Nils Petter Molvær: Khmer Live in Bergen
Edition Records
Twenty-seven years after its original release, Norwegian trumpeter Nils Petter Molvær revisited Khmer at Nattjazz, Bergen on May 25, 2024, and thankfully the tapes were rolling to capture the moment. Helping him reimagine the 1997 album's fusion of Nordic jazz, electronics, and trip-hop was a crack team of collaborators: guitarist Eivind Aarset, bassist Audun Erlien, drummer Per Lindvall, percussionist Rune Arnesen (drums too), and sound designers Jan Bang (live sampling) and Pål «Strangefruit» Nyhus (DJ, MPC programming). On this live document, Molvær's septet effectively recreates the original whilst also electrifying it with vital new energy; better yet, the musicians are as adept at generating a muscular groove as they are a plaintive expression, the result a recording of satisfying emotional and stylistic breadth. As there should be in a concert set of this kind, there's rawness but lyricism too.
While nine tracks are indexed, Khmer Live in Bergen plays like a suite when each part takes its thoughtfully considered place within the whole. Moods change as the performance segues from one piece to the next, with transitions eased by the textures created by Aarset, Bang, and Nyhus and a comfortable ebb and flow the result. Admittedly, a ‘90s vibe is evoked by the trip-hop dimension, but the effect is more affectionate era-recalling than wince-inducing.
“Song of Sand” opens the set with a bass-thudding downtempo pulse the leader emotes over with trademark poise. With the tune's sultry theme drawing one into its vortex and the groove thickening, Molvær solos with authority before handing off to Aarset for his own scalding turn. The guitarist's blistering contributions give the music a harder edge and inspire the leader to attack with a similar degree of aggressiveness. After Lindvall and Erlien power “Platonic Years” with a lithe funk drive to which Molvær responds with a probing solo, “Kakonita” provides an interlude of introspective calm, the mood forlorn and the leader's statement aching. “Ligotage” reinstates the lumbering heaviness of the opener, with this time the treatments applied to the horn lending it an almost Jon Hassell-like quality and Aarset at his most scorching. While the combination of funk bass and wah-wah guitar gives “Solid Ether” an enticing swagger, the album's quieter moments prove as memorable. The heartfelt expressions with which the trumpeter and guitarist elevate the lament “On Stream,” for example, make it one of the set's most special moments.
Live recordings typically feature ample stretching out, and this one's no exception. It's especially satisfying to hear Molvær freed from any studio-imposed constraints and allowed to blow. An inner sleeve photo shows the illuminated leader confidently positioned with the others in a half-circle around him—a veritable centre of the storm—and the image accurately reflects the character of the music. His bandmates certainly impose themselves when opportunity strikes (see the various spotlights granted on the twelve-minute workout “Tløn”), but Molvær's forceful presence leaves little doubt as to who's in charge.September 2025