»Is he going to play three pianos?« a boy asks. »Maybe he’s learned to play with his feet?« says an adult man. The audience on their way into the DR Concert Hall’s main auditorium comment on the setup for August Rosenbaum’s piano concert. Three Steinway grand pianos lined up is truly peculiar – actually comical.

When the concert began, I imagined I could hear differences between the instruments, though I would probably fail a blind test. Apart from a bit of playing with staccato on one piano and pedal on another, the setup was, frankly, underused. The piano playing was lacking, dominated by a single approach: pedal pressed all the way down, an active right hand primarily in the middle register, a left hand with a muted accompaniment, and a great deal of repetitive technique.

It felt like a gravity Rosenbaum could not escape. No idea or direction could break free; one always returned to the same place.

When there are two grand pianos for a concert, one of them is usually prepared. Rosenbaum had three (!) without using a single screw, coin, or ping-pong ball. Shouldn’t that be a criminal offense? Nor were any extended techniques employed, such as clusters or playing with the back of the hand.

The light show was charming, at times impressive. Still, it takes more goodwill than I possess to call the evening an audiovisual concert, as the program text told me it was. On the way out, I heard another man say, »It was actually quite exciting to hear him play.« I didn’t think so.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

Smag På Dig is pretty punk. True, the instruments most commonly associated with the genre have been replaced by saxophones, and yes, the music sounds markedly different from what one would normally link with punk. Nevertheless, with their debut release SPDS, tenor saxophonist Oliver Lauridsen, baritone and bass saxophonist Thorbjørn Øllgaard, and drummer Albert Holberg have created a bona fide, high-energy punk album – packed with fun, mischief, seriousness, and anger.

The style is established from the very first track. The trio plays catchy, often pop-inflected melodies built on Øllgaard’s thunderously deep saxophones, Holberg’s tight drumming, and Lauridsen’s high-energy, lyrical tenor sax. Particularly effective is »Middelklassen avler kun skeletter«, which has a comparatively darker tone, a bass sax buzzing like a fat, murderous bumblebee, and a stronger focus on atmosphere than many of the other tracks – without sacrificing melody.

At the other end of the spectrum are tracks like »PGO HOT 50«, with its stomping tempo, cowbells, and an epic sax guyfrom hell, and »Negirî«, which, with Luna Ersahin on vocals and saz in the eleventh hour, lets the horns step into the background – not to mention Thorbjørn’s angry poems, addressing everything from globalization, climate change, and war to the art academy and one’s own worth as a human being. Impressively, it all hangs together; everything works in its diversity. And it convincingly illustrates the age-old punk dictum that you can be angry and still have fun at the same time.

From the very first downbeat, I sense a special energy – saxophonist and composer Amalie Dahl, in interplay with vibraphonist Viktoria Søndergaard, guitarist Viktor Bomstad, and drummer Tore Ljøkelsøy, unfolds a unique balance between calm and restrained wildness. Take, for instance, the album’s second track, which opens at a lingering tempo with a duet between Søndergaard’s vibraphone and Dahl’s saxophone. At times their playing merges into harmonic dialogue; at others, the interaction is disrupted by contrasting movements. Like a conversation, the instruments alternate between gentle suggestions and lively outbursts. It is a joy to listen to music that flows so effortlessly. Halfway through, Bomstad suddenly kicks the door open with his guitar, hurling himself into the conversation with explosive force. Where moments earlier I was savouring the finely tuned interplay between Søndergaard and Dahl, I am now overwhelmed by the flaming, noise-rock chaos Bomstad ignites – and I love every second of it.

All three tracks on the album are thus imbued with sheer joy of playing, confident compositions, and impressively free excursions. The listener is kept on the edge of their seat, knowing that at any moment the four musicians can cause an otherwise cosy passage to detonate. With Breaking/Building Habits, Dahl and her collaborators exemplify the unique vitality of partially composed, partially improvised jazz. They build up and burn down, again and again – and as a listener, there is nothing to do but surrender to their compelling show of force.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek