ayler zu tun hat, mehr mit der nordischnüchternen Eso-terik klassischer ECM-Aufnahmen.

Apropos Ayler – mit dem teilt Lewis d...

Tenor saxophonist James Brandon Lewis has established himself as the most versatile tenorist on the scene today in a relatively short time. He’s played in classical settings, gospel settings, in a punk trio, with a rock band, and as a sideman for Ches Smith and others. But his most consistent project has been his working quartet of pianist Aruan Ortiz, bassist Brad Jones, and drummer Chad Taylor. Abstraction Is Deliverance (Intakt, 2025), the ensemble’s fifth album, features eight originals and a cover of Mal Waldron’s “Left Alone.”

Tenor saxophonists have a tradition of delivering ballad albums. We could point to Coleman Hawkins, Ben Webster, Stan Getz, and, of course – the gold standard – John Coltrane’s Ballads (Impulse!, 1963). More recent contributions have come from Michael Brecker, Wayne Escoffery, Jimmy Greene, and many others. Yet, most ballad albums usually consist of familiar standards. While Abstraction Is Deliverance will likely always be considered Lewis’ ballad album, that distinction incorrectly suggests a lack of his trademark ferocity. There is plenty of it here. His pieces, for the most part, are reflective but hardly take us into a romantic or melancholic mood. If you’re centering on original material, Escoffery’s Alone (Smoke Sessions, 2024) or Greene’s Beautiful Life (Mack Avenue, 2014) are better fits. Instead, Lewis brings not merely the reflective, but also the aggressive, the modernist, and the spiritual. Arguably, it’s too convenient and somewhat unfair to label this record as simply a “ballads” album.

Opener “Ware,” is a modal tribute to the underrecognized saxophonist David S. Ware. Coltrane-like lines soar over bowed bass, cymbal flourishes, and simpatico comping piano. Jones develops a sturdy bassline that takes the tempo up slightly with Ortiz’s single-note runs and Lewis powerfully reaching re-entry, leading to a balance of fierce and tender improvisations. “Per 7” is mostly blues in call-and-response mode with Ortiz. The pace is deliberate, and the effect is deeply soulful. “Even the Sparrow” has an Eastern flavor reminiscent of Alice Coltrane, mused with a deep, prayer-like gospel feel. Taylor, who impresses on every turn, uses his mallets and hi-hat masterfully. Ortiz is subtle in his accompaniment.

“Remember Rosalind” takes spirituality to a higher level, almost Charles-Lloyd-like in its opening. The meter is odd, Ortiz’s piano glistens, and cymbals crash. Lewis weaves his lines hypnotically as the intensity builds, only to reach calmer waters as they go out. The title track has faint classical strains in the opening. But soon Lewis blows with his trademark ferocity and unbounded energy; the Lewis we know, not a balladeer by any stretch. Taylor’s drumming again is noteworthy and commanding. “Multicellular Beings” returns to spiritual, prayer-like, akin to “Even the Sparrow.” Listen, though, to Taylor’s skittering snares belying the softer tones of Lewis and Ortiz. “Mr Crick” changes both the tempo and the dynamic. Jones authors a walking bassline, and the tune resounds with the angularity of Ornette, replete with fiery improvisations.

The lone cover, “Left Alone,” was written by Mal Waldron and Billie Holiday in the late ‘50s. Lewis and the quartet infuse the piece with spirituality behind Jones’ arco bass, Taylor’s toms, and Ortiz’s cascading lines. Lewis stays somewhat restrained, occasionally surfacing with potent clusters. The result is sublimely gorgeous. Closer “Polaris” begins with a deliberate single-note intro from Ortiz that evolves into a chamber music-styled melody that reaches heated intensity following Ortiz’s declarative solo, prodded on by Jones and Taylor in the engine room. Yet, somehow, Lewis conjures softer, reflective tones as they exit.

Call it what you want, but there’s far more than simply ballads here. Abstraction Is Deliverance shows the tight chemistry this quartet has built and is unequivocally one of James Brandon Lewis’ finest efforts.

https://postgenre.org/review-abstraction-jbl/

Tenor saxophonist James Brandon Lewis has established himself as the most versatile tenorist on the scene today in a relatively short time. He’s played in classical settings, gospel settings, in a punk trio, with a rock band, and as a sideman for Ches Smith and others. But his most consistent project has been his working quartet of pianist Aruan Ortiz, bassist Brad Jones, and drummer Chad Taylor. Abstraction Is Deliverance (Intakt, 2025), the ensemble’s fifth album, features eight originals and a cover of Mal Waldron’s “Left Alone.”

Tenor saxophonists have a tradition of delivering ballad albums. We could point to Coleman Hawkins, Ben Webster, Stan Getz, and, of course – the gold standard – John Coltrane’s Ballads (Impulse!, 1963). More recent contributions have come from Michael Brecker, Wayne Escoffery, Jimmy Greene, and many others. Yet, most ballad albums usually consist of familiar standards. While Abstraction Is Deliverance will likely always be considered Lewis’ ballad album, that distinction incorrectly suggests a lack of his trademark ferocity. There is plenty of it here. His pieces, for the most part, are reflective but hardly take us into a romantic or melancholic mood. If you’re centering on original material, Escoffery’s Alone (Smoke Sessions, 2024) or Greene’s Beautiful Life (Mack Avenue, 2014) are better fits. Instead, Lewis brings not merely the reflective, but also the aggressive, the modernist, and the spiritual. Arguably, it’s too convenient and somewhat unfair to label this record as simply a “ballads” album.

