Henry Lowther and the London Jazz Orchestra: Primetime
It seems remarkable that Henry Lowther has made so few albums under his own name since Child Song (1970) and so many with other people. His contributions have always been full and noticeable. Since his early days with John Mayall, Keef Hartley (including Woodstock), Manfred Mann, Mike Westbrook and John Dankworth, he’s been ever-present, going into all areas of music.
For the last 30 years he’s been a member of the London Jazz Orchestra, so it’s appropriate that he should make an orchestral album, especially given his association with the big bands of Westbrook, Gil Evans, George Russell, Stan Tracey, Barry Guy and the London Jazz Composers Orchestra and others. He even deputised at an early age, and at very short notice, for Jimmy Deuchar in the Tubby Hayes Big Band.
The title track of this double album reflects his interest in numerology and has all the hallmarks of big-band style, from the introductory drum lead of Paul Clarvis. Lowther’s strategy appears to be one of constructing a rich backcloth of sound, but using it economically as each soloist is featured. None of the solos are overdone, as they match the quiet authority of composition and arrangement.
Thanks to the space for solos and the positioning of the attendant orchestration and tempo changes this music reminds me of Oliver Nelson at times, in its sense of evocative atmosphere and drama (listen to Jadran). Also it often culminates in a full-blown assault, as towards the end of Emona, which takes advantage of Miguel Gorodi’s clear-toned trumpet.
Lights – originally more prosaically entitled Lights Of The North Circular – typifies Lowther’s approach in its contrasting textures and a gentle thoughtfulness which is put into context with demonstrative, occasionally brash and climactic, horns. It’s a lonely walk through night-time streets with glimpses of city life, Alcyona Mick’s piano and Lowther’s trumpet lyrical and pensive, each one the observer of the streetlife, which at the end threatens to take over their attention.
The pianist has played with Lowther for a number of years now and is the perfect balance in her inventiveness and musical elegance. She effectively leads the rhythm section into providing the current for the aptly named Frothing River, into which the baritone of Mick Foster and the alto of Martin Hathaway flow.
A contemplative feeling occurs regularly on the album, not least on the beautiful Golovec, Lowther’s contribution matched by Tori Freestone’s tenor, and on Shropshire Glad, featuring reflective solos from guitarist Nick Costley-White and the soprano sax of Martin Speake.
A fine vinyl release – melodic, cohesive and warmly engaging.
Discography
Can’t Believe, Won’t Believe; Primetime; Golovec (22.57) – Emona; Jadran (18.52) – Carbuncle Passage; Frothing River (20.12) – Lights; Shropshire Glad (20.22)
Lowther, Noel Langley, John Barclay, Miguel Gorodi, Tom Gardner (t, flh); Martin Speake (as, ss); Martin Hathaway (as, cl); Pete Hurt, Adam Bishop, Tori Freestone (ts, f); Mick Foster (bar, bcl); Martin Gladdish, Tom Dunnet, Oli Rath (tb); Richard Henry (btb); Alcyona Mick (p); Nick Costley-White (g); Alec Dankworth (b); Paul Clarvis (d); Scott Stroman (dir.) London, July 2022.
Analogue/October Records
Mathias Heise & Pelle von Bülow: Repertoire
The immediate impression when listening to this album is the rapport between harmonica player Mathias Heise and guitarist Pelle von Bülow. They take turns in soloing and providing support to one another, as well as interacting as they ease through a collection of material from various sources, showing they’re not afraid to take from other areas of music or look to the work of established figures.
Although the press releases describe them as representative of a new generation of Danish musicians, they have been playing widely for a number of years and are well known on the Danish jazz scene. Heise has won a number of awards over the years, using a chromatic harmonica which widens his range and gives greater control. This is noticeable in his technique and the speed and fluency of his delivery.
Von Bülow is from a family of musicians – his grandfather also a guitarist, his mother a saxophonist who has worked with Lee Konitz and Horace Parlan – and he moves freely between styles with poise and composure.
Of the material, there are more familiar tracks, such as Stevie Wonder’s Overjoyed and Joe Sample’s One Day I’ll Fly Away, on which the guitar leads in with a suitably wistful introduction. The Latin Besame Mucho is interestingly more blues-orientated than a bolero/rumba, and there’s Keith Jarrett’s So Tender from his Standards album. Another lesser-known composition is Sam Rivers’ Beatrice, from the saxophonist’s Fuchsia Swing Song.
The two run through Pat Metheny’s Always & Forever from his 1992 Secret Story album, which included harmonicist Toots Thielemans. It’s not the widely recorded song written by Rod Temperton, who is represented by Rock With You, a hit for Michael Jackson. The version here is far more expansive, less formulaic than Jackson’s.
Appropriately perhaps, the final track is Thieleman’s famous Bluesette, the yardstick for any jazz harmonica player, and exemplifies what is a satisfying and well-delivered album.
Discography
Overjoyed; Angel Zoo; Beatrice; Velas; One Day I’ll Fly Away; So Tender; Besame Mucho; Rock With You; Always And Forever; Bluesette (45.50)
Heise (harm); von Bülow (p). Copenhagen, December 2025.
Storyville Records 1014372
Alex Roitman Tango Ensemble: La Cocina De Tango
Although some might baulk at including tango amongst the reviews here, there are clear links between the music, especially in Argentine tango (as opposed to the regular ballroom form), with its improvisational lines, sudden changes in dynamics and mood shifts. These are all integral parts in interpretation whilst performing the actual dance itself.
In Alex Roitman’s Ensemble we have an imaginative and compellingly spirited approach in the nuevo tango style. Roitman contributes his own compositions and includes newly arranged traditional works, throwing in those of the masters, including Astor Piazzolla (Chau, Paris and Marrón Y Azul) and the De Caro family of the 1920s and 30s (Anibal Troilo and Gigoló). Julio De Caro famously used the Stroh violin, possibly recommended by Paul Whiteman for radio recordings, which had a cornet horn fitted to enhance its sound and give equal prominence not least in terms of volume.
Violinist Nayiri Piloyan maintains this position with impressive pizzicato and bowed support on Chau, Paris, and regularly enters proceedings by waiting for just the right moment to gain the greatest impact, as on Gigoló, embellishing with exquisitely flowing lines.
Of course, Roitman’s bandoneon is to the fore, as it should be in the tango, emphasising the bold statements and changes, as on the multi-faceted Lágrimas De Arrabal, led by Mayu Funaba’s jaunty piano. The pianist features strongly elsewhere and with bassist Carlos Cisneros forms an integral support in the key constituents of tempo change and emotional variation.
As may be apparent, I enjoyed this album a great deal, with its implicit elements of romance, melancholia, passion and sheer exuberance. Time to brush off those dancing shoes, polish the parquet floor and get the neighbours talking.
Discography
Anibal Troilo; Chau, Paris; Lágrimas De Arrabal; El Último Encuentro; Ruta Montañosa; Marrón Y Azul; Panadera; La Cocina De Tango; Gigoló; Leyenda (32.41)
Alex Roitman (bandoneon); Nayiri Piloyan (vn); Mayu Funaba (p); Carlos Maldonado Cisneros (b). Vermont, August 2025.
ARTE-FL Records AFR-001
