Bugge Wesseltoft has been one of the primary movers
and shakers, along with trumpeter Nils Petter Molvaer,
behind the new jazz/Nu Jazz/electro-jazz hybrids, call
them what you will, coming out of Norway in recent years.
Aside from his own musical career, he is also founder
of Jazzland, a label whose output is as interesting
as its better-publicised peer, Rune Grammofon. Although
the appearance of Norway’s extraordinarily fertile
music scene in the late nineties might initially have
been something of a surprise, in retrospect the groundwork
was laid by renowned predecessors such as Terje Rypdal,
Jan Garbarek and Marilyn Mazur.
Bugge’s first two albums as leader, New Conception
Of Jazz and Sharing, were patchwork quilts
of different styles which flirted with dance music,
electronics and jazz. His third album, 2001’s
Moving, successfully fused house beats, reflective
melodies and attention to ambience into a remarkably
coherent style. It continues to stand as one of the
most convincing explorations of the interface between
clubland and jazz improvisation yet developed. Its follow
up, 2003’s New Conception of Jazz Live
was a more mixed affair. With one exception most of
the tracks, all recorded in concert without overdubs,
failed to push the envelope of their predecessors. Live
At Bla, with guitarist John Scofield onboard, however,
hinted at the potential for a sprawling template not
a million miles from Miles Davis’s jazz/rock/funk
hybrids of the 1970s, although rhythmic emphasis was
substituted for explosive soloing.
Instead of further exploring these possibilities Film
Ing neatly, and perhaps just a little frustratingly,
sidesteps the issue by returning to the stylistic eclecticism
of Bugge's first two releases. In the process, Moving
appear to become something of an anomaly. Instead of
fusing a cluster of ideas into a single hybrid and exploring
the resulting potential, Film Ing presents
a collage of different styles, which initially appears
to lack a unifying concept. The album negotiates everything
from electronically treated solo piano (Piano)
to funky goodtime jazz in the vein of Maceo Parker (Oh
Ye) to eerie noir-like fugue (Indie) to
soulful worldjazz (Hope, with Dhafer Youssef
guesting on vocals). Without hearing the CD in its entirety,
this prospect might appear to veer dangerously close
to incoherence, but Film Ing is convincing
for a number of reasons. Firstly, Bugge’s subtle,
empathetic playing can be found at the core of every
piece: if not always in the foreground, then he’s
there laying the track’s melodic or rhythmic foundations
and supporting his fellow players. His enthusiasm, so
evident in a live setting, also suffuses the whole endeavour.
Secondly, the inventive fecundity of settings serves
as a common thread. Finally, there’s that mystifying
title. Here’s an uncorroborated theory: each of
the nine tracks serve as the seeds of larger dramas
which they imply without laboriously detailing. The
cicadas at the fadeout of first track Skog,
the engine roar at the beginning of Hi Is?
and so on are the hints of scenery as backdrop to the
music’s narrative action. Similarly, most of the
track titles appear to be adumbrated, a part of an undisclosed
sentence: it’s up to the listener to fill in the
blanks and create meaning by actively engaging with
the music.
In light of the above Film Ing might be viewed
as a sketchbook of ideas, however this analogy would
fail to do the album justice. Each track is fully developed
rather than a brief outline. As a result Film Ing
would be more appropriately described as a portmanteau
movie, each part of which narrates a different story
such as romance, travelogue and so on. Where Bugge will
go next remains uncertain, but he continues to be well
worth watching.
Colin Buttimer
4/5 |
