Nils Petter Molvær – Be Quiet (Edition Records)

Album review

Nils Petter Molvær has been active on the scene since the 1980s, and with the albums Khmer and Solid Ether he brought a genuine shift in the jazz landscape, earning what can rightfully be called legendary status. More than 25 years have passed since then, during which this musician has tirelessly released new albums and remained active on concert stages around the world, consistently maintaining the highest standards in his work.

Before turning to his new album Be Quiet, recently released on Edition Records, it is worth reflecting on the career trajectory of musicians who reach their “peak” relatively early. By this I do not necessarily mean the quality of their music, but rather the status they enjoy within the “jazz community” – among jazz listeners, critics, festival programmers, and others.

If you are a more experienced listener of instrumental music who has followed the rhythm of the jazz industry for at least two decades, you will notice that the market simply cannot absorb the number of new musicians who emerge and establish themselves year after year. This is perfectly logical and understandable – listeners, along with everyone else interested in jazz, have certain physical and psychological limits beyond which it is impossible to go.

New and fresh talents are always welcome, and the community embraces them with joy and enthusiasm. They begin appearing in best-of-the-year lists and rankings of leading musicians. Festivals compete to book them and refresh their lineups. At the same time, the vast majority of jazz festivals (at least the more ambitious ones) need some kind of “jazz legend” in their program. These are the artists who sell tickets and attract audiences that do not listen to jazz every day, but become engaged when a festival arrives in their city, eager to experience a major cultural event.

Many jazz musicians in their later years eventually introduce significantly younger players into their bands, automatically gaining renewed relevance, revitalizing their artistic voice, and entering their mature phase with fresh enthusiasm.

Market trends change as well: some years avant-garde musicians are on the rise, other years it is crossovers with hip-hop and electronics; sometimes there is a return to the political and socially engaged values of jazz, while at other times the carefree fusion revival takes center stage.

So we have young talents, and we have veterans whose status is unquestioned. Which brings us to the fact that the “collateral damage” of an oversaturated market is often made up of musicians somewhere in between – no longer young and “hyped,” yet not old enough to have reached those “legendary years,” when they stand above trends and seasonal fashions. I am not saying this is necessarily the case, nor that we can generalize with complete certainty, but I believe we can agree that the argument makes sense.

Back to Nils Petter Molvær. The Norwegian trumpeter turns 66 this September. Last season was marked by a release (and concerts) celebrating his landmark album Khmer, which also served as a reminder of the calibre of musician we are dealing with. On the global music scene, the trend of performing classic albums live has long since taken hold, and it is both a commendable and attractive practice. Yet jazz life is always defined by what an artist does next.

In that respect, Be Quiet is a complete success for Nils Petter Molvær – at least from the perspective of this listener and writer. For years his dominant musical language has been associated with small combo ensembles, often more energetic and forward-moving than introspective in the way we usually associate with ambient Scandinavian jazz. Now, not only do we hear Molvær in a series of different duo formations (and one trio), but the individual pieces themselves are remarkably restrained – minimalist not in the conventional sense of repetition, but rather through the small number of notes played and the interplay between those notes, intervals of silence, and atmospheric soundscapes.

At this point the reader might assume this is an ECM-type album. That would only be true to a certain extent, because ECM does not hold a monopoly on the use of silence in jazz, nor is every form of restraint automatically defined in such (sub)genre terms. On the other hand, Molvær himself was one of the musicians largely responsible for shaping precisely this kind of aesthetic over the past 30 to 40 years. Then there is the production, which sounds rich and immersive even within such a sparse instrumental setting – especially in those tracks where the Norwegian trumpeter leans heavily on electronics.

That, as mentioned, is his trademark. What is fascinating, however, is the way Molvær manages to create a profound sense of space and a sound that surrounds and embraces us even in the more acoustic passages. Take the opening track “Bangkok,” where Chang Jing plays the guzheng (traditional Chinese zither); “Copenhagen,” featuring Marilyn Mazur, which opens with the sound of a triangle (or a similar percussion instrument); or the closing “München,” with the outstanding Anja Lechner on cello.

We have already noticed that each composition bears the name of the city where it was recorded. In this way the album achieves a conceptual dimension not merely through the geographical location of the studios, but also because every track features a musician associated with that particular place. At the same time, although one might assume that such a large number of guest musicians could easily slip into an “all-star approach,” the album remains unexpectedly coherent and focused in its core arranging structure, while still unmistakably shaped by Molvær’s sensibility – and ultimately by the trumpet sound we have loved and remembered for decades.

This more “electronic” side of the album is filled with highlights. “Rome,” with synthesizers reminiscent of some of John Surman’s early albums; “London-Hackney,” where Jan Bang (keyboards / sampling) and Imogen Heap (voice and electronics) join him, allowing Molvær’s powerful solos to intertwine with ethereal vocals and dense electronic soundscapes; or “Berlin-orbit 4,” where his duo partner is Alva Noto, perhaps the piece that sounds most like “classic Molvær” at his very best.

Perhaps this is simply my own wishful thinking, but this is exactly the kind of album that feels perfect for the current stage of Molvær’s career, as well as for the landscape of contemporary jazz today.

The jazz world no longer longs for unexpected and radical innovations, having accepted that the grand narrative of jazz history has already reached its conclusion (pardon my Fukuyama). But it does long for legends. For those musicians who possess an essential sound; whose tone can be recognized in a second; who can captivate us without a grandiose musical environment surrounding them.

Some may call it “authenticity.” We might just as well call it artistic or instrumental “charisma.” Whichever terminology you prefer, I believe Nils Petter Molvær is precisely that kind of musician. Four decades of an outstanding career are already behind him, yet it is entirely possible that the very best is still to come.

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