Alejandro Falcón: Falcón In Blue
A large ensemble isn’t always a good thing. Yet pianist Alejandro Falcón keeps his team in line on Falcón In Blue. Taking his Cuban musical heritage, Falcón modernises the traditional forms of playing. His ability to reimagine dances such as the rumba or cha-cha gives life to the old ways, making new music that looks forwards and back.
As one would probably expect from a release with Cuban flavours, there is a lot of energy here. Of course, not everything makes you want to get up and dance. The first track, El Rey David, is a lively tune, but it is followed by a less animated piece. Yet even Una Tarde En Puerto Padre has a fluttering flute section which sounds like a chattering bird in the midst of a mating ritual. It even has a group of chanting backup singers, solidifying a clear sense of authenticity if you hadn’t already realised the musical heritage from the first beats.
Rhythm seems quite central to the music of Hispaniola. And Falcón’s team doesn’t disappoint. Percussion can sometimes act more like a simple tempo indicator than a heartbeat. Here, the players are the backbone supporting the fleshy sections made up of guitars, brass, piano, etc. They don’t even need to be front and centre to be noticed.
Though Falcón tries to make the Havana sound contemporary, there is still a lot of Havana still there. One’s foot gets tired after having to tap dance through a few tunes. Bolero Para Brenda does take a step back, but the pace starts to increase again. The issue, perhaps, is the percussion (however well played) which always seems to be present, beating out its familiar tones. If you don’t mind going to Cuba for almost an hour, the project has much to offer. For those wanting only a taste, a few choice songs, like Olinda, might be enough.
Discography
El Rey David; Una Tarde En Puerto Padre; Tambores En Colores; Falcon’s Blues; Bolero Para Brenda; Ted In Havana; Olinda; Yuca Con Mojo; Un Son Para La Quena (52.00)
Falcón (p); Arnulfo Guerras (b); Ruy López Nussa (d); José Julián Morejón (bgo, pc); Orlando Valle (maraca, f), Ted Nash, Emir Santa Cruz (ts); Rachel Terrien, Mayquel González (t); Roni Ben-Hur (g); Janio Abreu (ss, ts); Pedro Pablo Gutiérrez (b); Carlitos dBega Studios, Havana, Cuba, 14-15 November 2025.
Dot Time Records DT9189
Zak Scerri: In Case I Don’t See You
London-based Australian guitarist Zak Scerri teams up with Ross Anderson on double bass and drummer Billy Pod on In Case I Don’t See You. These eight originals pieces are influenced by Scerri’s personal experience, such as moving to a new country, as well as other events. Though they do not try to be overly illustrative or representational, one can feel the emotions rippling through the notes and layers.
Scerri doesn’t quite have his own style yet – compared to the very particular playing of John Scofield, for example. Regardless, he moves through the swinging modern bebop melodic lines swiftly. Tracks like Supreme use subtle reverb and repetition in the musical phrasing to create a more meditative atmosphere. It works quite well to draw the listener in while not becoming monotonous. Almost Home may seem nostalgic, but it’s more reflective than overtly melancholic. Scerri doesn’t drown in a depressed mood, even if the tunes can seem more downbeat than party dance numbers.
Tracks such as M.M. wander a bit. They don’t lose the tune exactly, but they aren’t as grounded in a solid theme as, say, The Last Train Home by Pat Metheny or Jean De Fleur by Grant Green. It might simply be that Scerri is still finding his personal path, his chosen sound. Rather than being a negative it signals that, like many younger musicians, he is still cutting his teeth. The album offers some meticulously mellow as well as exciting moments. Not quite a home-run but Scerri’s sophomore release is worth a listen for more groovy tracks such as Another Door.
Discography
The Push Back; Supreme; Almost Home; M.M.; Coming Down; Another Door; In Case I Don’t See You; Roach (54.00)
Scerri (g); Ross Anderson (b); Billy Pod (d). Probably UK, c. 2026.
Independent
Markos Chaidemenos: Light Beam
Pianist and composer Markos Chaidemenos dives into the jazz-chamber scene for his fifth release, Light Beam. The Greek musician has a quick technique. His playing is light when it needs to glitter in the background, and it dances forth when it needs to enter the spotlight. Though a shorter project, there is still energy and excellent pacing. The team Chaidemenos has assembled also works in tandem easily; no awkward tensions arise as the tracks glide by.
One of the main features on Light Beam is certainly singer Irini Arabatzi. And she would do well on a Chick Corea and Return to Forever album; there’s a rawness to her vocals which nicely supports a slightly hectic sound. She does not have the pretty voice of Stacey Kent or the soulful voice of Catherine Russell. However, these tracks feel much fuller because of Arabatzi’s presence.
Yet there are other tracks, like 11 Stars, that feature superb playing by the instrumentalists. Chaidemenos, notably, ends the piece; his playing commands attention, yet it isn’t loud and bombastic like that of some less mature artists. The string section, too, shines on songs like Pisa. A romantic atmosphere emerges through their musical phrases. Unlike albums such as Melody Gardot’s Sunset In The Blue (Decca, 2020) which lean heavily on the strings to fill the sonic layers, the chamber textures for Chaidemenos’s piece feel subtle and balanced. The pianist has hit on an interesting style, and one waits to see how he will explore this sound in his future projects.
Discography
Si-iS; Light Beam; Ego; 11 Stars; Pisa; 33; Aai (32.00)
Chaidemenos (p); Irini Arabatzi (v); Babis Karazavvidis, Kalliopi Mitropoulou (vn); Stelios Papanastasis (vla); Giorgos Tamiolakis (clo); Yiannis Vagianos (b); Panagiotis Kostopoulous (d). Noisy King Studios, Athens, Greece, 27-28 November 2025.
Independent
