Freysteinn: Thoughts
Protomaterial Records

Given how much the music he creates is literate, articulate, and probing, it's telling that the booklet portrait photo for Thoughts shows a couch-seated Freysteinn Gíslason with packed bookshelves behind him. There's nothing stuffy or pedantic about its music, however: as comfortably as it aligns itself to the cerebral approach associated with European jazz, it's not lacking for heat or combustion, and the double bassist's quartet shows itself capable of playing raw when the music calls for it. Echoes of contemporary American jazz also surface during the recording's eight tracks, such that it's possible to detect similarities between the tone and attack of early Bill Frisell in Hilmar Jensson's electric guitar playing and to also hear groups fronted by Tim Berne, John Zorn, and Frisell as precursors of sorts for Freysteinn's. As pivotal to the quartet's identity are tenor saxophonist Helgi R. Heiðarsson and drummer Óskar Kjartansson.

Thoughts positions Freysteinn as a vital part of the Icelandic jazz community, even if he's accomplished that through surreptitious stealth rather than ego-driven theatrics. While all of the compositions are credited to him, as a musician he leads quietly, preferring to treat himself as an equal contributor to the performances than someone dominating them. Further to that, Freysteinn's an economical and poised bassist who's always focused on making the right note choices. Kjartansson eschews straight time-keeping for a painterly approach that retains pulse but is also rich in texture and colour. For their parts, Heiðarsson, his tone by turns feathery and full-throated, and Jensson are as comfortable being scalding as gentle.

Alternating between moments of restful calm and gritty intensity and exemplifying a spacious approach, the material, recorded at Sundlaugin in Reykjavík, feels fully alive and the product of four wholly connected individuals. Guided by their sensibilities, the music registers as a mobile, intimate, and explorative force. In a given piece, a compositional structure is present as an audible spine, but it's never so constricting that it prevents the four from embracing abstraction as a principle of performance.

The title track initiates the set, the bassist and saxophonist doubling up for the intricate theme before the others come crashing in. Quickly thereafter, the quartet's penchant for free playing asserts itself, the bassist and drummer backing a soloing Jensson with abstract gestures. An unaccompanied solo by Freysteinn follows that's characteristically probing. Things turn bluesy for “Pæling,” a smoldering Heiðarsson spearheading the charge, an eruptive Kjartansson slamming his kit, and the others marching in lockstep to the tune's slow, loose-limbed lilt; note also how smoothly the four effect a transition from wildness to the tight progressive rock of the coda.

Listeners of a certain age might be reminded of Zorn's Naked City when the blistering “Downhill” arrives. Unleashing a torrent of metallic noise is Jensson, while the others match him step for step with vicious contributions of their own. Demonstrating the ease with which it can switch gears, the quartet then enters a more contemplative zone with “Building Blocks,” the pace slowed down and the four sculpting atmosphere and flirting with dissonance. Moving even further inward is the subsequent “Ósköpuður,” a ballad taken at a stately pace and designed for maximum individual expression. With minimal cymbal accents animating the performance, Jensson, Heiðarsson, and Freysteinn deliver thoughtful solos to intensify the intimate mood. “Hefur Byrjum Alltaf Endi…” returns us to a heavier mode, the four generating a sludgy, grime-smeared statement that slows progressively to a scabrous crawl. The guitarist introduces the closing “Hvað Ef?” with tremolo-laden twang before the others join to usher the album to an aptly thoughtful and ruminative close.

May 2026