Alex Jønsson: Heathland
Alex Jønsson

For his fourth trio release Heathland, Danish guitarist Alex Jønsson had to look no farther than his own backyard for inspiration. Going back generations, his family has lived on the ridge of Jutland with nature as a backdrop, and it's possible to detect the influence of the natural terrain and its wide open spaces in the album's thirty-eight minutes. Jønsson's music exudes a raw, unspoiled purity that feels light years removed from the data overload of the urban world, and there are moments on this release where Heathland suggests connections to landscapes that have gone untouched for decades, perhaps even centuries.

Jønsson's no upstart, by the way. Born in 1985, the Copenhagen-based guitarist's been nominated for a Danish Music Award nine times since 2012 and obtained the Nordic Master of Jazz (NOMAZZ) from the Royal Academy of Music, Aarhus in 2013. In addition to performing with his trio, he plays in Jakob Sørensen's Bagland (a review of the band's stellar Cirkel release appeared at textura last year) and has accompanied the Norwegian singer Live Foyn Friis and the Finnish singer-songwriter Mirja Klippel.

The settings on Heathland (available in CD, vinyl, and digital formats) are largely atmospheric, lyrical, spacious, and explorative. Performed by the leader with bassist Jens Mikkel Madsen and drummer Andreas Skamby, nuance and touch are paramount, with grandstanding, flamboyancy, and self-indulgence notably absent. Compositional structures are in place, but the pieces less register as songs than texturally rich tapestries, honest music of genuine, authentic character. Adding to the listening interest, a given piece often undergoes changes in dynamics during its run.

The trio often favours a relaxed rubato approach that facilitates empathetic interaction. During the opening title track, for instance, each player figures prominently, the guitarist laying down a resonant foundation with tremolo shadings and the bassist and drummer responding attentively with authoritative solo expressions. Jønsson's is clearly the lead voice, but the others assert themselves strongly, too (hear, for instance, the elaborate percussive flourishes by the drummer in “Emu”).

Reveries such as “Icicles” and “The Sun is Slowly Rising” flatter Jønsson in showcasing the artfulness of his playing and the range of colour he weaves into a performance. Similar to Bill Frisell, Jønsson less voices single lines than coaxes from his guitar textures and shadings, and also like his American counterpart plays with both restraint and aggressiveness. Exempifying the latter is “...and Darkness Crept In,” which the trio executes at a deathly crawl and maximum intensity, distortion creeping into the guitarist's tone as he unleashes a torrent of blues-soaked wail.

Appearing in the penultimate slot, “Re: Herr Sehr Schwer” shifts the album tone with a chiming piece that's bright, buoyant, and melodic, the change startling for appearing amidst so many textural explorations. In swinging so joyously, the piece suggests Jønsson might have been wise to include a few more of its kind to present a better balance between meditative and uptempo settings. That's hardly a damning flaw, however, as the album's certainly deserving of recommendation for the quality of its performances and the high level of musicianship.

February 2020