The Scornful Four: Hopeful Music for Hopeless People

This is an exciting and important album, though some of the language surrounding its release obscures more than it reveals. The term "scornful," for instance, hardly captures the evident musical concord here. What we hear instead is a group in genuine sympathy: cooperative, attentive, and fully committed to the shared purpose of the music.

The publicity aligns the quartet with the Gerry Mulligan—Chet Baker pianoless group of the early 1950s, as well as the Sonny Rollins's trio with Ray Brown and Shelly Manne. While such comparisons are understandable—saxophone, trumpet, bass and drums inevitably invite historical framing—they are not especially apt. This ensemble asserts a distinct identity, marked by openness, melodic richness, and a refreshing lack of affectation.

There is a lyrical strength throughout the album that is difficult to parallel. The music is notably free of guile and competitive display; instead, it unfolds with a sense of shared purpose. The melodies carry a quiet humanity, shaped by consistency, balance and an appealing openness of form.

The album notes state that 'Hopeful Music for Hopeless People' is a two-sided reference: providing hope to those who feel like they are living in a hopeless world, but also as an antidote to the hopeless (read: useless) leaders that the world seems to be blighted by currently. The songs find beauty in the universality of the human experience."

"Sun Drenched Son" is built on a persuasive and beguiling melody, carried with poise by alto and trumpet. Once again, the promotional framing proves misleading: this is not a "fiery" group. Andrew Garton's alto playing is far closer to Benny Carter than to Charlie Parker—measured, warm, and eloquent. Sharon Elaine, similarly, aligns more with Art Farmer than Chet Baker, producing a polished, centered tone of considerable intensity. Her lyrical approach maintains a clear, affirmative line. When she joins Garton in stating the theme, the emphasis is squarely on its melodic beauty.

The rhythmic underpinning is expertly handled by Helen Russell, whose bass assumes a central structural role in the absence of a chordal instrument. Her lines function as a harmonic guide for the horns, combining depth, clarity, and melodic imagination. Rather than merely marking time, she engages dynamically with the front line, implying harmonic movement through subtle and intelligent note choices.

"One Day You Will Know," thematically rooted in parental reflection, carries a distinct solemnity. Aaron Jansz's drumming becomes more assertive here, with a judicious use of cymbals that occasionally recalls Baby Dodds. Yet Jansz avoids density; instead, he demonstrates a refined sense of space and texture, treating the kit as a palette of color. His shifting dynamics and syncopated accents gently shape the ensemble's momentum. Garton responds with a solo of lyrical intensity, while Elaine's contribution is notable for its cool lucidity.

"Like An Angel" evokes, in its melodic character, the atmosphere of a small Cuban street band. Its gentle swing and subtly shifting rhythms suggest a music designed to move a crowd with understated charm.

The mournful core of "Birthday Goodbyes," reportedly reflecting on the death of loved ones, is expressed with restraint. Russell's bass takes an eloquent solo before the horns return to restate the theme with quiet dignity.

"For Tea" offers a lighter, almost domestic meditation—a hymn to the quiet comfort of a warm ritual. Here, Elaine's more assertive trumpet lines provide a counterbalance to the alto's rhythmic phrasing.

In "Hymn to the Light," Elaine's trumpet takes on an almost anthemic role. Her tone—clouded yet luminous—retains a strong lyrical core, allowing the theme to emerge with both weight and clarity.

Part of the album's character derives from its recording method. Captured in a single three-hour session using just four condenser microphones—one per musician—the result is an unvarnished sound in which each voice is fully exposed. This approach underscores the quartet's empathetic interplay and the precision of their collective listening.

This is music that is not vociferously demanding attention but is all the more effective because of the restraint.