Odyssey

About

Once you hear the plangent cry that swoons us into “Darkness Fall,” you know you’re in Rypdal territory... Although the album has been reissued on CD, the 24-minute Rolling Stone sadly did not survive the digital makeover. A gorgeou, organ-infused underwater symphony, it flows like a Robin Guthrie excursion with its tinny echoes and whammy bar ornaments before bringing on the album’s most rock-oriented development. -- (It's available only the Vinyl version.) It is a place of intense clarity and emotive immediacy. The solid bass vamp of “Midnite” (courtesy of Sveinung Hovensjø), which presses on for the next 17 minute, epitomizes the Rypdal of old with its progressive solitude. A carefully pedaled guitar and alluring soprano sax (played by Rypdal himself) careen through its nocturnal billows with a humble melodic ferocity as Torbjørn Sunde lights the sky with his muted trombone. The following “Adagio” is a classic in and of itself. Its Solina strings paint a dark but clearly discernible picture, into which Rypdal’s guitar spills its ether: a statement of autonomy in its coolest disguise. “Better Off Without You” walks in circle, only occasionally poking its head above the watery depths of its indecision. “Over Birkerot” transplants us into a punchier setting. The guitar is still firmly grounded here but rife with narrative fertility. Grumbling horn blasts (think Hans Zimmer’s soundtrack to Inception on a smaller scale) add deeper visceral impact. Midway through, Rypdal rocks out in a cathartic change of pace from the elegiac free-flows of his surroundings before moving on to “Fare Well.” In this languid suspension, we find Rypdal in a particularly elegiac mode, crossing paths with vibraphonic sustain. At last, we reach the end with “Ballade,” a guitar-heavy track that becomes more electronically enhanced as it moves along. Its blinding glare comes from the force of a distant hope. Rypdal has an incisive way of building anticipation, of dropping his solos at the most carefully thought-out point. His guitar is like a string of codas with no need for beginning. Like the photo that graces its cover, Odyssey captures the life of a nomadic musician in candid monochrome. Although the album has been reissued on CD, the 24-minute “Rolling Stone” sadly did not survive the digital makeover. A gorgeou, organ-infused underwater symphony, it flows like a Robin Guthrie excursion with its tinny echoes and whammy bar ornaments before bringing on the album’s most rock-oriented development. It also charts Rypdal in a pivotal moment of self-discovery where his tone began to coalesce into the sound for which he has come to be known. Worth the price of any vinyl copy you can find. Producer Manfred Eicher’s ECM label has been a mixed bag over the year. Much of the output has been criticized for being homogenized, self-indulgent & dull as well as being praised for genius production, adventurous artists making groundbreaking recording, with an inner fire underneath the slick recording. Love it or hate it, there is a definite sound environment that Eicher has created, it’s simply known as the “ECM sound”. The use of space in music, as loud as silence, free improv without a million note, composed chaos that whispers scream. When it works it is timeless & innovative, when it doesn’t, it can sound like elevator music that was thrown aside because it sounded too much like, well, elevator music. Odyssey is guitarist Terje Rypdal’s fourth record for ECM & it work. A double album of low-fi fusion intertwined with progressive rock string interlude, distorted organ, hissy snare fill, groovy bass lines , ethereal horn, & of course, Rypdal’s guitar playing, which sounds like a cross between Jimi Hendrix & an avant garde cello player. The melodies are dark, cold & funky as hell. Rypdal was definitely channeling Miles Davis’ “Bitches Brew” on this record but only softer, all the groove & dissonance, but less crowded, like someone whispering a hurricane in your ear. The record opens with “Darkness Falls”. Rypdal’s guitar screeching like an injured space bird along side organ stabs & chattering drums with the bass searching for a cohesive rhythm: a gentle panic within the group forms but slowly subsides as the sound fades & flows right into the second track, “Midnite”. Warm, pulsating bass & drums lock into each other & they begin to groove with Rypdal’s wah pedal over the top of moaning trombones & snaky organ lines in the background, holding it all together; quietly. Odyssey has it’s heavier moments as well- “Rolling Stone” a twenty-five minute rock-funk gem that sounds as if Sly Stone & crew ran into the boys from Black Sabbath & said, “Let’s jam”. “Over Birkerot” would be perfectly comfortable on a mid- seventies King Crimson record. It does bog down a bit with a couple of almost contemporary classical string/synthesizer drone marathons that can get a little sleepy, but there’s just enough smolder in there to keep the listener curiou. The tracks heard on Odyssey still sound relevant. Manfred Eicher’s production stamp make these tunes sound as if they could be on any modern down-tempo electronic record from today. Track Listing (Vinyl version) A1 Darkness Falls 3:27 A2 Midnite 16:37 B1 Adagio 13:09 B2 Better Off Without You 7:31 C1 Over Birkerot 4:42 C2 Fare Well 11:22 C3 Ballade 5:55 D1 Rolling Stone 23:54 Lineup Terje Rypdal- Guitar, Synthesizer , Saxophone Sveinung Hovensjø – Bass Svein Christiansen – Drums Brynjulf Blix – Organ Torbjørn Sunde – Trombone Producer – Manfred Eicher Jan Erik Kongshaug – Engineer .

via Last.fm

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