Opener “Ware,” is a modal tribute to the underrecognized saxophonist David S. Ware. Coltrane-like lines soar over bowed bass, cymbal flourishes, and simpatico comping piano. Jones develops a sturdy bassline that takes the tempo up slightly with Ortiz’s single-note runs and Lewis powerfully reaching re-entry, leading to a balance of fierce and tender improvisations. “Per 7” is mostly blues in call-and-response mode with Ortiz. The pace is deliberate, and the effect is deeply soulful. “Even the Sparrow” has an Eastern flavor reminiscent of Alice Coltrane, mused with a deep, prayer-like gospel feel. Taylor, who impresses on every turn, uses his mallets and hi-hat masterfully. Ortiz is subtle in his accompaniment.

“Remember Rosalind” takes spirituality to a higher level, almost Charles-Lloyd-like in its opening. The meter is odd, Ortiz’s piano glistens, and cymbals crash. Lewis weaves his lines hypnotically as the intensity builds, only to reach calmer waters as they go out. The title track has faint classical strains in the opening. But soon Lewis blows with his trademark ferocity and unbounded energy; the Lewis we know, not a balladeer by any stretch. Taylor’s drumming again is noteworthy and commanding. “Multicellular Beings” returns to spiritual, prayer-like, akin to “Even the Sparrow.” Listen, though, to Taylor’s skittering snares belying the softer tones of Lewis and Ortiz. “Mr Crick” changes both the tempo and the dynamic. Jones authors a walking bassline, and the tune resounds with the angularity of Ornette, replete with fiery improvisations.

The lone cover, “Left Alone,” was written by Mal Waldron and Billie Holiday in the late ‘50s. Lewis and the quartet infuse the piece with spirituality behind Jones’ arco bass, Taylor’s toms, and Ortiz’s cascading lines. Lewis stays somewhat restrained, occasionally surfacing with potent clusters. The result is sublimely gorgeous. Closer “Polaris” begins with a deliberate single-note intro from Ortiz that evolves into a chamber music-styled melody that reaches heated intensity following Ortiz’s declarative solo, prodded on by Jones and Taylor in the engine room. Yet, somehow, Lewis conjures softer, reflective tones as they exit.

Call it what you want, but there’s far more than simply ballads here. Abstraction Is Deliverance shows the tight chemistry this quartet has built and is unequivocally one of James Brandon Lewis’ finest efforts.

https://postgenre.org/review-abstraction-jbl/

Auf ihrem sechsten Album präsentiert sich die Formation Pilgrim des Zürcher Tenorsaxophonisten Christoph Irniger in der gewohnten Besetzung mit Stefan Aeby am Klavier, Dave Gisler an der elektrischen Gitarre, Raffaele Bossard am Bass und Michael Stulz am Schlagzeug. Ungewohnt ist die Versuchsanlage: Der 64-minütige Live-Mitschnitt vom 29. November 2023 aus dem Klub Red Horn District in Bad Meinberg (NRW) gibt das Konzert ungefiltert wieder. So gut wie nichts wurde editiert, und da es keine fixe Setlist gab, erleben wir die Musiker auf verschlungenen Pfaden zwischen freier Improvisation, solistischen Eskapaden und dem Sich-Zusammenfinden in neuen Stücken oder solchen, die sie schon oft gespielt haben. Einige Tracks werden gründlich gestaltet und umgestaltet, andere nur angetippt. Die Band kann sich viel erlauben, weil sie in den fünfzehn Jahren ihres Bestehens zu einer Einheit in der Vielfalt zusammengewachsen ist. Gleichwohl kann bei diesem Konzept nicht alles gleichermaßen gelingen. Es gibt Wege und Irrwege, energetische Ballungen und innige Momente, aber auch Passagen, in denen Fäden fallengelassen werden und weniger passiert. Diese gehören freilich zum Ganzen: Nur wo es Spannungswechsel gibt, wird Spannung überhaupt wahrgenommen. Die Reise beginnt mit einer Hommage von Gisler an Jimi Hendrix, bevor in >>Calling the Spirits<<< buchstäblich vorgeführt wird, wie eine Gruppe zusammenfindet. Die Mehrzahl der bereits bekannten Stücke entstammt dem Album >>Ghost Cat<< von 2023, so auch die weitausgreifende Lesung von >> Seven Down Eight Up<<: Sie illustriert das Aikido-Prinzip, nach dem man immer einmal mehr aufstehen als hinfallen muss. Ein guter Rat, den man auch beim Anhören dieses teils irritierenden, teils faszinierenden Mitschnitts beherzigen sollte. Mit dem symbolhaften Titel >>Back in the Game<< aus der >>Italian Circus Story<<< von 2014 endet die Abenteuerfahrt.