Alawari: Alawari

For signs of the vibrancy and creativity of jazz coming out of Denmark, look no further than Alawari, a group whose self-titled debut forges a compelling synthesis of jazz, classical and folk idioms. Often sounding like a much larger ensemble than its septet format would suggest, Alawari takes some chances too, especially with its use of sampling and live processing, and the results are consistently intriguing, even at times quite affecting.

The group is a true collective, with no individual compositional credits given, and few conventional solo opportunities provided. There is a heavy emphasis on form and structure; a number of the album's eleven pieces appear to be through-composed, with just a modicum of freedom provided at the margins for the musicians to extrapolate their ideas, embellishing the sound incrementally. Since the melodic motifs are so strong, this formula works quite well, as these are immersive pieces, well-designed and stimulating throughout.

Some of the tracks possess an ephemeral fragility, as on "Flimmer," in which trumpeter Carlo Janusz Becker Lauritsen carries the lovely melody over saxophonists Frederik Engell's and Asger Uttrup Nissen's gossamer trills and pianist Sune Sunesen Rendtorff's dynamic tremolos. The two-part "Sorg" is built around simple folk-like melodies, with Lauritsen conveying the tune in part one alongside a gradual crescendo from the rest of the group, and the saxophonists doing the melodic honors for part two.

Moments of serene beauty aside, there are more assertive and surprising moments as well. Some of these are courtesy of Eigil Pock Steen, whose electronics and sampling on several of the tracks add an unsettling undercurrent to the music. This can be relatively inconspicuous, as on "Koral," where subtle effects add texture to the piece's otherwise stately tranquility. But at times Steen is a much more forceful presence; on "Misundelse" he is essentially the lead instrument, overlaying snippets from, of all things, a 1980s documentary on pinball machine sound effects (!) atop the ensemble, which seems to take inspiration from his madness as the piece goes farther and farther out, verging onto a barely-contained cacophony.

The album concludes with "Revolution," a hint that the group has a bigger agenda than simply making emotionally resonant music. At over eight minutes, the track is also one of the album's strongest, with an urgency reminiscent of Charles Mingus' mid-sized bands; rich harmonies combine with rhythmic intensity, the piece surging irrevocably toward its bracing finish, with the group singing the potent refrain in a spirit of defiance and resilience. A fitting end to a riveting album of music.